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At the Lincoln Airport
Ryan left work mid-morning to take me to the airport. I was still packing (go figure!) up until the last minute before we had to leave. My flights went off without a hitch. A good sign of things to come, I hope. Ryan gave me a big goodbye hug at the Lincoln airport a little before 10. My flight was right on schedule and I got to Minneapolis in plenty of time for my 3.5 hour layover. While there, I ever-so-briefly chatted with a couple Purdue (Ag Econ) students who are studying abroad this summer in China. Then it was on to Amsterdam.
I seriously had the best seat that a coach-fare can buy! I was in the front row of the coach section, with a window seat (so I had the wall to lean against) and plenty of legroom up front. In fact, there was so much room that the girl next to me didn’t have to move at all when I got up (and she was stretched out!). The flight went surprisingly fast. I read a book (The Bright Forever) and watched a movie (Gran Torino). I even slipped a couple cat naps in here and there. Before I knew it, we were chasing down the sunrise around about Ireland or so.
I have to say that the Amsterdam layover caused some stress.
Chasing the Sunrise
This shot was taken in the clouds above Ireland as the sun was rising. I'd watched the sun set on my flight only a few hours earlier. Talk about time warp! We flew, literally, into the next day. The line to get from the gate where I landed to the gate where I was going to have to board was enormously long. There were literally hundreds (this is not hyperbole, folks), hundreds and hundreds of people in front of me. Plus, it went through a passport station and another security screening. So I ended up standing in line about an hour before I could get to the C concourse. Thank goodness for another long layover. By the way, did you know that in Amsterdam, solid Secret-brand deodorant is considered a liquid? A small exchange, I suppose, for not having to take off my shoes.
Once I was to the C concourse, I could breathe a lot easier. So I slowly sipped on a special Dutch hot chocolate. I know that airports are poor substitutes for real culture, but I thought it was a cool (and yummy!) thing to do. It was also my first purchase in Euros.
I attempted sleeping on the flight to Venice (it was about 2 a.m. Nebraska time), but I couldn’t get comfortable enough—even with ear plugs, a neck pillow, and one of those sleep-mask thingamabobs. (Note to Dad and Ryan: Definitely bring a pair of noise-canceling headphones. They will be well worth the expense!) When the pilot got on the intercom to announce we were beginning to make our descent, I took off my sleep mask and started looking out the window. About 20 minutes outside of Venice, I could see snow-covered mountains (the foothills of the Alps, I assume). And then the sky started getting sunnier, the ground started getting flatter, and we started seeing water. (Another note to Dad and Ryan: Try to get a window seat on the A-side of the plane. I was on the F-side and didn’t have as good of a view.)
When we landed, I went down to the baggage claim to pick up my suitcases. I thought that I was going to have to go through Customs. But there did not appear to be any Customs in Venice. There were doors that said “Declarations” and “Nothing to Declare.” I walked through the Nothing to Declare Door without speaking to a single soul. I was prepared for much more of a hassle, especially since I was pulled aside by Customs and given a hard time more than once going to or coming home from Canada!
Anyway I looked around the front area and there was my driver, Fabio (where else but in Italy?), holding a sign with my name on it, “Mr. Lucas.” Oh well, close enough. We walked out to the car—which I think was a shorter walk than it would be to walk from the baggage claim to short-term parking in the Lincoln airport (but a smidge longer than from baggage claim to the parking lot at the Marquette airport). We loaded up my bags and took off like a bat out of hell towards Paderno. Okay, so maybe that’s a little bit of embellishment. But at one point, Fabio explained to me that there’s no real traffic enforcement in Italy. This was when he was going 98 km/hour in a 50 km/hour zone and barely swinging around an old (60s+) lady wearing a housecoat-style dress and riding a bicycle on the edge of the road.
The ride to Paderno was terrific. Because there does not seem to be any real freeway system to speak of, we mostly wound through small towns and down back country roads. The thing that I found amazing was the range of “vehicles” on the roads: cars (usually small… I didn’t see any SUVs), smallish semi-trucks, mopeds, scooters, these three-wheel “trucks” that sound like a scooter almost, but have a truck bed on them, and even a rascal (one of those personal scooters that you see old people “driving” at Wal-Mart).
Fabio dropped me off on campus, where I was greeted by Anna. She gave me a packet of information and a set of keys to my office, car, and apartment. We transferred my luggage to my car (a small, grey Fiat) and I followed her to the place I’ll call home for the next month.
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Jordan
non-member comment
Return trip
I will pick you up in the airport under the name Giordano and drive you fast to your house through the villages and hamlets of the Lincoln metro.