Well, I was looking for a little adventure. And I got it. The trip to Southern Italy was a tad stressful with two very weepy, exhausted girls. O.K., make that three. I was dragging a bit myself.
I couldn’t sleep one minute on the overnight flight to Rome because I like to be ready and alert in case the pilot passes out from food poisoning and the crew suddenly needs my assistance in the cockpit.
Hey, I’m not naive. I saw the movie “Airplane.”
Once we arrived in Rome, we had to switch planes. It was a bit of an ordeal because we had to pick up and recheck our luggage. I was so grateful that I had thought to bring a sherpa along.
It’s so weird how much that guy looks like my dad.
Despite my sprightly and helpful sherpa, we missed our connection. While we waited for the next flight, Dylan passed the time playing cards and Summer mostly just ate chips.
We finally arrived in the city of Monopoli, only to find that our accommodations were absolutely not going to work because the place turned out to be a child danger zone… with an incredible amount of dark, narrow, stone staircases, without any railings. I am absolutely sure it looked sunny and safe in the snapshots.
So after nearly 24 hours of traveling and night approaching, I started melting down. Not laid back Italian style. Hard core Manhattan style. With a ridiculous amount of tears.
And then the universe (along with some very kind Italians) delivered…
A perfect hotel room. A trattoria for dinner. And 12 hours of sleep. Oh the happiness.
I took a few Italian language lessons before the trip but so far no one seems to understand a darn word I am saying. I guess because I’m mostly speaking in English and Spanish. I really don’t remember my Spanish being this good when I lived in Madrid.
But I’m learning a few Italian words. I quickly learned the word for “dad.” Since I’m traveling with my father, everyone just assumes he is my husband. Kind of, sort of, definitely icky. So I like to clear up that misconception immediately.
And I do miss my husband desperately. He’s meeting us here on Saturday. But with incredible food, wine and young strapping Italian guys… oh, I guess, I’ll manage to keep busy. Here’s the hotel desk staff at night… seriously.
But honestly, I really can’t wait until Rick gets here. I hope he knows about that food poisoning thing for his flight over. I just know the crew will be counting on him.