Airports hate me

It’s true. They do. This fact was re-affirmed when I left Sicilia on Saturday, parting ways with my parents at Palermo’s airport after a suitable amount of chaos and havoc!

This is yet another of my temporarily harrowing long stories made short for the convenience of both you and me! Allora. We arrived early at 12 as mum and dad’s plane left before mine but I wouldn’t be able to check in until 2.30 as my plane wasn’t due to leave until 5:20pm. So I could spend the time waiting with my parents as opposed to by myself, I paid a bit extra to change to an earlier flight. Little did I know, as she slowly typed away, painfully saying each letter aloud before finding it on the keyboard, that she was putting me on a flight that would leave in 15 minutes! I rushed to check in, running up through to security when a horrifying thought dawned on me. My laptop. Not in my hand as it should be. Plane. Leaving in 10 minutes. Panic.

My stomach dropped as I ran through the airport down to Mum and Dad, still checking in.

Breath Hollie, calm down. Think James Dean, James Dean, James Dean

Despite trying my best i remained exasperated as I explained the situation and we realized the laptop was still in the rent-a-car which we’d dropped off an hour earlier! Mum ran to the car, Dad rushed to make sure my luggage was pulled off the plane and I went the lady who had 5 minutes prior sold me my new ticket to explain I needed to revert to my old one. “Not possible” after working through the process of many answers of “Not possible” and blank faces I had to buy a new ticket to Milan AND to Pescara so my luggage would go straight through (as the connection wouldn’t provide enough time to re-check in my luggage). 15 minutes later and 200 euros later I was in exactly the same position as I was when we first arrived at the airport except I had my laptop…. Ahh deary me… So we checked through again (dad and I had toup stairs to security and then through arrivals to pick my luggage up from the carousel when they took it off the plane and then up again to re-check it in) and waited and waited

(thank goodness Dad made us go to the airport so early!)
outside the gates until Mum and Dad set off after a hug and a brief “See ya, have fun” I waited for my plane and thought of what was to come. I slept to Milan waking just in time to snap some photos of the Alps,

had a snack of panini at the airport and then flew to Pescara arriving at 9pm. Just to put the cherry of the cake of my travel difficulties, I arrived safe and sound but my luggage didn’t. It was, well…. they couldn’t tell me where. So I filled in forms blah blah blah, met my friend and Italian tutor from home and the artist we would be staying with up in the hills out of town. The Airport lady said they would call when they had news and off we went. It was FREEZING and i just had a ¾ length top, a cardigan, my wrap around skirt and sandals – nowhere near adequate so I borrowed the artists jacket and piled into the car. After borrowing a big jumper, pants socks and wrapping myself in blankets i crashed into bed around 12pm.

In the morning, I woke to this!


1 Comment

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One response to “Airports hate me

  1. sally

    As usual you landed on your feet. You have more in common with a cat than you realise. LM

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