Survived

September 17, 2006

I survived the flight.

It was awful.

A sensationally obese young lad of eleven or twelve in the seat in front of me kept jerking his seat back to full decline at unexpected moments. I kept waking up in pain. And then I lost my wallet and ended up with three rows of very helpful Italians on their hands and knees looking beneath their seats trying to find it for me. Really, they didn't have to do that. Thanks to their efforts, however, the wallet was produced and I was able to get off the plane.

I'm at the Milan airport now, the "new" airport about an hour away from the city proper.

Buses come out on the tarmac here to take passengers off of the smaller planes. As we were strolling across the blacktop in the cool morning air, the fringe of the Alps that surround Milan to the northeast in a semi-circle started to peek out from under the clouds.

There is already snow on the mountains.

I would have taken a photo, but -- you know -- you can't take photos at the airport anymore.

I wrote yesterday something about the "last of the Italian summer." Erm. Judging by the weather here -- cloudy, cool, damp -- summer left Milan a couple of weeks ago.

Southward, ho.

I'm off to find some pizza ... and then off to Rome on another flight.

-- Aaron