I don’t want to write this entry with the intent of complaining. I mean, come on. One does not simply travel through Southern Italy, surrounded by amazing people, other-wordly food, and incredible scenery and go, “Yeah man, that SUCKED.” Despite my scribblings the past two weeks, there are not even words to describe how amazing our trip was. That, my friends, is why I feel comfortable writing about yesterday’s going-home experience. It’s almost comical. Like, they should make a movie about it, it was that bad.
I will briefly recount the day we had yesterday, mostly courtesy of Alitalia Airlines.
The day started at 3:00 am at the Masseria San Domenico. With dreams of melanzana ripiene and spumone still in my head from the night’s dinner, we woke up and said our final goodbyes to the gorgeous resort that had housed or last Italian hurrahs. Goodbye, thalassotherapy pool! Goodbye, 200-year-old olive trees! Goodbye, out-of-place room in the hotel bar that looks like a British hunting lounge!
A car picked us up at 4:00 to head to the Bari airport. Tired as we were, and as Mercedez-Benzy as the “taxi” was, sleep didn’t happen, so we both settled for intermittent, meditative rest to prep for the day ahead. But oh, did we miscalculate the prep we truly needed.
What do you know: we arrive in Bari, still without our coffee, and our 6:30 am flight to Rome is canceled. No problem, the lady at the front counter said: a 7:30 flight is available. Enjoy your middle seats at the very last row of the plane! Cool, we said. But remember, 7:30 am in Italy means 8:00. Try 8:20. No big deal, we didn’t have a Rome to Frankfurt flight at 10:15 that we needed to be on or anything…
We arrived in Rome at around 9:20. The back of the plane was a great place to be at that time, because it forced us to get some HIIT-training done the minute we got off the plane. To the counter in Rome we went, to see if we could make our flight to Frankfurt despite cutting it close…
No chance. We left the Alitalia counter and went to Lufthansa. Here comes one of those pinnacle moments in comedy, the kind that become “famous scenes”. When we explained what had happened to the counter clerk, he informed us that because we missed our Rome-Frankfurt flight, we were also going to miss our Frankfurt-LAX flight. If we wanted to fly business class our of Frankfurt the next day, however, that was no big deal at all. We just needed $6,000 – per person. For a seat that folds into a bed. And maybe the privilege of asking for extra rolls with dinner.
We were relegated to booking a flight to Munich and flying from Munich to LAX on economy. For now, we thought, the battle has been lost, but not the war. We would go on to try and get business class multiple times from other sources.
Guys, I am in no way trying to offend anyone or come off as snooty when I talk about economy class. I fly economy class EVERYWHERE, including when I went to Europe in 2011 for study abroad. But flying economy after having flown business, living in unbelievable excess for a week, getting almost no sleep, and expecting to fly business going home is kind of a recipe for first-world-problem disaster. I admit that it’s ridiculous. I admit that it’s absurd. But there’s a reason I call the 11.5 hours we spent on the way home yesterday a “Spartan journey”…
Anyway, the fun didn’t end when we found the line to security. We were in it for about an hour. I kid you not, from the looks of the line, it rivaled that of the Vatican. It was absolutely soul-crushing. Had I not been so frustrated, I would have taken a picture. We got through it, found our gate, and once again had a delayed departure to Munich.
On the bright side, the Munich airport is SWEET! One could have a lot of activities there with enough time. We proceeded to talk to about 3 people from different Lufthansa desks, telling them our situation and attempting to get our business class seats back for the ride home. We came to find out that because there was an emergency landing in Rome and crazy weather throughout Germany, our flight was THOROUGHLY booked with waiting lists out the wazoo. One Lufthansa clerk, who was actually the most helpful, even told us that flying in economy was going to be “terrible”. I admired her honesty.
Our final attempt to get back into business occurred at the gate desk. We were on the waiting list and remained there. And that was that. To economy class we went, and stayed.
So…was it that bad? Actually, no. We both had books (mine: “Unnatural Creatures”, a series of stories compiled by Neil Gaiman) and access to the same TV as business class. The biggest difference is the sleeping/space situation. I will admit that compared to business class, this is absolutely miserable. We also didn’t get little “care packages” with toothbrushes and eye covers and stuff, so I smelled and looked like a homeless cat when I got off the plane.
When we finally arrived in LA, we were the last bags of the carriage and moved ever-so-slowly through customs. It was probably about the 9th line we’d been in that day, so when it was finally done, I felt this Shawshank-esque sensation of not knowing what life was like outside lines. I told my mom that I probably have some killer sick delts from carrying around my 30-pound backpack all day, though.
So, what about this story is of interest and use to you? I’m not entirely sure. Perhaps you are amused, or perhaps you will take away the following lessons…
- Travel, no matter how enjoyable, serene, or incredible, is inevitably composed of uncertainty, whether elongated or brief. Accept the fact that no amount of planning will get rid of the laws of randomness and uncertainty.
- DO NOT RELY ON ALITALIA. Italy is an all-around amazing country and I will be back again and again and again. However, I’d sooner give up taralli than patronize their national airline again. Okay, maybe I’m being a little grumpy. But seriously, they’re sketch. If you can, book any Alitalia flight you take at least 2 hours before you actually have to.
- In general, don’t be afraid of leaving long layovers for yourself. This was critical for us. We effectively had little time in between our flights, which meant that things like eating, resting, and using the bathroom came secondary to us getting places on time. I’m not saying you need to waste days in the airport, but be comfortable spending 2-3 hours in between flights just in case you have a delay along the way.
- Finally, have moments to just sit and laugh about any misfortune you do face. One of the things that got my mom and I through the stress of our adventure was the time we took to make fun of ourselves and the situation. After all, we were lucky to get on a flight to the U.S. in general, and were even luckier to get home safe. Sure, our necks hurt and our stomachs are still turning from the “chicken” we had for dinner (and breakfast), but we’re here. We’re home. We’re happy.
That being said, do I have a thought of the day for this entry? I don’t know. I guess I’ll give one that encompasses everything I wrote above:
Expect the unexpected.
Trite, but true.