I wrote the following long blog at the airport yesterday. I wasn't online, so this is a copy and paste. It was a loooong day... about 23 hours in transit from door to door.
I left the apartment really early, at 8:00, but I was ready to go. My flight didn't leave till 2:00, so I had 6 hours to find my way.
Thought I needed some exercise so I walked to the far end of the Termini bus station to buy some nuts to help get me through the 10 hour flight, and back again. In retrospect, this exercise would seem redundant 3 hours later.
I arrived at Fumicino at 9:30. There was quite a long walk from the train to terminal 3. I'd been notified that my terminal had been changed to terminal 5. An arrow pointed me outside. Curious... no sign of a terminal 5, so I went back in to look for an information booth. Found it! "You take the shuttle, madam."
Back outside, I wait with a growing number of people for 10 minutes. The bus finally arrives and we crowd in. At Terminal 5, I take note that there is no desk for AirTransit and slightly anxiously search for information. It takes 5 minutes to find someone. "No madam. AirTransat flies from terminal 3." Curiouser and curiouser. Back to T3 where I find my way to Departures and again cannot see an AirTransat area, so I walk almost to the end of that long terminal looking for either AirTransat or information. It's such a relief every time you actually find someone to answer your question. "It is at the end of the terminal." No 'madam' this time. All the way back, and there it is at the very end where I just came from, set back and hidden behind unrelated signs. I go through that line quickly. I ask where is Security. "At the very end of the terminal, madam." So back I go, thinking that I'm definitely getting my exercise, and glad that my knees are behaving so well!
Security is pretty fast, partly because of the uniformed women who hurry us through, and I can't help thinking how dehumanizing this process is... Anyway, now I can relax. I think. But there is still the checking of the passports. Again rushed through like cattle but I'm grateful it doesn't take an hour, as it did on my arrival.
Ahhh. Finished. I'm now sitting near my Gate with a cappucino. It took close to 3 hours, but my flight doesn't leave till 2:00. If you ever fly in or out of Rome, allow lots of time. I don't plan to do this again. Mai piu. (Nevermore)
20 minutes later... I thought I was just across from my gate, but when I went around the corner...there was yet another shuttle train to Gate G. Could there be a less efficient airport? Probably. Never doubt the ingenuity of the Peter Principle...Didn't have to wait long, but I was grateful I wasn't in a hurry.
The hoops jumped through, I now had time to browse. I'd purchased a pinocchio puppet in Florence, but decided I needed one more. The young woman behind me in line looked at the change in my hand, and asked me for a 50 euro piece. I gave it to her, expecting change in return, but she smiled sweetly and said, "I need it to pay for this (some little trinket) to get rid of my change". The banks of course, won't exchange change so you're stuck with it. I was kinda surprised, but didn't ask for it back. After all, she now had it in HER hand. And it was only a coin. But of course, when I paid for my last meal before boarding the plane (pizza and a bottle of water) I was almost exactly - you guessed it - 50 euros short. So I now have....because of that... 4.70E in coin instead of one .20E coin. I wonder what little trinket I can buy for 4.70E? And if I'm .50E short, would I have the nerve to ask someone to give it to me?
Life's like that.
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