Currently I am relaxing in my parents' apartment outside of Siena, Italy. This relaxation has been hard earned, as the stress involved in getting here was crushing at the time. Before I get to pretty photos (taken with fancy new camera - yay!) let me just give you a breakdown of THE HORRIBLE STRESS OF TRAVEL.
If you've done any traveling at all, then you probably know that the best stories/memories are made in the most horrible moments. I had a pretty epic series of these moments, starting about 36 hours BEFORE my trip, when I discovered that although my passport was still valid for a month, this was not enough to be granted entry into Italy. Emergency passport updates are expensive. It's good to check these things months in advance, but I was given and accepted some bad information, so I'd thought I was fine. What followed became so ridiculous that I was almost convinced that the universe was trying to save me from a flight that was destined to go down. We'll see if I make it home....
- 10 PM 3/30 - I discover that my passport won't get me in to Italy.
- 1 AM 3/31 - Research leads me to discover that I must update my passport in person, at an agency. The nearest ones are in Seattle and San Francisco. I'm flying to SF to get my connection, so I try to schedule an appointment there using the automated phone system.
- 1:30 AM 3/31 - The only remaining appointment is for 11:00 am 4/1. My flight arrives there at 12:55 PM. Doesn't quite work, but I make the appointment, cause what choice do I have?
- 8 AM 3/31 - I call the airline (American - they are bastards) to reschedule my flight for an 8 AM departure/ 10:00 arrival in SF. This cuts it a bit close, but it's the only option, once again. Rebooking costs FUCKING $400! They can't just rebook the one flight, they have to rebook the return as well, even though it isn't changing. It's a fucking criminal policy, but what am I going to do? Throw away tickets to Italy?
- 6 AM 4/1- Amy (who is my hero, FYI) borrows Talia's car to drive me to the airport, but we being cyclists get lost on the way. Highways are hard...
- 7 AM - I finally make it to the airport and go to check in. The lady at the counter is the slowest moving individual I've ever encountered. I attempt to check my bag through to Geneva, where I'll have a layover for the night. With my passport about to expire, they can't even do that. Given the time limit in getting to my appointment, this means I have no choice but to abandon my backpack at baggage claim and pick it up on the way back in. Hopefully airport security doesn't catch on, as leaving luggage unattended is a big no-no.
- 8 AM - on board my flight I'm at the very back. I talk to the flight attendant, explaining my situation. I ask if there's anyway they can let me get to the exit before everyone starts milling about in the aisles, digging in the bins (it can take as much as 30 minutes to get off the plane once this starts). They tell me that there's an open seat in row 6 I can have. Finally a bit of luck!
- 10 AM - the flight lands and the man next to me (in the aisle seat) insists on blocking my way out while getting his bag out of the bin. I try to explain, and he has plenty of room to step aside while he gets his bag, but he's an entitled prick (you know, the kind of man who wears a business suit so he thinks he's important, yet he isn't seated in business class....), so he won't do it. The older woman who has the window seat on the other side of me says "he just doesn't want you to get ahead of him" and shoves me past his sorry ass. I yell "THANK YOU!" and run for it.
- 10:30 AM - I have made it onto BART and am on my way into SF for my appointment. The train stops in a tunnel. There are people on the tracks up ahead. My heart sinks. Am I about to have to turn around and shell out another $400 for a flight back to Portland after all of this? NO! The train starts to move again after 5 minutes and I JUST make it to my appointment in time.
- 12 PM - I have made it through my appointment, and just have to return between 3 and 4 to pick up my new passport. That leaves 3 or 4 hours to make it to my 7 PM flight (minus the suggested 2 hours for check in and the indignities of passing through security). I meet up with my brother who lives in SF, we get lunch, I drop my stuff at his apartment and we take a walk.
- 2:45 PM - on the way back to get my stuff before picking up my passport, some fire trucks pass us. We get to his apartment building and they're parked outside. We both exclaim "FUCK!". Fortunately it was a false alarm. We're granted entry, and on the way in a fireman emerges carrying a giant axe, complaining that he didn't get to use it.
- 3:15 PM - I go to pick up my passport. The line is vast. It's after 4 by the time I get it.
- 5 PM - I make it back to the airport and go to the domestic arrivals to get my bag. Nobody mentions anything about its being left unattended, thankfully. Then I have to find my way to check in at the international terminal, which is really fucking far away. SFO is a pretty big airport.
- 7 PM - I've made it to my flight. Now, a few months ago I paid $30-something each way to choose my seat, which is a newish service from British Airways (also bastards). I did this so that I could be behind the bulkhead with a little more legroom, as airplanes are torture for the long legged. They have changed my seat assignment. Both ways. Turns out this happened to both of my parents too, leading me to believe that the choose your own seat system is a total fucking scam. I can apply for a refund within 14 days, but I'll bet they count on most people forgetting to do that, and chances are they'll claim that the seat they gave me was comparable since it was an aisle seat (if there's no extra legroom, I prefer the window and it gives you something to lean on).
Anyway, there was more after this, but the rest of it amounts to vague irritations in comparison to the above. I eventually made it to Venice, which is where I met with my mother before coming to Siena. Now, ON TO PHOTOS OF VENICE!
I think the narrow residential canals are my favorite... this one was nice and quiet, which is rare in such a touristy place.
We found a sock shoppe. We explained with some difficulty that I work for an American sock company. I gave her my card. She tried to give us a mannequin leg. She was basically the cutest thing ever.
Gondolas!
In front of San Marco Cathedral.
The Grand Canal.
Borg masks. Venice is big on masks.
