Arrivaderci, Italia!

600px-Italian_traffic_signs_-_stazione.svg

I finally have free, fast internet. Yay! We had internet at the villa, but it was about as slow as dial-up, so I couldn’t upload pictures to the blog, only Facebook. On the ship they charged by the minute ($1 per!) and it was even slower.

We are camped out in the airport motel in Milan, Italy. We could take the train into the city and see the Duomo or something, our flight isn’t until tomorrow morning, but we are frazzled from the drive in and all we want to do is laze about and watch TV. Yay, TV! News! And for lunch there was a salad bar. OMG I scarfed salad like never before. Greens! Veggies! Yumyumyumyumyum!

IMG_7713

Driving on the Autostrada this morning was stressful. Driving east into the sun we missed the turn to go north toward the airport—we were passing a truck just as the exit sign went by….they don’t give you much warning—so we had to wing it by the map and without our host Tim’s personalized directions. It’s not like you can turn around, and the maze of roads on the map looked like a plate of spaghetti, plus it was morning rush hour and the names are impossible. Try saying Abbiategrasso d’Villavesco before you’ve passed it.  But eventually we found the airport and we returned the car with one minute to spare and not a scratch on it, and we are comfortably ensconced in our room near the airport with full bellies and a bottle of Tim’s homemade wine.

IMG_7651

The roads in Italy are great, and the Italians are excellent drivers and have beautiful cars. But they like to go fast and they come right up behind you so they can whip around and zoom past you at the first opportunity. You can’t tarry! It’s actually easy to make your way around in Italy, you have only to know your destination and you follow the signs toward it.

ItalyRoadSign
Picture stolen from the internet. We are farther north than this.

I don’t know how the Italians stay so thin. They are slim and sleek like a greyhound dog. They don’t walk everywhere like in some other countries, they drive (or ride those omnipresent Vespas), so it must be genes. They eat huge meals with pasta, desserts, and espresso with sugar, and wine with every meal. Maybe it’s nicotine—they smoke a ton. There are even cigarette machines on the street (next to the condom machines), and cigarette butts are everywhere.

We looked up American Airlines online because of the recent news about layoffs and canceled flights etc, and we were reading about some of the shenanigans AA has been pulling—and I am convinced our cancelled outbound flight was because of that. Doesn’t it seem strange to cancel a flight because a little red light in the back of the plane (in the galley) won’t go out? And the fact that they unceremoniously dumped us into the terminal with no apology at 4 AM. And  then they put us up in a hotel on the lower west side of Manhattan and never called with the arrangements. If you know anything about NYC and JFK, that’s about as far away as you can get. There are hundreds of hotels closer to the airport. I was going to write a scathing letter to AA when I got home…now I think that’ll be a waste of time.

So that’s it until we get home tomorrow afternoon. Wish I could click my heels together three times and be there already.

ruby-slippers-wizard-of-oz

Comments

Libby Fife said…
I think the driving would scare me witless. Glad you are coming home. How about some pasta?:)