Don't leave your baggage unattended (Italy)

And just a brief (just reading back, not so brief, grab a glass of wine) post to wrap up the Italian trip. I thought I'd post a few different photos and record for posterity some of the more amazing things I heard that I forgot to post at the time.

How about the title? It is the 2012 album from a group called The 3 Summits. I think they are German, but I'm not totally sure. As always, the reason for the title will be come clear as you read on.

I need a bottle carrier like this one

Can I begin with jet lag is a bitch? Or, wow, Australia really is a long way from the rest of the world - which goes a long to explaining some of our parochial, small-town thinking.

In the 24 days we were in Italy, we walked a total of 247.1km, an average of 10.3km per day. Despite that, I still put on weight.

A remnant basilica

Random comment: "No, Italians don't really drink beer like us. They prefer wine." Clearly a cultural expert. You may choose your own national identity to vilify, dear reader, but I know where my money is going because I heard the accent.

Transit: We left the apartment in Venice at 10am (ish) to catch the vaporetto to the train station where we had a bit of a wait for the train. The problem is I am a paranoid traveller and like to make sure we have plenty of time to make our connections. Given the rail system in Italy, that has proven to be a sound practice. The rail system is extensive and I would have no hesitation using it as a mode of travel, but I would be a little circumspect around the time they allow for changing trains and making connections.

Arty shot at Assisi

The Frecciarossa delivered us to Rome in high speed fashion where we arrived at 4:10pm. That allowed us just 6 minutes to make the connecting train to the airport. Had I booked the train the web site suggested we would have missed it by 10 minutes and still had to catch the train I booked. I win. After the Frecciarossa, the regional train was riding on the back of a snail. 45 minutes from Rome Tiburtina to Fiumico and the airport. We arrived at 5:15pm

Despite Jayne assuring me that my safety-first attitude to travel is the right one, the gate for our flight was not open when we arrived at the airport. We had to wait almost an hour before we could get to the sane side of the customs barrier.

The flight boarded at 9pm for a 10pm take-off. All on time.

A museum somewhere. No idea where.

Best comment ever: Getting settled in Business Class, I listened as a family arrived to occupy 5 of the seats in the middle section. Two adults and three children under 12. It turned out one was a friend coming along for the holiday. The two boys were talking when one said to the other and said, "How come we are Business Class?" The reply? Is. To. Die. For! "Because there is no First Class on this flight." WTF!!! What a shame, poor little rich kid, had to slum it in Business.

Transit cont'd: Express lane for the security check. I love Business Class. Then we had to walk to the next free state to get to our gate. It was a seriously long walk made longer by dude in Information who sent us to the wrong Al Italia Lounge. I know, right. Scandalous.

Arty shot in Florence looking at the Duomo

Al Italia get my vote for superior food in their lounge and I've been in a few airline lounges over the last few years. Pizza, pasta, charcuterie, good red wine and dolci. The only  negative? They serve prosecco and not champagne. I know, I know, 1st world problems.

Just over an 8 hour flight to Abu Dhabi for another airline lounge while we waited 4 hours for our connecting flight home to Sydney. Jayne's seat wouldn't recline to its flat bed on the flight so we were asked to report to the people at the lounge on arrival. So, I got all excited thinking maybe we'll get a 1st class upgrade on the last leg. How cool. Nup. A 'sorry' letter and an offer of 10,000 frequent flyer points - wouldn't even get her to Melbourne - if she was a FF with Etihad and she's not.

Time for a whinge: Security at some airports is just ludicrous. LA has always been my default in this discussion. Until now. Here's the deal. We passed through security in Rome, boarded a plane, (didn't kill anyone or blow up the plane), got off in Abu Dhabi to transfer to another flight. We haven't left the airport terminal. We haven't been in contact with anyone who hasn't successfully passed through security and we have to be screened again. OK. I get it. You can't be too careful. But can someone explain to me why the boots, the watch, the bracelet and belt I was wearing that had already successfully passed though security while I was wearing them, suddenly have to be removed for this check? They passed through Sydney on the way out, Abu Dhabi on the way to Rome and from Rome only 9 hours earlier. Like WTF!!! I want answers people. What gives?

A Cinque Terre sunset. Meh.

Transit cont'd: Well I told you it was a long trip. As you might imagine, we are a tad over travelling at this point and have been wearing the same clothes for almost 24 hours. It's nearing boarding time, but we haven't been called. Jayne wants to go. We go. Another security check. They want to look inside our carry on bags, you remember, the ones that were x-rayed in Rome and then again when we arrived in Abu Dhabi. Now some flunky with nice rubber gloves is going to find something the two x-ray machines could not.

Our main carry on bag contained our camera and its lenses in a bag and then about 3 kgs of washing. It had been really hot where we'd been. I didn't actually want to open the bag. "This will be interesting" I quipped quietly to Jayne as I lifted the bag onto the bench and opened it for inspection. I unzipped the lid and aired our dirty laundry. Curiously the attendant wasn't very interested, a cursory glance and "Thank, you can close the bag." God bless smelly socks.

Cinque Terre again. The track was steep.

And then? We wait. And so does everyone else. And we wait. No-one says anything despite the large number of Etihad people milling in suits. It was about then that I really began to pay attention to what was happening, read - woke up. We had been corralled in an area that was a mid-point between our gate and the one next to us. In between, and closer to our gate was a vast expanse of empty seats. Why wasn't that open for people to sit ... oh, I see. On one seat and on the ground nearby were three pieces of luggage. Not just any luggage, UNATTENDED LUGGAGE. Be alert, not alarmed. NO. Be alarmed. So what was the response of the security focused Etihad people that had made me crawl through the last security check wearing little else but my socks?

Not much actually. Were alarms sounded? No. Were we evacuated? No. I would have been no more than 10 metres from the offending bags. There was a 20L Nike back pack, a woven carry bag and a small wheeley bag. I watched as the man in army uniform arrived and commenced to x-ray the bags. True story. We actually discussed moving to back of the line in case they exploded. But, hey, I've spent far too much time in China to give up a good place in a line to board an aircraft. We stood our ground.

The x-rays went off into the ether to be analysed and then we scored the OK. No explosion. What sort

A random doorway in Rome.

of person manages to forget three bags? Then the barriers were taken down and we moved to the aircraft in an orderly fashion. Bah ha ha. Thank God for Business Class and a special line.

On the plane, Jayne tested her seat to ensure it fully reclined. Success. Happy days again. Champagne, Great menu. Excellent service. All is forgiven Etihad.

The last leg of the journey, a mere 13 hour flight was commencing around an hour late.

It was a downhill flight so we made up the hour, somewhere. The only down side to the flight was/were screaming children/babies. It must have been absolutely terrible for the parents - it's double loss, you are worried about your child and also worried about upsetting other passengers. And it was a night flight.

Sydney customs, crowded but smooth. Out and in to the car to drive us home.

Home: Sydney time 8am. We had been in transit for over 36 hours.

Um, Rome from a hill somewhere.

Random comment: How good is a hot shower after 36 hours in transit in the same clothes? Rhetorical question dear reader, no need to comment.

And that my friends is the end of my ramblings until the next holiday. Speculation is rife: the south of Italy, Croatia, Germany/Austria, Ningaloo Reef, Tahiti? Stay tuned.

Until the next adventure ...