I failed to show off the Journal in a recent trip to Italy

In late May, I spent two weeks in Italy.

Magical.

Fascinating.

Belt-stretching.

The day before I left, I headed to the Brandon Valley Journal office to specifically grab a copy of the most recent issue. The “Journey with the Journal” photos that have blanketed the paper over the years have been popular. It’s cool to see the Journal at various spots all around the country, all around the globe. I thought one in front of one of Italy’s landmarks might add a little something to the paper.

So off I went, through Chicago O’Hare for 14 hours, and then to Frankfurt, Germany. Finally, after nearly a day-and-a-half of traveling, I unpacked my suitcase in Rome.

On top of everything else as I unzipped my luggage free from its 30-hour journey was my issue of the Journal, sitting nicely on top of six collared shirts and two pairs of pants, all now seriously wrinkled and showing the wear of a long trek.

I took the Journal out and placed it directly in front of my hotel door. I was headed to the famed Colosseum the next day, and a shot with the Journal in front of where the Gladiators fought 2,000 years ago would be amazing. I followed that with a trip later in the day to the ancient Forum in central Rome. A shot there with one of the ruins would be…well…monumental. I didn’t want to forget the paper.

As I climbed the same steps at the Colosseum that visitors have wrestled with for two millenia, it dawned on me that I’d stepped right over the Journal on my way out of the hotel earlier that morning.

No worries, I thought. More Italian sites were on the horizon.

When I returned from the Colosseum and Forum on my first day, I saw the Journal at my feet when I entered my hotel room, and I literally chuckled. I then took it purposely, folded it in half and stuck it in my smaller bag to be sure I’d have it with me on my next excursion.

The following day was a trip to St. Peter’s Square and the Sistine Chapel. That surely would make for a good shot with the Journal. Maybe even the Pope would swing by and give it a signature.

The Pope never showed his face, and neither did the Journal. Because it was such a long day, I decided not to bring my smaller bag with me to catch a glimpse of Francis and his robed buddies. So, the Journal sat quietly as I visited Rome’s religious sites. 

The next day, it was a trip to Mount Vesuvius and the ancient city of Pompeii. Again, probably another nice spot for a Journal photo. But also again, and this time it really started to frustrate me, I forgot the Journal in the hotel room.

Next it was the Amalfi Coast in Sorrento, followed by the Tuscany region the next day that is dotted with ancient castles and cities outside of Florence. Again, no Journal. Was it old age creeping in that made me forget each day? Maybe I was just out of my normal routine? Ugh. Didn’t matter. It was frustrating, and towards the end, a bit comical when I realized it each mid-day.

The only actual photo I got with the paper was from inside the airport in Germany on the way home. Although the Journal never made it out of a hotel room as I bounced around Rome, Sorrento, Tuscany and Florence, my thoughts of Brandon stayed with me each day.

I covered the state high school baseball tournament from a hotel lobby in Sorrento as fireworks flew over Ierano bay. I wrote the state high school softball preview story from a fancy pool cabana in Rome. I wrote the story recapping NASCAR star Kasey Kahne’s victory at Huset’s on a train from Sorrento to Florence. That was weird.

As I looked around during that train ride and saw unfamiliar faces speaking unfamiliar languages, I couldn’t help but wonder what they were up to, and where they were going. I was there to write about race cars in Brandon, South Dakota.

I saw a lot in those two weeks. But no matter if it was great works of art from Michaelangelo and Bernini in the world-famous Borghese Museum, my thoughts truly went back to a story I did years ago about a Brandon Elementary art class. My visit to the Colosseum had me thinking about what all it took for the Brandon community to come together to build First National Bank Field at Aspen Park. 

Although my Journal only got a view of the inside of a hotel room, Brandon was well represented in Italy the last two weeks in my head.

It was a fantastic trip, but it’s good to be home.

Now, where’s my paper?