The Terminals

Daddy, I can't get in my email. Let mommy know I am fine....

Ok, so 23 kilos is what you get to pack on the luggage for a flight.

 A quick search on googles shows that is 50.7 pounds. Whoever invented the double kilo / pound scale is a genius. Now...what to pack? Coming from Italy I took two of everything like Noah and his arc. Two forks, two spoons, two plates, two cups, two mugs, two towels. Two, two, two. One luggage had homegoods pots pans, my beloved mocha machine, kitchen towels and all my "two's" for eating. Now going back is tricky. I make a list, collect things on my bed and start to pack...

I step on the scale, haul the luggage up and wiggle around like a circus acrobat to look down at the number. Is it too high? Will I get fined? Packing one pound less makes sense because I want to avoid getting the criminal scale at the airport that will magically weigh 50.8 pounds and get slapped with a fine. I take out the boots, decide to wear those on the flight and replace them with ballerina flats that are much easier to take off on the plane but weigh less. It weighs 48.7 pounds now. Great.


The Airport is clean, smells of America in a way only American airports smell.

I got a good one!

Ducky Liberty

There is Duty Free, Hudson Bookstore, the floor sparkles and I feel like this is the perfect place to shop. Everything is clean, organized and there is still an underlying sense, wait, ambiance (hehe) of fear that they want you to feel. Fear? From what? Who knows but it drives the economy and gives the government a reason to dance on foreign soil. All I know is that abiance of fear makes going to the airport a pain. Shoes off, are you carrying anything dangerous? Toothpaste?! What?! In the garbage. That dangerous toothpaste needs to learn a lesson.

Rows of gates lie ahead. I wonder where those people waiting are going and why. They all look like they are having trouble digesting the french fries from the Burger King. Glum darn french fries. They are never satisfying. I close my eyes and dream of the real mozzerella awaiting me.

The speaker begins "All rich people and those with noisy kids are now allowed to board." My heart starts beating like Fatty when he hears the vacuum.


Luftansa flight to Munich. 9 hours.

 I am so glad the little girl sitting next to me was good and small. She was around 12, and on a school trip for sure. Thanks to her small size I could scoot around in the tiny seat. Do you know what I really like about international flights? The movie selection:

I watched Anna Karenina and he watched The Godfather

International Herald Tribune

I love the costumes and Broadway feeling of the movie Anna Karenina

I went for the romance.

"You mess with my family and I will kill your horse. Capice?"

Don't mess with the Godfather. He will find your horse!

Suspense mid flight over the Atlantic that I will blog about later. Then we landed in Munich, Germany.

Layover

Flight to Rome. My head bounces around as I try to sleep. My eyes burn like a candle. Then the plane starts to descend and I see the Roman countryside. For some strange reason I feel like crying from happiness. Maybe it is 19 hours of travel, maybe it is my dry dry eyes, lack of sleep and legs that started cramping after the first hour of flying out of Newark NJ. But I see rural Rome from the plane window and it looks so beautiful I want to cry.

Then we land. Rome, Fuimiccino. New airport, new country, new language.

Che bello. Drive home.

SUN!!! At last! And warmth! It's like 60 degrees here!

Finally here.

 I feel about as fried like a fried egg. For now dinner and sleep. My body feels like it has been on a roller coaster all day and it sways like a drunk old lady. Tomorrow another day. Then maybe I will tell the story of what happened mid-flight over the Atlantic.

A presto!