Sunday 19/02/2017.
We got up at 8:15 a.m. and after getting ready, had nothing else to do, so we headed to Fondemente Nove to see if we could catch an earlier ferry back to Marco Polo airport. An Alilaguna ferry arrived at 9:40 so we got on that one, instead of the 10:02 one we’d planned to catch. We now have our sea legs and can stand without losing balance. We got to Marco Polo airport and went to the wrong floor. Someone directed us to the right one but the check in for our flight wasn’t open for another half an hour.
We’d bought strawberries yesterday and threw the remaining ones out in our apartment, but we could have brought them and eaten them while we waited. Our suitcase was lighter than when we’d arrived, even with our bulky coats in it. Our fancy Venetian mask didn’t fit in the briefcase trolley, so we carried it. We’d spotted the mask in St Mark’s Square for €50, then again by the Rialto bridge for €70. In Cannaregio, a shop not far from our apartment sold the same mask for €20, so we bought it there.
Wipe Out
Everyone got through security without a patdown, except Lynx. The woman ran a white paper strip over her hands, clothes and inside her bag. Tom said it was to check for controlled substances. What an insult to her honour! She could have lied and pointed out the wrong bag.
None of the shops downstairs sold Red Bull, much to our annoyance, so we headed up. No Red Bull. Anger was building. Another shop. No Red Bull. They only sold Coke or water. Anger bubbled into imminent rage. This was our Canongate incident all over again. The next shop sold Red Bull. Like a bomb diffused with seconds to spare, the meltdown was avoided and the people of Marco Polo airport were spared.
Homeward Bound
Our plane was delayed by twenty minutes, which wasn’t too bad. A steward offered to place the mask, which was in a carrier bag, into the overhead compartment. Cat explained it was fragile. He placed it gently, then a woman shoved her coat on top of it and started ramming her coat in to make it fit. The steward swiftly pulled the mask to safety, put the coat in then laid the mask carefully on top.
The stewards moved Tom for take-off and landing because we were sitting by the emergency exit and apparently, you have to be fully fit to be in charge of the emergency exit doors (he walks with a cane). There’s nothing wrong with his arms. Cat was across the aisle by a couple in their sixties, which essentially meant that we were in charge of saving the middle section of the plane. The Fates crossed their fingers, and even the gods prayed there would be no incident.
Passport Control
Luckily, we didn’t have to spring into Baywatch mode, and we got through passport control ok. Apart from the man who checked our passports, who was not happy about having to take our passports out of our Nightmare Before Christmas passport wallets. We’re sorry our cool wallets ruined your day, but some places won’t let you fly if your passport is crumpled. Do we seem like the type of people who can keep a passport pristine?Tom and Amy didn’t have passport wallets, so he greeted them cheerfully and asked how their holiday was. Talk about favourtism. Hope he gets a papercut.
When we landed back in Bristol airport, we rang the farmer who we’d left our car with, and he came within ten minutes. It was startling to hear a strong Bristolian accent after spending days hearing nothing but Italian ones. There was one glitch on the way home when they closed a road in Bristol and we were diverted through country lanes. We dropped Tom and Amy off then went home. We gave our mum her presents and she gave us our remaining birthday presents – a skull lamp with a spine. There was no ice cream to celebrate our return, but Tesco mistakenly sent us oven chips last week so we had them instead. Arrivederci, Italy, we will return.
Read Day 5.