This is Italy!
Clare, the VBT greeter at the airport when asked about lost luggage!
Our new traveling motto: "But of course. This is Italy." Let me expand upon the brief notes and exhausted ramblings of yesterday.
#1: Late. We had booked a van to take Chris, Jeanne, Mimi, and me to the airport. When he was 15 minutes late, Mimi called the company, and they said he was .4 miles away. Apparently he was walking, because he did not arrive until 15 minutes later! He arrived with no apologies, introductions, or smiles. Just a bit of an attitude as he shot one of our suitcases rolling down the driveway and into the street! I was proud of Mimi, who is a bit paranoid about being late -- especially to the airport -- for not ripping his head off.
#2: Wrong turn. Our grouchy, defensive driver has apparently never been to the airport before because he was cruising right past the 605 fwy when Mimi practically grabbed the wheel to get him on the right course.
#3: Lost. We finally got to the Sepulveda exit toward the airport, when grouchy driver exclaimed, "Too much traffic," and jerked backed (excuse the pun) onto the freeway, getting off at the next exit. Since we were running late, we thought, "Oh good. He knows a short cut." I forgot that he had apparently never been to the airport when he drove miles out of the way, consulting his GPS, and making us even later than we were!
#4: Late. Although we made our flight on time, the flight left late. We were concerned because we had such a short time to transfer in Rome for the flight to Florence, which brings us to
#5: Stampede. We were late into Rome, and piled into long, slow, security lines, knowing we were cutting it close. They opened a new line, and we bolted for the front. Chris, Jeanne & I were celebrating our progress when we realized Mimi was not with us. Apparently, she had been knocked down in the stampede, spilling our snacks all over the security line, and then had been yelled at by a large woman who was mad that Mimi was blocking her progress! Oops. Sorry, Mim.
#6: Missed. After getting a steaming Mimi through security, we ran to our gate, knowing we were going to be close. As we approached the gate, we were so glad to see people still there, but were told that, because our plane was late from LAX, our bags had not arrived, and so we couldn't get on that flight!
#7: Late. We were transferred to a flight 3 hours later, so were late into Florence. We were supposed to be met by our tour people, but saw no one as we waited for our bags. And waited. And waited.
#8: Missing. My bag was not in Florence! The Alitalia rep looked it up (after my trying to explain in Italian what my bag looked like, and finally pointing to #22 on the "What does your bag look like?" photo) and told me that my bag had been left in Rome, and they would try to deliver it the next morning. As I walked away, rolling Mimi's bag, the woman ran after me yelling. I didn't understand at first what she was asking, and finally realized she was asking if I'd found my bag. She had just told me it was left in Rome, so I lost a little confidence regarding Alitalia's ability to deliver my bag in the morning! We finally met up with our VBT tour greeter, and when we told her about my bag, she told us that happens all the time. She said, "Of course. This is Italy!"
#9: Scared. Next we had a harrowing ride through the streets of Firenze. Our cab driver, Luciano, was a warm, friendly guy who did not speak English. That did not keep him from telling stories, asking questions, and explaining things in Italian during the whole ride. In addition, he took a lesson from the Italian Stereotype Guidebook and talked with his hands (in the air -- not on the wheel) as we drove down narrow streets, narrowly missing pedestrians, bicycles, strollers, and other cars! I caught a few words ("Non canto" -- I don't sing, even though my name is Luciano!), and something about Jesus and a restaurant (I don't think Jesus was eating there, but I'm not sure). Chris, on the other hand, acted as if she understood every word he said, nodding and repeating phrases. I was so impressed at her understanding of Italian until it became apparent that she had no idea what he was saying either (plus, she kept calling him Marcello, instead of Luciano!).
#10. Pooped. We arrived at our lovely hotel, checked in (sans baggage) and strolled around, staying awake as long as possible. Occasionally, one of us would fade out, but regained our second wind, ate dinner at Harry's Bar on the Arno, and settled in for some well-deserved rest!
After the ride, we returned to the hotel to change and have a briefing, wine tasting, and dinner. All of the people in our group (18) seem really nice, and the leaders are funny and warm and very helpful. We went downstairs to meet the wacky, entertaining, and hilarious Luigi, the owner of the agraturisma, chief wine maker, and hotelier. He told us a complete history of wine-making in Italy (using our guide Timothy as a translator) while he poured wines. Very entertaining!
Finally, we had a 3 hour long dining experience with more food than I've ever seen (salads, appetizers, pasta, fish, veal parmesan, desserts, wines, ...). It was delicious, and I don't think I'll ever be hungry again!
