Saturday - The long Way Home - From Dee Plane, Dee Plane.

I'm using some of this 9 and a half hour flight (!!) from Rome to Chicago to draft today's entry, knowing that I'll not likely be in the writing mood once I get to Maplecrest.

The trip to the airport in Palermo was actually pretty easy. There was virtually no traffic on the streets at 0530 local, and we had no problems with directions getting there. I dropped 2 off at the terminal with all of our gear, and I took the car to the rental lot. There was no one manning the Hertz lot at that hour, so I dropped the keys in the night box and did the 8-minute walk back to the terminal.

The fun started then. The bike, of course. After having spent 40 minutes in a maze-line, the counter agent had me go back to a separate desk to pay for the bike. The gal at that desk took over 20 minutes trying to find the right tariff for the bike, and finally just assessed $65. By that time, we were getting close to departure and 2, who had gone back to start our place in line again, was getting nervous. Me too.

We hustled through check-in, leaving the bike to be taken through baggage by the staff. I wonder.... The plane actually departed close to on-time. And we arrived in Rome on-time. For more fun.

They had not ticketed us all the way through to Chicago at the Palermo airport. Nothing to do with the bike. It was just the way they handled the airline switch...AlItalia to American in Rome. I mentioned in a post last week that I had had a wine-moment when I bought the tickets in May and had not selected a seat for myself on any of the flights. So when we get to the gate in Rome this morning, we're informed that the flight is over-sold and I don't have a seat assignment. Suite.

But we were also told that I definitely WILL get on the plane. And I obviously did. But not without some stress. The bike? Who knows? I do have a claim check for it.

A couple of additional bumps in our road came before departure. First, the gate agents had tried to be accommodating and change some seats around so that 2 and I could sit together. That made it look like 2 would be going from an aisle seat to a middle seat. Bummer. But that move was OK because our seats were in a two-seat row on the side of the plane. Bonus. For about a minute.

One of the gate agents who had processed us after I got my ticket came to our seats and said that we had to move to two other seats in the three-seat, middle-of-the-plane row as our seats had been pre-assigned to others. Of course they were.

And our new middle-row seats were right adjacent to the young couple with the infant-in-arms. Why wouldn't they be?

I took the middle-seat of the middle-row since I was the perpetrator of the missed-selecting-the-seats oversight. My bad.

Once the plane was loaded and ready to go, the pilot came on and informed us that we (our plane!) had lost our place in line and would have to wait to get an opening for take-off. Which came about 40 minutes later.

So it's been an interesting day already.

I know that I will have air-pressure warnings on at least two tires on the Buick. I hope that that's the worst of my issues at ORD.

Some other observations...

A. While 2 and I were seated awaiting Group 4's boarding call (is anyone ever NOT in group 4?), I overheard a couple of older retirees talking near us. They were the ones who had given up their seats, since they didn't have any pressing need to get home, and the payment-voucher deal was going to give them another day in Rome as well as a fly-anywhere ticket. One of the gals said that she and her husband would do it again tomorrow if the same deal was offered. Is that a scam, or just creative? 2 commented to me that NO deal was worth keeping her on the road another day/night.

B. Italian airport security is quite a bit more relaxed than back in the US of A. Then again, they just may be openly profiling people by appearance. The guys checking passports at one stoping point just looked at 2 and I and motioned us through without even bothering to look at the passports. The TSA-like agents doing pat-downs didn't even look our way.

C. Most of these airports use the old shuttle-bus concept of moving passengers to and from the planes. This leg now is the only one on the European side of our trip where we boarded through a standard jet-way from a concourse gate. The contractors who run the buses are busy people. And the Tarmac's are busy places. I wonder how many hits, scrapes and other incidents occur each day? With all these vehicles and people going here, nether and yon, there's bound to be some problems.

D. 4 might find it amusing that I finally did run smack into one of those face-level No Parking (or similar) signs in Siracusa a few days ago. (No smacking the sign with your open hand to scare your walking companion. This one was real!) And I have a cut right between my eyes to show for it. I hit it HARD, and was lucky that I didn't fracture my Oakley's in the process. 2 showed very little sympathy.

OK. We're down to about only six hours left in the flight. This is all I have for now.

BCOT






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