In transit
(Originally written offline on May 21 at 7:48pm Eastern, on Alitalia flight AZ623 from Dulles to Milan)
We got our first taste of Italian administration today when our flight out of DC was two hours late. Now, late flights happen from time to time, but most American airlines have at least learned how to handle customer relations when they happen—for instance, giving regular updates on flight status. The Alitalia personnel gave few announcements and, when I asked for updates, looked at me as if they couldn't quite understand why I wanted to know. Oh, well. I only hope we don't miss our connection in Milan. Maybe we'll be lucky and that flight will be delayed as well.
One other thing: We didn't board the plane right at the gate; we boarded shuttles which drove to the plane and hooked directly up to it. There were enough people to fill two shuttles. I was impressed for a moment when I saw that they were using both the front and rear doors, connecting both shuttles at once. The moment passed when I realized that they hadn't binned the passengers by row, and that we, who had seats in the back of the plane, were boarding at the front. As we shuffled down the aisles, we passed several people who had the reverse problem.
I grabbed a window seat, making my brother sit on the aisle next to me, and I'm looking out at clouds now—over the Atlantic, I presume. As we took off, I realized that we will be leaving the sun behind, flying literally through the night, and seeing it rise again on the other side before we land. For every hour we fly, we will advance almost two hours in sun time. (Which reminds me, I'd better get some sleep.) Indeed, as I write this, I can look back and see the sun floating on the horizon, about to descend below the clouds.
I'm now reading a Lonely Planet Italian phrasebook that I bought my mom for Mother's Day, trying to learn more words. The pre-flight announcements were given in both English and Italian; I listened hard but could usually only pick out isolated words and short phrases: questo volo (this flight), l'uscita (the exit), in casa d'emergencia (in case of emergency), etc. At one point I understood a whole sentence, and was very pleased with myself, but now I've forgotten what it was.
I don't think the reality of this trip has hit me yet. I had a brief flicker of excitement as we were taking off, as the physical ascent of the plane made me realize, "Oh wow, I'm actually going to another country! Another continent! Another hemisphere!" I think I will pull out my iPod later and listen to "Journey to the Island" (from Jurassic Park); that would fit my mood perfectly.
We got our first taste of Italian administration today when our flight out of DC was two hours late. Now, late flights happen from time to time, but most American airlines have at least learned how to handle customer relations when they happen—for instance, giving regular updates on flight status. The Alitalia personnel gave few announcements and, when I asked for updates, looked at me as if they couldn't quite understand why I wanted to know. Oh, well. I only hope we don't miss our connection in Milan. Maybe we'll be lucky and that flight will be delayed as well.
One other thing: We didn't board the plane right at the gate; we boarded shuttles which drove to the plane and hooked directly up to it. There were enough people to fill two shuttles. I was impressed for a moment when I saw that they were using both the front and rear doors, connecting both shuttles at once. The moment passed when I realized that they hadn't binned the passengers by row, and that we, who had seats in the back of the plane, were boarding at the front. As we shuffled down the aisles, we passed several people who had the reverse problem.
I grabbed a window seat, making my brother sit on the aisle next to me, and I'm looking out at clouds now—over the Atlantic, I presume. As we took off, I realized that we will be leaving the sun behind, flying literally through the night, and seeing it rise again on the other side before we land. For every hour we fly, we will advance almost two hours in sun time. (Which reminds me, I'd better get some sleep.) Indeed, as I write this, I can look back and see the sun floating on the horizon, about to descend below the clouds.
I'm now reading a Lonely Planet Italian phrasebook that I bought my mom for Mother's Day, trying to learn more words. The pre-flight announcements were given in both English and Italian; I listened hard but could usually only pick out isolated words and short phrases: questo volo (this flight), l'uscita (the exit), in casa d'emergencia (in case of emergency), etc. At one point I understood a whole sentence, and was very pleased with myself, but now I've forgotten what it was.
I don't think the reality of this trip has hit me yet. I had a brief flicker of excitement as we were taking off, as the physical ascent of the plane made me realize, "Oh wow, I'm actually going to another country! Another continent! Another hemisphere!" I think I will pull out my iPod later and listen to "Journey to the Island" (from Jurassic Park); that would fit my mood perfectly.
posted by Jason Crawford at 5:14 AM
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