Last Day in Italy: Part 4

Even though I didn't think it was possible to feel more tired than I had when I went to bed, I now realized it was not only possible, but it was a matter of fact:  I felt like complete trash.  

But there was no choice in the matter.  I HAD to get up and I had better get moving.  There were two shuttle buses I could possibly catch, one at 7:00 and one at 7:15.  I figured if I shot for the 7am one, I'd make the 7:15.  Sure enough, as I said my good-byes and headed out the hostel doors, it was 7:05.  

I asked the taxi drivers where the shuttle bus was and they were kind enough to point me in the right direction.  As I approached the bus though, I noticed that the sign said "Ciampino" and not "Fiumicino" where I needed to go.  So I asked the driver, and he points me in the opposite direction (from where I had just come) and told me there were two buses, and I needed the other one.  It's now about 7:12 and I'm a little worried I might miss it, but it's only about a hundred yards away.  

So I hurry my biscuits back toward the other bus and as I do, I pass the cabbies again.  They look at me confused and I say: Wrong airport.  This stimulates lots of words, of which I only get - two buses, same place.  They're saying I have to take the train.  Hmm.  Well the other driver seems to know what he was talking about, so I'm going to at least walk down there and find out.  

When I get there, the driver confirms that he's going to Fiumicino (yay!), but then quickly follows that up with, "I'm taking a private group."  So I can't get on?? Nope.  Not even if I pay??  I'll pay!!  Nope.  Auuuughhhhh!  Turns out the cabbies were right; I am going to have to take the train.  

So I double back (again) for the train and head over to track 24 where I know the airport express train is (one benefit of "living" near the Metro is you learn your way around).  The train is still there and scheduled to leave in about 2 minutes - yikes!  I've got to hurry!

I see a little booth with a man in it and ask him if I can buy a ticket at the electronic machine (I know the ticket is 11 EU and since I only have 8 on me, I'm hoping to just put it on a card).  No he says, you can only buy it from me or at a ticket booth.  Gar!  Okay, okay.  Then I remember I have some change the pocket of my bag - perhaps I have enough to make up the difference and I can just buy it right now.  So I reach my hand in and...empty.  Crap!  That's right, I was robbed.  Forgot about that.  

I frantically search my brain for the nearest cash machine (because the booth doesn't take cards) and I'm in a desperate hurry; this train is leaving any minute.  I run to the bank a few feet away, but it's not open yet.  Augh!!    As I turn around, the train doors shut.  It's too late; I'm not getting on.  

At this point, I'm so tired, and so frustrated, and convinced I'm going to miss my flight home I just begin to soooob.  A man nearby is coming to unlock the door to the bank and thinks this is why I'm crying (which I am...but not really) and explains to me that it's now open; everything is okay.  But it's not okay - though I don't bother to explain to him.  

I go in to use the cash machine, but (as I had learned on a previous attempt) this machine won't do foreign transactions.  So I glumly head over to the other side of the stupid station where I know there is a cash machine that will work for me and get 20 EU cash, the smallest amount I can get out.  Then I pathetically walk back to the man in the ticket booth and purchase my ticket.  In a voice thick with tears, I ask him when the next train is.  7:52 - in 30 minutes.  

My flight is at 10am and with a half hour travel time from the station to the airport I'll be getting there with only an hour and a half before my flight.   That's cutting it REAL close for an international flight.  What am I going to do if I miss my flight?  I have no way to contact my family to tell them I won't be on it, plus, since it's an award travel ticket - how do I even change it if I need to?  

I can feel another wave of hysteria coming on, so I head to the closest café in the station so I can find a corner to crawl into and mentally collapse.  But it's commuter time and the place is packed.  I decide to get a cappuccino (perhaps the caffeine will clear up my thoughts a bit) and sit down.  It's probably good that I gave myself a task to focus on, but in the end, the coffee made me feel physically even more terrible (I wasn't in the greatest shape from the night before).  I now felt even more dizzy and like I had a terrible coffee buzz.  Augh, I hope I don't ralph on the train; that would just top this nightmare off.  

The thirty minutes pass quickly and I soon make my way out to wait for the train.  Since my coat was stolen, I only have a thin zip-up to keep me warm in the early morning chill.  As my teeth chatter, I try not to think about the fact that I got robbed and concentrate on not throwing up and just continuing to move forward to the next task.  I need to get from here to the train.  From the train to the airport...

The train ride is uneventful and (thankfully) even though I've never been to this airport before, I locate my terminal and find the United check-in desk with no problem.  Since I'm flying first class (thank you Dad!) I get to skip the line and head straight for the desk.  I'm worried I'm not in time for my flight, not to mention that I'm 99% sure my bag is over the 50 lb limit.  I'm convinced she's going to deliver either of these pieces of bad news to me at any minute, but the ticket agent just continues at her regular pace, and appears to be checking me in.  

Suddenly though, she begins speaking in rapid Italian to the agent next to her.  For some reason, this alarms me and prompts me to say, "Is there a problem?"  As I wait for the answer, my whole body is tense.  I am tired to the point of sheer weariness, I don't know how many more hurdles I can jump in my state of exhaustion; I'm legitimately afraid that I'll dissolve into unending tears if there is a problem.  

The agent looks up and smiles and says, "Oh no, I was just answering the other agent's question about something else.  Here is your boarding pass.  Head around the desk to security and then a shuttle will take you to gate C."  

I expel the breath I'd been holding and simultaneously say, "Oh."  I explain that I'd had a rough morning and I was worried I was also going to miss my flight.  She doesn't reply, but just smiles at me.  I pick up my bags and decide that lingering longer only gives her more of an opportunity to tell me my bag is over the limit, so I get out of there.  As I approach the security line, I check out my ticket: departure time is 10:30.  Huh, how do you like that?  I guess I hadn't seen the most updated itinerary the last time I checked.  It slowly dawned on me...you're going to make it.  

I spent 14 of the next 19 hours in the air and despite my exhaustion - I didn't sleep.  I knew if I could stay awake until I got home, I would be able to take the fast-track to avoiding jet lag.  Fortunately, flying first class is a great way to do that.  I had hours of movie and TV entertainment on demand at my finger tips.  I know I've said this before, but if you're going to travel internationally, first class is really the only way to go.  I highly recommend it.