November 19-20, 2011

During this past summer, I ventured onto the Fleet Foxes website, in search of an upcoming concert in close proximity that I could attend.  This band worked much as my summer anthem, providing the perfect soundtrack to a lot of my days.  I was continually disappointed as I scrolled down the webpage, as the band appeared to be traipsing around the opposite coast of the US.  Finally, for fun, I looked into the fall months, to see where it was they would be touring.  Much to my surprise, a few of Italy’s cities were posted for November, and I promised myself I wouldn’t miss it, even if I had to go and enjoy it alone.

The weekend finally came, and the three of us hopped onto the train without even so much as a full map of Bologna.  We had a vague idea of where the hostel was and an even more unclear notion of the location of the concert venue. What we did know was that we would figure all of these details out once we got there, at least we hoped.

Once stepping out of the train station we could tell right away that Bologna was different. In fact, the further out of the city center we ventured, the more the landscape resembled Central New York.  The air was brisk and fresh and plentiful, as there were less and less buildings to obstruct it’s permeation.  After politely asking for some help, we finally spotted a rickety looking sign that directed us down the final stretch of our journey to the hostel.

After realizing that none of us had brought our passports and we had reserved the room for only two, we began to get anxious.  The man behind the desk was frustrated and did not appear overly thrilled about making any kind of exceptions.  After a few pleads and promises of extra caution, we were pointed in the direction of a line of trailers. I was glad to get to experience a different type of hostel arrangement, and it definitely seemed appropriate given the barren fields that surrounded us.

We played a competitive game of fooseball over a bottle of red wine to pass the time before the show was scheduled to start.  When it was time, we headed back the route we had come, through the densest, eeriest fog I had ever seen.  The whole scenario struck us as proper material for an upcoming horror film.  We found some fellow enthusiasts once we reached a more urban road and followed them and their greatly needed Google Maps Iphone Application.  The concert was intimate and the energy was positive.  It felt so natural to be apart of the crowd, all harmoniously humming along to the same melodies that produced nostalgic comfort.

The next day, with sunlight filling the streets where the fog was once suspended, we realized that the building where the concert was held stood in the field directly adjacent to the hostel we were leaving.  The three of us, realizing that we walked useless miles and many minutes in our round about route, bursted out laughing.  We passed the time walking back to the city center by passing the blame off, even though we agreed that it all made for a good story and an even better laugh.

Lisa Frare