Saturday, August 07, 2010

Our Italian Anthem

Heard throughout Florence, everywhere. Apparently a big hit everywhere but the U.S.?

One Stereo Love, coming up!

RIP, my delicious pesto :-(

I suffered a number of regretable losses on the long journey home. Part of the blame lies with airlines. Much of the blame lies with me, as I should have known better. And still more blame lies with those unfeeling French.

Oh, the airlines. I know they're going broke and everything, but these fees on checked baggage are really making the traveling experience that much more stressful. For domestic flights I'm almost used to the idea of $25 for a single checked bag and the resulting chaos that adds to the carry-on baggage stowage situation, where adults regularly bicker over whether that shopping bag really NEEDS to be stored overhead and who is entitled to what space. Let alone the elbowing that occurs once "Zone 4" is finally called and the late schmucks scramble to grab whatever bin space may remain. I'm almost used to it.

Fortunately, for international flights your first checked bag is free. Thank god, because it's no fun to travel 6+ time zones away for a short enough time to survive on the contents of a carry-on. For Italy, I managed to pack everything in a single large backpack, and packed an empty duffle for the inevitable purchases to come. A clever idea (not mine), which would have been that much more fantastic if I could check two bags coming home. Without paying an extra €55 ($73!!!) for the second checked bag, that is. (Thank god that wasn't the case when I returned from Prague! I went beyond the laws of physics packing for that one, and still ended up with two checked and two good-thing-no-one-noticed carry-on suitcases.) Anyway, the plan was to use the duffel as a full-sized carry on.

This brings me to part 2: my stupidity. I was too exhausted the last night before to thoroughly go through my bags and think through what was going in what. This Italy trip included carrying bags over long distances and a TON of stairs so I had distributed the weight as required, but in re-packing and moving my liquids to the main pack to-be-checked (thanks again, useless airline regulation), I remembered only to move that one remaining bottle of wine, and completely forgot about the smaller olive oil bottles, etc. purchased five days before.

So, when K and I arrived at FCO at 5am for our flights home to the US (on about 4 hr sleep), I checked one bag, fought an unfriendly airline lady over whether my carry-on duffel properly fit the length regulations for a carry on (she tried to make me throw things away or pay the extra €55/$73 for it), and moved on to the security baggage screening line. The screening people of course had technology on their side instead of just a sleepy brain, and found the rogue olive oil and limoncello bottles I'd bought as gifts right away. As my checked pack was already on its way to Baggage Land, my only options were
  1. to go back through lines more ridiculous than you'd think possible at 5am to check in again AND pay €55/$73 for that second bag, or
  2. to toss them.

Although downing the bottles of limoncello yumminess could have been a third possibility, I suppose, assuming they could then cart our drunk selves to the gate. :-) So, I sadly tossed the bottles, and moved on with my life.

We connected through Paris/ Charles de Gaulle, which veteran travelers will know requires going through security once again for any terminal changes (and I've never had the fortune of avoiding a terminal change at CDG). This time though, I figured I was in the clear. Italian guards had already cleared my bag right? And there must be some Mussolini-era thoroughness to them, yes? All good.

And then the French guardsfound my jar of pesto.

I should say that this pesto, purchased in Cinque Terre which is also the birthplace of pesto, is amazing. I love pesto anyway, but the folks in Cinque Terre opened my eyes to new fanastic possibilities. Thick, garlicy, flavorful pesto in anything you can think of (including pesto lasagna, by the way, which was FANTASTIC!). And I had bought a jar of my very own. And then stupidly left it packed in my carry-on.

The Italians were forgiving... it was pesto after all! The French, though... were not. Apparently the little green jar of crushed basil, pinenuts, garlic, and cheese deliciousness constituted a partially-liquid security concern to CDG. I can just imagine the headlines now: Rogue Pesto Bomber Creates Culinary Chaos in Terminal E. So, they made me throw away my beloved pesto. This time, downing it right there in the security line felt like a far less desperate option. But I kept my dignity and instead watched in great sadness as it was carted away.

And the French claim to appreciate food. HA!!

Ah well, cé la vie... :-(

Friday, August 06, 2010

And... back!

Today we returned from Italy to the States -- K and me to Philly, S to Minneapolis. Great trip to read about, huh?

Yeah, sorry loyal readers -- found less time and opportunity for updates than I'd thought. But, don't you worry, I filled the time well with adventures, gorgeous sights, and -- yes -- mishaps galore. I plan to backtrack and write everything up over the next few days. In the meantime, a few teaser photos.