Return from the Dead

So, after a months time I have returned. You'll never believe my story of over the past few weeks so I spare you the details and creativity in story telling. I just can't be bothered to explain myself and will simply begin from this weekend. No worries, I'm ok. I have survived the fiercest storm and near death experience. The doctors simply say it's a miracle and they've never seen anything like it.

OK, so I plan a trip to Italy to surprise Mike for his birthday. That stupid curiosity and intuition of his ruins the surprise, but we discover an absolutely free weekend for us to enjoy together while siteseeing southern Italy. It was canceled a week before hand and half of his team plans to disappear to other parts of the country. Things fall more into place and I find this pretty cheap airline to fly direct from Manchester to Naples - the best local for airports. Plus, they also leave first thing in the morning which allows me to maximize my day off in Italy.

Problem - ITALY! Less than 24 hours before my flight leaves, the baggage checkers plan a strike. They schedule it, CONVENIENTLY from 1000-1800. My flight is due to arrive at 1125. Oh yes, I'm safe though because I was planning on only carrying on one bag. Oh, but that would be too easy. You see, the airlines CANCEL flights during this time and reschedule if possible. So, Now my new flight will not arrive until 6pm leaving me less than 48 hours on Italy soil. So, in case you are wondering, I did say they SCHEDULED a strike. Yea, after 6pm everything would be back to normal. Just some time off. I'm not really sure what this proves or how this works, but it happened. Excitingly, my flight arrives 20 minutes early. I am ready to go and even reserved a seat as close to the front as possible to get off in a hurry. The problem, not only did the baggage experience a strike, but also the bus drivers. Oh yes, Mr Bus drivers that drive you from the bottom of the stairs of the plane to the doors of the terminal. The pilot entertains us and tells us we must wait until their strike is over as well-1800 hours. We wake our seats and wait. We asked to walk, but they refused. At exactly 1800, the workers are back in full swing and we deboard the plane to step onto the bus. We load - anxiously. As the last person enters between the doors, the driver starts the bus and closes all the doors. He pulls away, immediately turns left, and comes to a complete stop. He opens the doors and we exit the bus. In total, the bottom of the stairs to the terminal, 20 yards. Adding in the walk from the stairs to bus and bus to terminal - we my friends gained at most 10 yards. Why my friends - ITALY. There's not much else to say besides that.

As for the rest of the weekend, it was wonderful. Enjoyed a BEAUTIFUL sunset Friday night. Had a great Greek meal topped with some of the best Gelato. Relaxed at the beach Saturday afternoon and an engaging date in downtown that evening. As spectacular weekend, well worth the time and money. Saying goodbye is becoming harder each time, but the Truth we are learning is far more valuable.

PS You should check out Brits blog at britmlen.blogspot.com