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Once at the airport, we made the usual efforts to find the check-in desk and form a queue. They decided to hurry us through, since we had a plane to catch (not an unusual situation at an airport). David's uncle (also called David) handed out luggage labels, which answered Caroline's previous question - "Shouldn't we get luggage labels?". In addition, of course, the airline label all luggage themselves anyway.
We were at the back of the queue, which meant - among other things - that we'd not have any time to get duty free, but that was not a big deal, since we'd not want to carry any more with us at the start of the holiday. As we arrived at the desk, time had progressed further, and despite some sort of hiccup with the computer, we were eventually identified as part of the Cowley party and issued boarding passes.
It is worth mentioning that we were all given our airline tickets at the airport, since that was the first time we'd need them. Since we were returning on a different date to the others, we checked our tickets' return date and everything was fine.
If any of this seems boring, pointless or irrelevant, then WAIT - the end of this story might rely on the early parts, in true "Set it up" and "Pay it off" fashion.
I had been warned about it, but it was still a bit odd; when it is time to go to the plane at Stansted airport, you board a train which takes you there. This we did and soon arrived at the huge metal winged object - and I'm not referring to the Angel of the North (which would not fly even if you put a bomb under it… tempting thought it would be to try).
On board the aeroplane, we all heaved a sigh of relief - we'd made it - the cabin pressure was largely unaffected by our mass exhalation. We were travelling AirOne, which in Italian can be read as "Airone" meaning Crane - the bird (not Dr Frasier or the lifting device).
The flight was largely uneventful - a bit turbulent, but not too bad - mind you I suffer from a bit of turbulence myself, so I'm used to it. During the flight they served a meal which was quite pleasant. Being an Italian airline, the food was of a reasonable quality. I noticed that the airline stewardesses had a clever way of pouring drink on a bouncing plane without spilling any - they held the neck of the bottle and sort of flipped up the butt to pour and, with a deft wrist action, flipped it back to stop. I can only assume that the glass was half-full to ensure we didn't spill much and not because they were tight.
Normally during a flight you'd look out of the window, but the pig-faced, goth-dressed, Italian woman at the window had it shut, so I occupied myself with watching all of my fellow passengers. From the chinese man with a Harrod's bum-bag through to the obnoxious family from London in front, with the daughter who didn't seem to grasp that if she tilted her seat back to get more room, that additional space for her had to come from somewhere - me! Of course the cabin crew are always fun to be with, and we had a trainee - who was obvious from the smarter way she'd dressed, the sort of haughty expression (she thought she was glamorous - we KNEW she was a glorified waitress) and the fact that she'd obviously put on ½ a pound of make up with a trowel, rather than the requisite 1 pound put on by the others, probably using a shovel.
We arrived in Italy refreshed and relaxed - well, actually, knackered and bedraggled, but it was a holiday, so it felt good anyway. A coach was standing by to take us to Crema where the festivities would begin. The rain was warm.
I think that Italy is a country to be viewed in the sunshine. We did not have the best run of weather while out there but I am not at all sympathetic with the pathetic English who moan and moan and moan about the weather. At the end of the day, climatic conditions are what they are. In particular, April is likely to be an unpredictable and wet month. The only thing which is a shame is that the scenery was not at its best. The colours of the buildings are at their best in the sunshine, the rough edges are not visible except under the colours of darkened sky. Unfortunately, we saw the rougher edges as we proceeded from Milan to Crema.
Italian roofers must all be cowboys, since a huge number of out-buildings' roofs are in terrible disarray. In the sunshine, this is probably less of a problem and more of a featurette:
"Come on Fabrizio, sunbathe in the barn, you'll get a tan though the holes in the roof without getting burnt."
Arriving in Crema was welcome - I was exhausted and wanted a rest - and I'd already had some rest. Caroline was even more tired and we both wanted to get to the room.
Written: May 1998
Posted: 30 October 2001
Ashley Frieze