Italia: Days 16 & 17
The raging upper respiratory track infection that I always seem to get when crossing the Atlantic in a sardine can with wings had reached its climax in the wee hours of Friday morning with alternating bouts of violent shakes from the chills under every available bed covering and withering episodes of hot sweats from a raging fever while laying atop said same bed covering.
Then, precisely at 5:30am, all hell broke loose. The alarm clock sounded the beginning of our return home from the olive groves of Montestigliano.
Folks, let me tell you, the infamous Bataan Death March of WWII now has a Italian cousin.
We departed our house on Montestigliano at 6:30 to return our rental cars (Conveyance #1) in Florence (Fienza). The Saturday morning traffic on the Superstrata from Sienna was light and no one got lost. Even with topping of the tanks with fuel and waiting half an hour for the guy at the rental office to eventually return from his morning coffee break and check us in, we had a full two hours to walk (Conveyance #2), luggage in tow, to the train station some three blocks away to catch a train to Venice. Mussolini being long dead, the train was, naturally, running half an hour late.
But, eventually the train (Conveyance #3) did arrived and took us to the station in Venice located on the banks of the upper end of the Grand Canal. The idea was that a baggage service would pick up our stuff at the train station and take it to the hotel, leaving us with a bonus afternoon and evening in Venice before our Sunday flight to the US of A. We waited an hour for the baggage service that, naturally, would never appear. So it was that we lugged our luggage down the steps of the train station and boarded a water bus (Conveyance #4) for the journey to the bus station where we waited for the #5 bus (coincidentally Conveyance #5) to take us to the Marco Polo airport to catch the hotel shuttle.
We arrived at the airport about 3:00pm and called the Marriott Courtyard hotel to send the shuttle. The shuttle (Conveyance #6) arrived about 4:15 because ... only in Italy ... the shuttle for a Marriott hotel does not run between 1 and 3 because the drivers are on siesta during that time! We arrived at the hotel at 4:30, some 11 long hours after waking for the trip.
Incidentally, the hotel found my demand for a 2/24th refund on the room charges amusing. Apparently I must pay to sleep on their time but they can sleep on my time for free!
I went to bed at 4:35pm and slept for 14 hours as my case of the crud raged on.
We left the hotel the next morning at 9:00am aboard the same hotel shuttle. This time the driver did not want to put all our bags on for some reason known only to him and told us to wait for the next shuttle. The hotel manager saw the half empty luggage hold in the shuttle and ordered him to load the bags which he did reluctantly.
We checked our bags with the airline, cleared Italian customs and settled in for the two hour wait for the airplane to leave for Philadelphia.
The US Airways flight on a Boeing 767 (Conveyance #7) left on time and arrived early with good, courteous service in between. Hell, compared to most of the service we had experience in Italy the past two weeks, it was downright great service. And, the same can be said for the US Customs officer who greeted us with a genuine smile.
We cleared Customs and began our three hour wait for the connecting flight to Raleigh.
I was ready to kill for a hamburger, or even a cheese steak. But, no, not a single MacDonalds, Wendy's, Burger King, Hardees, White Castle, or burger joint of any kind could be found in the whole terminal. So we went to TGI Fridays and bought one for $7.50, cheap by Italian standards for a meal.
The US Airways flight to RDU in a nice clean Airbus 319 left on time and arrived early, again with good, courteous service in between.
A driver-owned taxi (Conveyance #8) awaited us at the curb and we arrived home in Cary about 9:00pm local time (3:00 am Italian and body time), some 45 hours after beginning the Great Italian Death March of 2007.
Getting paid to travel on business is bad enough, but paying perfectly good money to travel on your own is way beyond my comprehension.
Then, precisely at 5:30am, all hell broke loose. The alarm clock sounded the beginning of our return home from the olive groves of Montestigliano.
Folks, let me tell you, the infamous Bataan Death March of WWII now has a Italian cousin.
We departed our house on Montestigliano at 6:30 to return our rental cars (Conveyance #1) in Florence (Fienza). The Saturday morning traffic on the Superstrata from Sienna was light and no one got lost. Even with topping of the tanks with fuel and waiting half an hour for the guy at the rental office to eventually return from his morning coffee break and check us in, we had a full two hours to walk (Conveyance #2), luggage in tow, to the train station some three blocks away to catch a train to Venice. Mussolini being long dead, the train was, naturally, running half an hour late.
But, eventually the train (Conveyance #3) did arrived and took us to the station in Venice located on the banks of the upper end of the Grand Canal. The idea was that a baggage service would pick up our stuff at the train station and take it to the hotel, leaving us with a bonus afternoon and evening in Venice before our Sunday flight to the US of A. We waited an hour for the baggage service that, naturally, would never appear. So it was that we lugged our luggage down the steps of the train station and boarded a water bus (Conveyance #4) for the journey to the bus station where we waited for the #5 bus (coincidentally Conveyance #5) to take us to the Marco Polo airport to catch the hotel shuttle.
We arrived at the airport about 3:00pm and called the Marriott Courtyard hotel to send the shuttle. The shuttle (Conveyance #6) arrived about 4:15 because ... only in Italy ... the shuttle for a Marriott hotel does not run between 1 and 3 because the drivers are on siesta during that time! We arrived at the hotel at 4:30, some 11 long hours after waking for the trip.
Incidentally, the hotel found my demand for a 2/24th refund on the room charges amusing. Apparently I must pay to sleep on their time but they can sleep on my time for free!
I went to bed at 4:35pm and slept for 14 hours as my case of the crud raged on.
We left the hotel the next morning at 9:00am aboard the same hotel shuttle. This time the driver did not want to put all our bags on for some reason known only to him and told us to wait for the next shuttle. The hotel manager saw the half empty luggage hold in the shuttle and ordered him to load the bags which he did reluctantly.
We checked our bags with the airline, cleared Italian customs and settled in for the two hour wait for the airplane to leave for Philadelphia.
The US Airways flight on a Boeing 767 (Conveyance #7) left on time and arrived early with good, courteous service in between. Hell, compared to most of the service we had experience in Italy the past two weeks, it was downright great service. And, the same can be said for the US Customs officer who greeted us with a genuine smile.
We cleared Customs and began our three hour wait for the connecting flight to Raleigh.
I was ready to kill for a hamburger, or even a cheese steak. But, no, not a single MacDonalds, Wendy's, Burger King, Hardees, White Castle, or burger joint of any kind could be found in the whole terminal. So we went to TGI Fridays and bought one for $7.50, cheap by Italian standards for a meal.
The US Airways flight to RDU in a nice clean Airbus 319 left on time and arrived early, again with good, courteous service in between.
A driver-owned taxi (Conveyance #8) awaited us at the curb and we arrived home in Cary about 9:00pm local time (3:00 am Italian and body time), some 45 hours after beginning the Great Italian Death March of 2007.
Getting paid to travel on business is bad enough, but paying perfectly good money to travel on your own is way beyond my comprehension.
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