That 3-hour power hour of sleep the night before turned into about 1-hour as we both were probably subconsciously worried about over-sleeping. Also, I kept itching my legs all night and thinking I HOPE I didn’t get new mosquito bites last night…I hope.
We were out of the door and on the street by 4:20am. It was dark and no one else was around and you just hoped the people that were supposed to call for the taxi actually called and someone would be showing up soon. Just when I started thinking maybe we should go inside with all of these bags while one of us stays out here as a look-out…our driver pulled up.
The driver was in a class all by himself. He sped down the empty streets while texting throughout the 15-minute drive to the airport. Every time I thought I was going to speak up and say something, he would stop texting. Dana kept clutching my leg as if to say…he is driving too fast, and I was in agreement but also could see we were close to the airport and didn’t want to rock the boat. I Just wanted out of the taxi.
We made it safely and began the process to get our luggage checked. The weighing of the luggage made you cringe much like I assumed the weighing of my person would once I got home. They weighed Dana’s checked bag first and it was just at the limit, regardless they slapped the embarrassing ‘back breaking’ heavy tag on hers. Although my checked bag was within the limit, my carry-on was over weight. So it was a mad scramble to get things distributed between us so that we could board with the carry-on articles we planning on bringing with us.
After we checked in, we had a good cushion of time so enjoyed a few cappuccinos and a pain au chocolate in their airport café. It was one of the nicer airport cafe’s I can remember. It was so good, in fact, we went for two rounds of the cappuccino.
Our connecting flight was going to be leaving on time. It was an inter-Europe flight from Florence to Paris on a 737. We had to ride one of those tarmac buses to the actual plane and it seemed like EVERYONE around us with coughing with the plague. It’s one of those moments where you think – there is nothing I can do – I’m getting slimed right and left in this enclosed environment and I haven’t slept all night – Lord, protect me! It’s one of those times where you just close your eyes until it’s over telling yourself – this is not happening.
After we boarded the plane and took off on the 1.5 hour flight to Paris, here comes the flight attendant down the aisle, with not peanuts, but a whole cart full of piping hot pain au chocolates? Like what? Is this a flight in heaven or what? Sadly, I had already had my fill at the airport café and so I passed on these. Still, I think about that even now and wonder how we can get that option going back home one of these days? Oh how my Monday morning business flights would be so much more exciting to look forward to at the thought of a little pain au chocolate to greet me.
When we arrived in Paris, we had to go through the customs check-point again. Fortunately we had enough time, so it wasn’t as stressful as it was coming through here the last time on our inbound flight when our connection was much tighter. Still, it was hot and the lines were long. But they seemed a lot more efficient in working us through. At the same time, I see more room for efficiency. Once I got up there, the customs agent was completely intrigued by my FitBit, asking me all kinds of questions. ‘How do I like it, how many steps have I had today, how much did I pay, is it helping me with fitness?’ It was so odd. I was so happy to be done with the FitBit conversation when he finally stamped my passport.
Our flight out of Paris was about an hour delayed. It gave us time to go to the Paris Starbucks and pick up a few things. That line was excruciating slow and used up our 1-hour layover cushion. It was a combo of slow workers and customers that didn’t know what they wanted and were ordering for people present and not present in line. With one lady behind the counter and one barista, it was too much. We were thrilled to finally get through that line in be back in the waiting area for our plane. Once they called us for boarding, Dana was randomly selected for extra screening before we boarded- shoes off, pat down, bags searched – heightened security precautions in full force.
We boarded the plane and got settled into our ‘Extra Comfort’ seats on the top deck. While we were waiting to take off, the flight attendants were all in a tizzy trying to get a family accommodated and kept accusing of us being in the wrong seats. We had to show our tickets no less than three times. They would be so sure that we were in the wrong seats when they came up to us and then be baffled each time they saw our tickets. By the time the third one came around I feel like everyone around us wanted to chime in, ‘Hey, they are in the right seats, leave them alone!’
We finally took off and were on our way home on the 13-hour flight. The neck pillows we had so gleefully left home when we found out we were upgraded to business class on the way to Italy, were at the top of mind as we couldn’t get comfortable. Even with the ‘extra comfort’ we felt restless. The perks of the seats were a little more space between each row, the ability to stretch out our legs a little, and not have anyone lean back into your seat. The seats were designed like little buckets that rotated when you wanted to recline.
The movie selection wasn’t great, so I went back to my old favorite Beauty and the Beast (am I a kid or what?) and started to watch that again. I had lived it! Now, I wanted to see how it felt to watch it afresh. In all honestly, when that dining room scene came on, tears fell down my cheeks to understand again that I had been outrageously blessed with that evening at the Four Seasons in Florence. The tears I held back on that night finally found their exit on the plane.
A few meal rounds later and after uncomfortable shifting every which way in our seats trying to sleep and get comfortable, we were finally home. There is nothing like the feeling of hearing from the pilot that you are on the final approach and then finally landing. And my legs were still itching. I was so ready for another shower and my bed. Oh how I’d missed my bed!
Dana and I had both signed up for the Global Entry Pass prior to leaving so we breezed through customs. The longest wait we had was for our luggage. We stood there for a good 20-30 minutes and watched what felt like over 500 pieces of luggage come around in hopes of being reunited with those bags we last saw in Florence. And just when you are wondering if you bags made it, they peak out around the corner and you are all smiles as you are now free to exit the airport and head home.
Dana was taking the Fly-Away to the valley where her son was going to pick her up and I had an angel of a friend picking me up at the airport and taking me home. (Anyone who agrees to pick you up at LAX has immediate angel status as the traffic headed into, out of, and inside the airport is always a hot mess). Dana and I said our goodbyes right outside of the international terminal, looking at each other, smiling and saying, ‘Wow, it’s over. It’s really over.’
Just like that, the dream of our 50th birthday celebration in Italy was now a memory. I was confident that our renewed bonds would continue as we held onto threads of our trip by finding ways to bring the Italian lifestyle home and into our everyday lives. We had already been texting regularly with the honeymoon couple we met at the farm, Tony and Maddie, and they had named our text thread #teampsycho. It was obvious that all of us had walked away from the trip equally enthralled, obsessed, and spellbound by Italy and our experiences on the farm with Isabella, Carlo, and the rest of the family.
So now, the only question left is….how soon can we go back?