On my trip through Europe, probably the most miserable times were related to time spent at airports, and in my flight to Rome. Although I usually have a great time at airports, people watching and reading, this time was different, I felt like I was on 'The Amazing Race'.
My flight was intended to leave O'Hare Airport in Chicago at 1:50 PM. I was then supposed to have a 1 hour layover in Philadelphia before embarking to Rome. I decided that I did not want to take any risks in missing my flight, so I left my house in the city around 9:30, which was almost pathetically early. I took a bus and the El, and made it to the airport around 10:15. I checked into my Us Air flight, did not check my bag(which was super clutch thinking on my part, and crucial for my trip), and zipped through security. I was reading a book at my gate by 10:45, which was about 3 hours before the flight was supposed to board.
I waited patiently reading my extremely boring book(about an old geezer walking the Appalachian Trail), and about 30 minutes before the flight was about to board, they changed the time on the screen to say that the flight was delayed an hour and a half. Therefore, I would be unable to make my connection, and would have to spend the night in the Philly Airport, and delay my trip. I stormed the desk and sweet talked the lady into booking me onto an Al Italia, which was direct. I was pretty happy about this, as I took a tram from terminal three to terminal five.
When I got to my new terminal to check in, I was told that I would be flying standby on the Al Italia flight, and that the flight was full. The lady at this booth recommended that I go back to US Air and demand to speak to a manager. She also said that I should hurry because 2 other people from my original flight would be quickly on my tail. The race was on! Back on the tram to terminal three.
Back at US Air, I talked to a manager, and told her to get me on a flight to Rome that day. She was able to book me in a confirmed seat on an American Airlines direct flight to Rome, leaving at 6 PM. She said it was the last seat on the last plane leaving for Rome that day. I had made it, I had won my mini Amazing Race.
So I waited for a few more hours, and eventually, it was time for me to board my plane. I was completely ready to leave Chicago, I had been at O'Hare Airport for nearly seven hours, and had eaten three meals there. I walked triumphantly down the aisle with my North Face Terra 60 backpack that I had thought ahead not to check. I walked further and further through the fuselage of the plane for what felt like miles, and as I neared my seat.....Oh Shit... This can't be true....A huge fat man was sitting immediately next to me. What rotten luck.
I not-so-delicately smashed my pack into the overhead compartment, and took my assigned seat in the way back of the plane in the absolute middle seat, sandwiched between the gargantuan man, and a know it all cougar.
For the next nine hours or so, the obese man's enormous arm and elbow were touching my chest. The heat controls didn't work in the plane, and it was hot as Hades in the back of the plane---The man was sweating on me the entire flight. I almost was brave enough to take a picture to document him eating a wheel of cheese during the flight, but I chickened out. The in-flight movie was 'Mama Mia' which sucked, but was only made better by the fact that the sound system did not work in my section, so I did not have to listen to Pierce Brosnan sing. Unfortunately, my reading light didn't work either, so I had nothing to do except think about the amazing adventure that lay before me, as I try to ignore the beads of sweat(not mine) rolling down my right sleeve.
European Trip to be continued....
Next Stage...Naples, Italy.
