Tuesday April 8th, 2008
Ciao my beautiful people!!!
Its about 430pm in Florence and I’m sitting in Mr. Uomo’s house listening to the rain. I finally made it here early this morning at 1am after a long long LONG day worth of traveling including a 10 hour flight to Amsterdam, a 6 hour layover plus a 2.50 hour delay and then another 2 hour flight to Florence. 20.50 hours total and yes, I’m exhausted.
But overall, yesterday wasn’t too bad. You can only bring 2 check in’s weighing a total of 100 pounds and when I was checking in, I was over by 7 pounds. And when you go over, there is a fee of $50. But Keri at KLM was so nice and after our little conversation she actually let me slide! Amazing! So then I board and for some reason I thought I had the aisle, but when the other two people came, I realized I had the window instead. So my first thought to myself was, “Damn” and I said that out loud, so the father and son combo thought I was mad at them! Lets just say they were not too impressed by me. Since the father thought that I was an angry mad woman, he went out of his way to find me an aisle seat. At first, my thoughts were, “Oh no, I didn’t mean it like that.” And I tried to make chit chat, but he already was set on his first impression of me. So again, he looks around for an aisle seat and asks the flight attendant. Low and behold, there is an aisle seat, but not just any aisle seat, this seat is pretty good! No seats in front of it and right next to the restroom. Plus its next to a friendly man (Andre) from Amsterdam, who I chit chat the whole way to Amsterdam with. Perfecto! So far so good. I think to myself, wow, I feel good, no nerves, nothing.
I get to the Amsterdam airport and see that it has so many things to do while you’re waiting. Museum, spa, massage, hotel, restaurants, bars, comfort seating, internet etc all inside the airport. But one setback, it is a non-smoking airport, which means, if you want to smoke, you have to go outside through customs and then wait in line to get back in. I learned from Andre that Holland just started to implement a non-smoking rule about 4 months ago and of course, everyone is complaining and he said that starting July 1st it will be in full effect, restaurants, bars, cafes etc. So after a 10 hour flight, all I want to do is smoke a cigarette and sleep, because I’ve been so excited about going back to Italy that I haven’t had a good nights rest in awhile. I choose not to go through the whole ordeal just to have a cigarette and find a lounge chair and sleep for about 2 hours. So after my nap, I get up and walk around. I’m basically counting down now to my flight to Florence and then I look up at the times and my flight is delayed? Until 9pm? I’ve already been in the airport for almost 6 hours and now I have to stay another 2? Well, can’t do anything about that so I go upstairs and find another section of lounge chairs and sleep for another hour. I get up and go to the Mercure hotel located inside the airport and pay 15 Euro ($23) to use their showers. Its pretty neat, you get your own private restroom and everything. I was sooooo close to lighting up a cigarette and taking a couple drags, but I didn’t want to pay a fine or get in trouble before I take off so I leave and start walking to the gate. I pass through the passport line and look for my gate number just to make sure it’s the same gate. My flight leaves at 9pm and I walk up to look at the gate # at 8:20pm. The billboard says my flight has, “departed” So then I run. After the expensive shower I took and getting all nice and ready for Mr. Uomo to pick me up in Florence, I can’t believe I’m freaking running to the gate to my “departed” flight, all the while sweating or should I say perspiring, screw it, I’m sweating and panicking thinking, oh no, I can’t miss my flight, did I miss it? This really blows. Where’s the freaking gate? Why me? So when I’m coming up to the gate, I see 3 people in front of me, that were also running and I watch their body language. I see the woman, put her hand to her forehead and I’m thinking omg, we missed it and omg I do not see a plane outside. So 2 seconds I’m up at the desk and the woman says, very calmly, “Oh no, the plane hasn’t departed yet, please take a seat” and then she gives me this smile and I ask, “then why did it say departed on the billboard?” I love her answer, she just shrugs. What can you do?
Then I’m back walking around the airport looking for some water. I feel so dehydrated and need water. I get my water and walk back. I sit down facing this older man. He strikes up a conversation with me and we start talking and I learn that Steve is originally from Virginia, but has lived in Greece for 20 plus years. He has an accent that is hard to describe because he says, ‘bloody’ ‘eh’ ‘si’ just everything in between that makes you wonder, where does your accent come from? So I ask and he tells me that he just picks it up from all his travels. Weird. So we start talking about Italy and food and olive oil and our lives. Steve used to manufacture hardware but now is a consultant for the same company, he’s going to Florence for a business meeting at his factory . Anyways, we start talking about everything under the sun and he tells me if I love the olive oil in Italy, then I would die for the olive oil from Greece and I tell him I would love to go to Greece one day and to taste the olive oil. And then he says, get this, “Actually, I have some olive oil from Greece….(pause)” and “I say, in your carry- on right now?” and he says, “yes, I do (pause) you know, you can have one.” WHAT????? Are you kidding me? Really? No. Oh my god! He had 3 bottles for his partners he was meeting up in Florence, but lucky me, Ricardo was not going to make it to the meeting and I got his bottle! I HAVE OLIVE OIL FROM GREECE! See how happy I am in my picture? After sitting there with Steve for about an hour I ask him what is his seat number? He tells me, row 4, and I say me too! And then I ask, what seat? He’s says 4C, and then I think really? Because I have 4D! What are the odds?
We hop on the plane and I see this man that reminds me of Mr. Uomo. Exactly. So excitely, I tell Steve that this man reminds me so much of Mr. Uomo, his mannerisms, the way he dresses etc. That passes and we get into our seats, swap jokes, sleep more and then we land. Steve waits to get my luggage and then we’re off. My emotions are going wild. Finally I’m here, I’m home. I wonder how Mr. Uomo looks. I wonder if he’s here. Wow, that cop is cute. Did he bring the big car, I have heavy luggage. I walk out and it’s a sea of people just waiting and I feel fatigued and then Mr. Uomo pops up and grabs my cart, kisses me and says, let’s go, but first I have to say good bye to Steve, so we kiss both cheeks and say our goodbyes. Its nice to know that if I was to travel to Greece, I would have a place to stay (Steve rents out a 2 bedroom apartment to tenants and one of the bedrooms is empty) and a friend to show me around.
But guess who’s standing with Mr. Uomo. The same man that I told Steve reminds me of Mr. Uomo who was on our flight. While Mr. Uomo was waiting for me, he sees Max, a long time family friend, and offers him a ride home. While in the car, Mr. Uomo informs me that we’re going to drop off max first and then we go home. You guys, really, to hear what he just said out of his mouth just made me so warm inside. He didn’t say, we go back to my place, but instead used the word home which I will forever be thankful to God for because for me to come to a foreign country with a foreign language and to see a familiar face and to hear the word home is indescribable……Sorry off track.
Okay, I don’t know who this man is, but I do know that Max dresses well and carries himself very well, is very nice and is chivalrous. We come up to his narrow street and I was expecting an apartment a house, but not this. We come up to a gate and he gets out and puts in his key. And then we drive up his long driveway to his house. Max lives in this grand villa that you would see in magazines. Wow, that’s his house I ask while we’re driving back down. Mr. Uomo says, “diamond dealer.” Cool, now please, lets just go home.
Ciao bellas,
Carol
Ciao my beautiful people!!!
Its about 430pm in Florence and I’m sitting in Mr. Uomo’s house listening to the rain. I finally made it here early this morning at 1am after a long long LONG day worth of traveling including a 10 hour flight to Amsterdam, a 6 hour layover plus a 2.50 hour delay and then another 2 hour flight to Florence. 20.50 hours total and yes, I’m exhausted.
But overall, yesterday wasn’t too bad. You can only bring 2 check in’s weighing a total of 100 pounds and when I was checking in, I was over by 7 pounds. And when you go over, there is a fee of $50. But Keri at KLM was so nice and after our little conversation she actually let me slide! Amazing! So then I board and for some reason I thought I had the aisle, but when the other two people came, I realized I had the window instead. So my first thought to myself was, “Damn” and I said that out loud, so the father and son combo thought I was mad at them! Lets just say they were not too impressed by me. Since the father thought that I was an angry mad woman, he went out of his way to find me an aisle seat. At first, my thoughts were, “Oh no, I didn’t mean it like that.” And I tried to make chit chat, but he already was set on his first impression of me. So again, he looks around for an aisle seat and asks the flight attendant. Low and behold, there is an aisle seat, but not just any aisle seat, this seat is pretty good! No seats in front of it and right next to the restroom. Plus its next to a friendly man (Andre) from Amsterdam, who I chit chat the whole way to Amsterdam with. Perfecto! So far so good. I think to myself, wow, I feel good, no nerves, nothing.
I get to the Amsterdam airport and see that it has so many things to do while you’re waiting. Museum, spa, massage, hotel, restaurants, bars, comfort seating, internet etc all inside the airport. But one setback, it is a non-smoking airport, which means, if you want to smoke, you have to go outside through customs and then wait in line to get back in. I learned from Andre that Holland just started to implement a non-smoking rule about 4 months ago and of course, everyone is complaining and he said that starting July 1st it will be in full effect, restaurants, bars, cafes etc. So after a 10 hour flight, all I want to do is smoke a cigarette and sleep, because I’ve been so excited about going back to Italy that I haven’t had a good nights rest in awhile. I choose not to go through the whole ordeal just to have a cigarette and find a lounge chair and sleep for about 2 hours. So after my nap, I get up and walk around. I’m basically counting down now to my flight to Florence and then I look up at the times and my flight is delayed? Until 9pm? I’ve already been in the airport for almost 6 hours and now I have to stay another 2? Well, can’t do anything about that so I go upstairs and find another section of lounge chairs and sleep for another hour. I get up and go to the Mercure hotel located inside the airport and pay 15 Euro ($23) to use their showers. Its pretty neat, you get your own private restroom and everything. I was sooooo close to lighting up a cigarette and taking a couple drags, but I didn’t want to pay a fine or get in trouble before I take off so I leave and start walking to the gate. I pass through the passport line and look for my gate number just to make sure it’s the same gate. My flight leaves at 9pm and I walk up to look at the gate # at 8:20pm. The billboard says my flight has, “departed” So then I run. After the expensive shower I took and getting all nice and ready for Mr. Uomo to pick me up in Florence, I can’t believe I’m freaking running to the gate to my “departed” flight, all the while sweating or should I say perspiring, screw it, I’m sweating and panicking thinking, oh no, I can’t miss my flight, did I miss it? This really blows. Where’s the freaking gate? Why me? So when I’m coming up to the gate, I see 3 people in front of me, that were also running and I watch their body language. I see the woman, put her hand to her forehead and I’m thinking omg, we missed it and omg I do not see a plane outside. So 2 seconds I’m up at the desk and the woman says, very calmly, “Oh no, the plane hasn’t departed yet, please take a seat” and then she gives me this smile and I ask, “then why did it say departed on the billboard?” I love her answer, she just shrugs. What can you do?
Then I’m back walking around the airport looking for some water. I feel so dehydrated and need water. I get my water and walk back. I sit down facing this older man. He strikes up a conversation with me and we start talking and I learn that Steve is originally from Virginia, but has lived in Greece for 20 plus years. He has an accent that is hard to describe because he says, ‘bloody’ ‘eh’ ‘si’ just everything in between that makes you wonder, where does your accent come from? So I ask and he tells me that he just picks it up from all his travels. Weird. So we start talking about Italy and food and olive oil and our lives. Steve used to manufacture hardware but now is a consultant for the same company, he’s going to Florence for a business meeting at his factory . Anyways, we start talking about everything under the sun and he tells me if I love the olive oil in Italy, then I would die for the olive oil from Greece and I tell him I would love to go to Greece one day and to taste the olive oil. And then he says, get this, “Actually, I have some olive oil from Greece….(pause)” and “I say, in your carry- on right now?” and he says, “yes, I do (pause) you know, you can have one.” WHAT????? Are you kidding me? Really? No. Oh my god! He had 3 bottles for his partners he was meeting up in Florence, but lucky me, Ricardo was not going to make it to the meeting and I got his bottle! I HAVE OLIVE OIL FROM GREECE! See how happy I am in my picture? After sitting there with Steve for about an hour I ask him what is his seat number? He tells me, row 4, and I say me too! And then I ask, what seat? He’s says 4C, and then I think really? Because I have 4D! What are the odds?
We hop on the plane and I see this man that reminds me of Mr. Uomo. Exactly. So excitely, I tell Steve that this man reminds me so much of Mr. Uomo, his mannerisms, the way he dresses etc. That passes and we get into our seats, swap jokes, sleep more and then we land. Steve waits to get my luggage and then we’re off. My emotions are going wild. Finally I’m here, I’m home. I wonder how Mr. Uomo looks. I wonder if he’s here. Wow, that cop is cute. Did he bring the big car, I have heavy luggage. I walk out and it’s a sea of people just waiting and I feel fatigued and then Mr. Uomo pops up and grabs my cart, kisses me and says, let’s go, but first I have to say good bye to Steve, so we kiss both cheeks and say our goodbyes. Its nice to know that if I was to travel to Greece, I would have a place to stay (Steve rents out a 2 bedroom apartment to tenants and one of the bedrooms is empty) and a friend to show me around.
But guess who’s standing with Mr. Uomo. The same man that I told Steve reminds me of Mr. Uomo who was on our flight. While Mr. Uomo was waiting for me, he sees Max, a long time family friend, and offers him a ride home. While in the car, Mr. Uomo informs me that we’re going to drop off max first and then we go home. You guys, really, to hear what he just said out of his mouth just made me so warm inside. He didn’t say, we go back to my place, but instead used the word home which I will forever be thankful to God for because for me to come to a foreign country with a foreign language and to see a familiar face and to hear the word home is indescribable……Sorry off track.
Okay, I don’t know who this man is, but I do know that Max dresses well and carries himself very well, is very nice and is chivalrous. We come up to his narrow street and I was expecting an apartment a house, but not this. We come up to a gate and he gets out and puts in his key. And then we drive up his long driveway to his house. Max lives in this grand villa that you would see in magazines. Wow, that’s his house I ask while we’re driving back down. Mr. Uomo says, “diamond dealer.” Cool, now please, lets just go home.
Ciao bellas,
Carol
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