After thinking we had lost our train tickets from Pompei back to Torino and nearly making a police report, Dustin found them in his sleeve.

We went on to spend the night on the slow train. At 4 in the morning, we were kicked out of our seats by a not-so-nice train official who informed us that we had been sitting in first class. Oops. At 8 in the morning, we got to Torino and I have never felt that dirty or disgusting in my entire life. After a nap and a shower, we spent the afternoon shopping. On our way back to Dustin's apartment, we saw a prayer vigil for the Pope, but didn't realize that he had taken a turn for the worse. The next morning, we got on an airplane and headed home, about four hours later, while we were over the ocean speeding toward Chicago, the Pope died. We got home and millions of people headed to Rome.

Ciao Italia. It was awesome.