airport hotels and the hell’s angels

We’re nearing the end of our trip and we’ve hit that point that everyone can relate to:

You’ve had a great vacation and now you wish desperately that someone in your lifetime would invent George-Jeston-esque time travel so that you can be whisked from your sanctuary by the sea right back into the comfort of your own bed without any planes, trains or automobiles in between.

(((sigh)))

Instead, we schlepped our failing luggage with the broken zippers, torn pockets and malfunctioning handle, along with our sleepy 5-year-old, onto a Milan-bound train, saying one final arrivederci to the lovely Cinque Terre.

After a 3-hour train ride, we arrived in the stazione centrale amidst the hustle and bustle of busy city life. We quickly found a taxi and headed straight to our airport hotel (we have an early flight in the morning and the only item on our to-do list today is to sit by the pool and sip margaritas).

Yet even though reality is slowly seeping back into our pores, we still had the chance to enjoy some entertaining moments:

First off, there was the taxi ride in a large Italian city. That is entertaining in and of itself.

Add to that the fact that our driver did not speak one single word of English. What I loved about this, though, is the common threads that can still connect people even when language is so foreign. We all had mouths to use for smiling, fingers to use for pointing, and voices to use for laughing.

And we all managed just fine.

When we got to our hotel, we headed straight to the pool – per the mini traveler’s request. And we quickly learned why we were the only ones near it.

We were suspicious when the nearby travelers from Canada shouted, “Wow, you are brave!” but we decided to try it anyway.

Suffice it to say that when Canadians warn you about the temperature of water, trust them.

It was refreshing, if nothing else.

The rest of the afternoon was relaxing and uneventful. Well, except for that one time when a member of the Hell’s Angels, Connecticut Chapter, was desperately lost and in need of help with directions to the airport.

Naturally, the helpful and wise Canadian travelers (noted above) obliged.

They asked only in return that the wife get the chance to have her picture taken with this unlikely character. Much to said wife’s deer-caught-in-headlights surprise. I believe they were made Honorary Angels. It was really quite something.

My only regret is not having my own camera at the ready to share this visual moment with all of you.

In totally unrelated news, Olivia ate her own weight in olives and still has two wiggly teeth.

What is your favorite type of olive? Mine is kalamata. I’d love to hear from you!

 

7 thoughts on “airport hotels and the hell’s angels

  1. Yeah, being asked to schlep other travelers luggage up the elevator while in my swimsuit was interesting too. I’m pretty sure the bellhops here don’t where faded brown t-shirts that haven’t been washed in at least 3 wearings and plaid bermuda shorts. But hey, i was more than happy to help them out. Pushing the elevator buttons for them while they were standing in front of them did seem odd though. All olives are yummy.

  2. I’n road weary just reading today’s entry! Alas, the end of another family adventure. Our week’s adventures included the zoo, two round trip street car rides, swimming, and a wedding. Now where are those olives? My favorite? Any kind in my martini 😉

  3. Have safe and enjoyable travels home Lunt Family! Can’t wait to get some face to face commentary and hear if the rooster survived your time away. 🙂 Kalamatas for me too!

  4. I’m still a lover of good ol’ black olives but do like the big green ones stuffed with garlic. And here’s your free insurance policy: FLY SAFE and then DRIVE SAFE
    XOXO Mom

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