We're leaving. We're leaving Italy.
:(
We're really leaving.
I woke up this morning pretty sad, but at the same time, kinda happy to be getting back to my own bed and not living out of a suitcase. And I was pretty excited about getting back to real toilets with real seats, easily accessible flushes and being able to use a public restroom without promising my first-born son.
And no more bizarre bidets.
But still, I was leaving Italy, and wasn't really ready to go back to the real world. That means work and bills and stress. Blech. We quietly ate our last carb-loaded breakfast, each pondering the trip home and cursing the inevitable jet lag. After a quick check-out, we headed to the vaporetto to take us to the bus station (a real bus, not a floating bus). The concierge hadn't been exceptionally helpful in figuring out what time we needed to leave to make it to the airport on time, so we were pretty damn early. We had hoped to take a look at the fish market this morning, but we didn't want to risk missing our flight. As much as we wanted to stay in Italy, I don't think any of us wanted to have to buy another ticket!
While on the vaporetto up the Grand Canal from Rialto to the real bus station, we met an American couple traveling to Italy for the first time to visit their son. They had started in Venice, so we tried to warn them of the difference in pace for Florence and Rome. It's going to be a bit of shock for them to see all the traffic!
Not a happy girl. ;-)
Sad to be leaving. Check out those impressive frowns.
But happy, because we had a fabulous trip!
I took the opportunity to take some photos along the canal since it was dark the last time we came down it.
Rialto.
What the "bus stop" looked like.
Fish Market.
A UPS boat!!
A bit froggy out.
Be careful if you're a sleepwalker that you don't walk out your front door in the middle of the night!!
It took us a few minutes to find the bus that would take us to the airport, but we navigated it pretty well. Damn, I'm already tired and ready for a nap. This is going to be a LONG day. For obvious reasons, the airport for Venice isn't on the island itself, so the bus needed to take us back to the mainland over the bridge that connects the two. It was about a half hour bus ride, mainly because we had to pick up regular passengers along the way. It wasn't just an airport shuttle, it was also a general transportation vehicle.
Very smiley. You should have seen us all 15 hours later!
Going home!
So, our plan of getting to the airport early worked to a tee. Except that we were THREE EFFING HOURS EARLY. So early in fact, that they hadn't scheduled a gate for our flight yet. And with no gate, we couldn't check our baggage. And if we couldn't check our baggage, we couldn't go through security. And if we couldn't go through security, we couldn't eat or sit down. And if we couldn't eat or sit down...well, you get the idea. It was probably close to an hour before we were able to do much of anything except stand in the entrance and stare up at the gate board, not-so-patiently waiting for a gate number. Brenda asked at one point, but they still couldn't guarantee the gate, so still we waited. Good times.
Waiting for our gate #.
I was a little concerned about the weight limit in my suitcase, but I really didn't think I had added a whole 12 pounds worth of stuff to it. Most of my souvenirs were small, and the only thing really worth any weight was the olive oil. And it was fairly small, so it didn't weigh too much. Nikki and Brenda went first to check theirs, and they were under the 24kg mark. Whew! Nikki had a couple bottles of wine in her suitcase, so I assumed I'd be a-ok. I threw mine on the belt and it said 38kg. That's almost 84 pounds, people. There is NO WAY I added 40 pounds to my suitcase. That can't be right! I had a mini panic attack since I thought she would ask for money, but she added the tag to it and sent it on its merry way. Whew. I must be safe!
Until Brenda commented that she better not get a charge on her credit card for it. Dammit. I hope to hell I don't have to pay for that. There's no way that was right though. (For the record, it's been two weeks and nothing has shown up on her card - she paid for our tickets - so I should be safe!)
Venice's security line was fabulous. It took us no time to get through. Again, I wish St. Louis's airport would learn a thing or two about moving people through quickly. It was nearing lunch time, and since we had a few hours to kill before our flight left, we grabbed a quick bite. This being Italy and all, they had a pasta station where they cooked up your pasta while you waited. Sort of. They just reheated the meat/sauce after the noodles were reheated in some boiling water. It was still pretty good though!
We also found a gelateria, so I figured we better get a gelato before we head out too. I love Italian airports! I was brave and tried the arancia again (orange), and it was WAY better than the crap I had by the Ponte Vecchio. It was a brighter color and actually tasted like oranges, not perfume. Hooray!
Some more shopping before we headed to our gate. We couldn't figure out how the airports sold wine (since it obviously goes over the 3oz limit) for flights where people have to make a transfer. Obviously if you have a direct flight, you're fine, but we were curious. Come to find out, all you need is the wine packaged in a special sealed bag, and you're good to go. Brenda decided she had never bought the wine she wanted, so she popped into a duty-free shop and picked a few bottles up. They sealed them up, and she figured she was good to go. Or so we thought.
But, more on that later.
Our flight to London was quick and easy, and only slightly marred by the chatty Italians sitting around us that wouldn't shut up. But, I hadn't figured I'd sleep on this flight, so it wasn't a big deal. I did miss the TV screens in the back of the seats though. Bummer. Guess I'll have to do more crossword puzzles.
We arrived back at Heathrow with not a lot of time to get to our next flight, but we figured we would be okay. A few nice American Airlines ladies checked us off the list as we exited and directed us toward the bus for our terminal connection. That was sweet of them. I guess that's to make sure that the new flight crew knows that the travelers are on their way to the connection. I assume that's why, anyways. Or it could be for security reasons.
We had to ride the stupid bus again, which would have been much more enjoyable if we weren't surrounded by obnoxious teenagers. Man, I hate teenagers. I can't explain why, but I wanted to punch a few of them in the throat. Maybe because they were rude and started line jumping. Maybe because they wouldn't shut the hell up. Maybe because I was already tired and cranky and not looking forward to an 8 hour flight. Plus, I was afraid they would be on our flight.
Twelve excruciating minutes later, we arrived at our terminal to hustle to the gate. We were again greeted by another lady who told us our gate was #40. She looked at her watch, and not-so-convincingly said that we had time, but we really needed to hustle. She gave us a bright orange piece of paper with "Express Priority" on it to help speed up our process. This kinda freaked us out a little. I know I haven't really seen London, but I'd prefer not to be stuck here indefinitely due to a missed flight!
We had to go through security again, since we had switched terminals, but fortunately it wasn't a long line. I was a bit impatient, and at a Freakout Level of 2. Some nice people in front of us weren't really in a hurry, so they offered to let us in front of them. It was only 2 or 3 people, but it couldn't hurt, right? So, we all passed through the metal detectors, and Nikki and I went to grab our bags, etc. Then, we noticed that Brenda's wine had been pulled aside, as well as her backpack. Hmm, that's strange.
A few minutes passed, while the agents looked at the xrays and spoke in hushed tones. Then, another girl came over to take a look, and we all got really worried. Freakout Level 3.5 now. Brenda ended up having to take every single thing out of her backpack for the agent to go through. In doing so, they found the bottle of balsamic vinegar that she had packed in there and forgotten about (it wasn't caught in Venice). Plus, the stupid clerk at the Venice airport forgot to put her receipt INSIDE the sealed bag for the wine. Since we paid cash for most stuff in Italy, we didn't keep any of the receipts. Brenda spent a frantic 5 minutes trying to find the receipt and couldn't find it to save her life. Freakout Level 4.
She also had to prove she had been in Italy, so she showed the few receipts she did have, along with the guide books she had brought along. More hushed tones with the agent, and conversing with other agents, and they eventually decided that the balsamic vinegar couldn't go through at all. (Good thing it wasn't the expensive one from the Wine Nazi's winery!) It was over the minimum liquid requirement. But, she was going to talk to a superior about the wine. So, more time ticked away. Freakout Level 4.5.
We started to worry a bit, because our flight was leaving in under an hour, and we still had to get all the way across the terminal to the damn gate. The agent finally returned and said there was nothing they could really do in the time we had. They'd have to confiscate the vinegar and the wine, all because their "duty-free" regulations were different than Italy's. I felt so bad for Brenda. We all thought she was in the clear, since the Venetian clerk had assured her the wine would be fine to take on the plane. But, if I ever have the opportunity, I will make sure NOT to buy any liquids in airports unless it's a direct flight!
At that point though - Freakout Level 5 - we had one objective in mind, and it was to make it to our gate in time. I have only ran through an airport once in my life, and I hoped to never have to do it again.
Nope, I was totally running. And if you remember from the first blog, Heathrow's airport is about 85 miles long. The people movers were a big help (I kinda felt like I was running really really fast), but it didn't take long for me to start sweating and get a good wheeze going on. Plus, I was constantly having to dodge other people. It's not easy to run while carrying a purse and extra bag. I ended up sprinting ahead of the girls, hoping that if I made it there in time, I could explain the situation and hold the plane if necessary. (Long legs are good in this situation).
And of course, we needed gate #40....OUT OF 42! FML Miraculously, we made it to our gate and they hadn't really started boarding yet. Maybe the VIPS, but we definitely were not them. We even had time for a quick potty break and to pick up a snack at the cart.
Then, we went through the 35 check points just to be allowed into the gate. The first guy needed to see our passport and boarding pass just to get in line. Three feet from him was another guy who needed to see those things, and also asked me if I packed my bag, when I packed it, if I had any checked bags, if anyone had given me anything to put in my bag, if I had any battery-operated devices on me, how long I've owned them, and if they've always been in my possession. Good grief. Did he want my bra size and mom's maiden name too?
Then, a foot behind him was another lady who scanned my passport, and directed me to the lady two feet from her who took my passport, boarding pass and luggage receipt. She printed off a NEW boarding pass, and I was finally let into the actual gate-waiting area itself. FML I'm all for security at airports, but this was a bit ridiculous. I don't know if it was a Heathrow policy, or a US policy. I don't think it would have bothered me if my heart rate wasn't so elevated.
We were already cranky from our near-miss, so this was not helping. Fortunately, we only had about a 5-minute wait before we could get on the plane itself. But not before showing our boarding passes and passports one final time!
This plane was a bit smaller than our flight over from Chicago. There were still the two seats on each window, but only 3 in the middle aisle. Perfect for us, so we wouldn't have to share with anyone. But, this being a smaller plane, we didn't have individual TVs to watch. Dangit!! Well, hopefully, they'd play a good movie on the main screen I could watch, but I was really hoping I could just sleep.
But, Brenda's cursed travel luck reared it's ugly head yet again today. First, we had three very loud, very obnoxious women sitting right behind us. Who did not want to sleep on the flight home. So, we were privy to every single conversation they decided to have and laugh about. Plus, they couldn't lower their tray tables in a civilized manner. Nope, they had to twist the latch slightly and let the table fall with a big thud, shaking our entire seats in the process. The 3rd time they did it, I turned around and got a weak "sorry", but it didn't stop.
Plus, they constantly needed things under the seat, and they had to body check the seat just to reach what they wanted. I had my own version of turbulence going on for 8 long hours. That's okay, I'll just put some music on and sleep, and it will be fine. Then, we got the second bad news. The audio wasn't working for our part of the plane, so we couldn't listen to the movie they were playing or the radio stations in each of our seats.
Are you kidding me? I can't sleep due to the three stooges behind us, and now I can't even drown them out? I'm going to punch someone. And to top it all off, the British Twix bar I bought tasted like shit. I'm about ready to go postal. But, I kept telling myself that at least it's happening at the END of our trip, not the beginning.
An hour into the flight, they brought us lunch, so that occupied a bit of our time and cured some of the cranky pants. Chicken with vegetables and rice, a salad with dressing, crackers, butter, a roll, cheese, cookies and water. I gotta hand it to AA, they know how to satisfy their travelers. Feed their faces.
Surprisingly, quite good!
I still wasn't able to sleep though, so I did some more crosswords, and tried not to smack the lady behind me upside the head. The audio wasn't the only thing not functioning though. The air vents and overhead lights were also on lock down. So, I couldn't really do my crosswords for too long, since it was starting to get darker. We kept getting updates from the flight crew, but they weren't promising. "We're going to try resetting the system again." Great.
Eventually, over half way through the flight, we got our audio back, and I was able to listen to some music and attempt to sleep. But, of course, they decided to bring dinner at that point. This time, I was pretty disappointed. We got little mini pizzas that tasted like cardboard, grapes and a cookie. That's not really much to tide me over, people. I tried napping on and off, but I was never able to get some really good rest in. Partially because of McShaky behind me, but also because of the lesbian teenagers sitting across the aisle who were being less than discreet. Will this flight ever end?!
We finally landed, and made our way to the Customs line. We had to fill out forms on the plane listing the things we had purchased in Italy and were bringing back into the country. The line for the US citizens was outrageous. At the rate we were going, we'd still be in line tomorrow. Since the line for visitors was much shorter, they ended up splitting up the line, so we'd get through faster. We still waited for quite awhile until it was time to make our way through the customer counter. I've never done it before, so I wasn't sure what to expect, but the guy was incredibly friendly, and quickly stamped my passport to get us on our way.
We hurried to grab our luggage, which we were all fortunate enough to make it home with, gave our customs forms to the final checkpoint, and were finally free. Nikki's roommate was waiting to pick us up, and we made the trek back to her house. By the time we swapped out our luggage and said our goodbyes, it was after 9pm. I really wanted my own bed, and I think Brenda did too. I was wide awake at this point, and figured we could make the drive back to St. Louis. We should get back between 1:30 and 2:00 am, and I wouldn't have to worry about sleeping on a couch or living out of a suitcase for another day.
Big. Mistake.
We made it out of the city and onto I-55, and about an hour into our trip, we noticed the sleep bunnies trying to take us over. At first, we were just a little restless, so we cranked up the tunes, and tried to sing away the sleep deprivation.
That only worked for a short time, so we cranked up the music even louder and started our own version of Dance Party USA. I was doing some pretty sweet seat-dancin', if I do say so myself. We rolled down the windows, but that didn't help either.
Good grief, we still had 3 hours to go, and I could barely keep my eyes open. Brenda was having some difficulty, so I offered to drive, but she assured me that as soon as I got behind the wheel, she'd be asleep. There's no way I could have driven without someone to keep me awake. So, I opted to try to stimulate Brenda's brain to keep her thinking. We started a game of Would You Rather and came up with some pretty gnarly decisions to make. It actually helped for awhile, because we had to think hard about some of the grossest things ever. Like...would you rather...lick the bottom of your shoe or drink toilet water?
Tough life decisions, people.
We hit up a rest stop for a potty break and did some jumping jacks and running in place. Good thing there weren't any other people in there, or they would have thought we were nuts. Back on the road, and some additional dance dance revolution action. I kept poking Brenda too, until she got really annoyed with it. I don't think I've ever been that tired or slap happy in my life. We almost stopped at my brother's house, since he lives off the highway. But, we figured if we could make it that far, we could make the last hour and a half home.
Twenty minutes after we passed the exit to get to Jason's, Brenda started rethinking her decision. She said she just needed a 5-minute catnap, so we pulled into a gas station in Litchfield, where I took a potty break and gave her a few minutes to rest. However, I was wandering around inside the gas station to give her a few minutes, and I realized how bad it looked for me to be aimlessly walking around at 1 in the morning. Great, they're going to think I'm going to rob them. I wouldn't have gotten very far with the getaway driver sacked out in the car though!
Somehow, we made it home. That last hour actually went by better than I thought. I was able to pick up my car from Brenda's and I think I was home by 2:30 or 3 am. I don't really even remember. I at least lugged my suitcase into the house, took out my contacts and pretty much just fell into bed.
The jet lag lingered for a good week before I could really shake it, but I'll take it AFTER the trip instead of at the beginning of a trip any day.
Well, that's it. This trip was everything I hoped it would be. It was truly an amazing experience, and I will treasure it for a very long time. It's definitely lit a traveling fire though. I'm already thinking of places I want to go next. I just might have to get a second job to afford my new hobby!
Some additional thoughts/comments about the trip:
-I had a bad tendency to walk really fast and leave the girls behind, especially Brenda. Sorry guys!
-Since the hotels were small, we had to return our keys every day before we left. That was actually really nice so we wouldn't lose them. It was also nice because the keys and the keychains weighed a ton each.
-The Florence hotel keychain actually controlled the lights in our room. Very weird.
-I know they love wine over there, but that doesn't mean you can forget a basic human need. Why the eff did we have to pay for water? I understand that some people will only drink bottled water, but what about tap? The fountains are supposed to boast great drinking water, so why can't they give us a damn free glass of water?
-European keyboards are a bit tricky. The letters are in the same place, but the special characters are all jacked up. I can't tell you how long it took me to finish an e-mail!
-We decided that I should star in my own reality series on the Travel Channel, aptly named "Map Maven". Nikki will be the producer and decide where I go next, and Brenda will be the host. The theory of the show is to give me a map in a new city and tell me to get from point A to point B and witness all the shenanigans in the process. The season finale will be to navigate Antarctica. Riveting television, people.....I hope no one steals this idea! :)
-Then we went a little far and decided I needed to find "Mr. Map" in a season, and then the last reality show would be "The Maps" in which I leave things around the house and my kids have to find them with the map I've given them. Yeah, we went a little ridiculous on that one.
-I found the language pretty easy to pronounce, but I love all the romance languages. I think they're so pretty and fun to say. Brenda hated it and nearly always refused to pronounce the Italian words. She's much better at German though. Which is what I suck at. German just sounds like everyone is yelling obscenities all the time. But hey, if we go to Germany next, I'll let B do all the talking!
-At Hotel Oceania in Rome, I had difficulty getting a lotion cap open, and Stefano was a big help getting it open. When I left a message on their facebook page saying they had very strong men there, he joked back and said "and old too!" They were so sweet and fun there.
-Italians say "Prego" for damn near everything. We thought it only meant "you're welcome", but they used it all the damn time. We went into the very first restaurant and the guy ushered us in saying "prego, prego". We took full advantage of this and it was definitely our key phrase of the whole trip. We said it all the time.
-The three of us got along remarkably well considering our relatively new friendships. We were only really the crankiest when tired or hungry, which makes sense. We also all had our own "roles" to play in the group. I was the picture taker. I had to stop every fifteen seconds to take a new photo of something cool. When we went up in the domes, I would constantly stop, saying I needed more photos. Brenda kept losing things. She'd lose things in her purse. She'd lose things in her suitcase. She'd lose things in the chair cushions. One time she tore the room apart looking for her camera and I found it in the chair. Another time she spent 20 minutes discreetly looking for her lotion or something before she finally admitted she was looking for it. Nikki was the browser. I don't think she actually purchased a single thing until we went to Florence. She would always like stuff, but couldn't quite pull the trigger to buy.
-These last things won't make sense to anyone but the three of us, but I have to list them for posterity. They're way too difficult to explain, but I know that we will always laugh when we hear them.
---"Toot de la fruit!"
---"Dulce de leche or doosh de loosh!"
---"It's pretty cool!"
---"He wears t-shirts....sometimes."
---"Stitch Assist!"
---"Duty-free, duty-free....no taxes!"
---"Everyone things we're Sveeeedish"..."What are you?"...."We're DAYYY-NISH!"
---"What language do you speak in Macedonia?"...."Macedonian..."
---"I need your judgment, like I need another g-d hole in the head!"
---"Mona Brenda" and "Da Vinci Nikki"
So, that's it for now. Can't wait for my next traveling adventure!!
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