Volare!

I’m writing this from 39,990 feet about 2 hours out from London, after a very comfortable flight - the upgrade gods smiled upon Sean and I, and it has been a smooth trip so far. Cameron is downstairs in economy but with plenty of legroom right next to the door. We had a race in Singapore to see who would be off the plane first - Sean and I beat her only by a whisker. Maddy isn’t with us this year - she’s opted to stay home to work and look after Fergus. Although despite the fact that she is #1 Human, by the time we got to the airport in Sydney he was apparently not speaking to her. By the time we got to Singapore she’d taken him to the park for a walk, so I am guessing they are now back on speaking terms.

Not the suitcases again!

I also keep feeling like I’ve forgotten something or things are going too smoothly. We had a lovely relaxed Xmas in Brisbane, and I’ve had a couple of quiet weeks at work to prepare to go away. I only started packing in earnest on Saturday afternoon and it was done in a flash, plus we only have 2 suitcases and 2 ski bags. No usual mountain of luggage. No raised eyebrows from our driver (Mario - appropriate!). Nobody was crushed in the car on the way to the airport. Maybe it’s the lack of drama that is making me paranoid.

So much space!

A much smaller pile of bags this year

After an unusually small bout of duty free shopping, we headed up to the lounge - this year we are relegated to the Business lounge (oh dear!) due to the lounge attendants actually checking Cameron’s age for once. Due to her very youthful looks she can still easily pass for under 17 if no-one checks her passport. She’ll probably still be asked for ID when she’s 50. She gets those youthful looks from her mother, obviously. You’re welcome darling. Also totally randomly, we bumped into Janice Dann in the lounge, on her way to Big White for the season. Talk about a small world!

Cheeky mimosa in the lounge

Giving thanks to the upgrade gods

Having said that, our flight is running an hour late, which has tightened up our time to make our connection to Milan to 2 hours. In that time, we have to collect our bags, go through immigration and change terminals. So that means I’m now praying to the baggage and immigration gods for:
1. May immigration be quick
2. May all our bags arrive with us
3. May they come off the carousel VERY quickly
4. May the ski and snowboard bags come out of oversize VERY quickly

Perhaps this is where the drama begins…fingers and toes crossed it doesn’t…

…6 hours later…

My prayers to the baggage and immigration gods worked. Immigration was done in a blink, and our baggage and oversize came through with speed. I was feeling pretty confident we’d make it - we had 15 minutes up our sleeve. We bolted through a maze of lifts, ramps and corridors, grabbed train tickets to the train to Terminal 5. However, I failed to pray to the airport train gods, and we were left cooling our heels on the train platform to go to Terminal 5 for…16 minutes. Uggghhh. We bolted off the train, up yet another lift to the Departures zone, ran for the check in desk only to be told we were 2 minutes late and the flight had closed. So close, but no cigar! Having said that, a fairly quick call to Qantas resulted in us getting on to the next flight which was only 2 1/2 hours later and another quick call to re-schedule our pickup in Milan and we were sorted. After a bit more time perusing duty free shops and some breakfast, we were back on our way to Milan…stuck in row 29 (Siberia)…but happy seeing plenty of snow in the Alps below us.

Not impressed with Siberia or people trying to take photos of me sleeping

Plenty of snow on those Alps

Our arrival in Milan was remarkably smooth…and also hilarious. As we approached immigration to go down the electronic lane, the lady administering the queue looked at Cameron and asked us if she was over…14. Cameron’s face was priceless but quick as a flash looked the woman dead in the eye and replied that she was in fact 23. The woman looked quite shocked, we couldn’t help but smile and wonder if this was some kind of age-underestimation record. I am also quietly now wishing someone would underestimate my age by 9 years…

Our baggage arrived at the carousel pretty much at the same time we did - including our oversize - so we were out of the airport, into the car and on the road to the hotel in no time. As we rolled into the old part of town, the architecture started to become more ornate and the streets narrowed. I caught a glimpse of the Duomo - it looked incredible and I cannot wait to explore it and our hotel is just around the corner - bonus!

After a marathon 34 hours of travel, we arrived at our hotel. Our room is slightly odd as it is on two levels, albeit Cameron is pretty happy about that as she is upstairs and away from our alleged snoring. After our prolonged journey, we were all very VERY happy to have a shower at last.

It was getting on to about 5pm, and so to fight the jet lag battle, we went out for a “walk”, ie. …shopping! Cameron was in need of a winter coat, as she only has her ski jacket, and so was the first to drop some cash on a lovely navy cashmere coat, which she wore out of the store feeling very Milanese. There is some serious style to keep up with here, and I could do some serious financial damage here! We turned up another street and discovered a motherlode of delicatessens, fancy balsamic vinegar shops, wine shops and bars - we went into one called Peck which had my mouth watering as soon as I opened the door, the food was unbelievable.

Miss Milano

Foodie heaven

All of this food browsing was making us very hungry, but we have discovered that restaurants don’t open until 7pm, and it was only just after 6pm. Obviously this means we will have to adapt - obviously we will need to start doing apertivo and later dinner like the Italians! We did a bit more walking and then Sean noticed a tiny restaurant at the end of a laneway called Al Mercante where we decided to have dinner. It turned out to be lovely, but at 7pm we were the only table for quite a while, it wasn’t until 8 that other tables started to fill. We sat down and a bread basket arrived at the table - remembering our Canadian experience last year, Sean and I seized the opportunity to ensure Cameron correctly pronounced “focaccia” before she blew anyone’s ears off with her prior pronunciation efforts. Phew!

Al Mercante for dinner

Looking fresh after 34 hours on the road…

What do you call this again??

Mmmm fresh snapper ravioli

Delicious dinner

Cameron would not allow us to take a selfie in the restaurant so had to do it outside…

The food was fabulous - antipasto, home made bread and pasta (so many carbs) - and of course we had to wash it down with a lovely bottle of Nebbiolo. Too full for dessert we made our way back to the hotel and crashed out, hoping for a full night’s sleep.