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| View from our hotel room in Atehns |
We had scheduled a shuttle to take us from our home in Orange County to LAX. From LAX, we would fly to Athens on Saturday, going through Rome and arriving on Sunday, then spend the night in Athens and fly to Crete the next day. Our shuttle arrived at about 11:30 to get us to LAX for our 4:15 flight. But that's how these shuttles are. They pick lots of people along the way and so it does add to the length of the trip. And of course, in LA, you can never count on traffic. It could be 45 minutes to LAX or it could be 3 hours. Anyhow, after he picked us up, he only had one more stop. We drove to Anaheim and picked up a family of three, a young couple and their baby. That family had so much luggage - three or four suitcases, boxes, lots of baby paraphernalia. We assumed they were taking a long trip overseas, but when we asked them where they were headed, they told us they were heading to Oakland, going to UC Berkeley for the woman's brothers graduation. Okay, so riddle me this - why so much luggage? And why fly out of LAX, when you're going to Oakland?? Wouldn't it be easier to fly out of Orange County? The drive to the airport was fairly uneventful, but not because the driver was trying to keep it that way. Quite the opposite. It was a heart stopping ride on the LA freeways and especially around LAX with the shuttle driver. Talk about your LA driver! Weaving in and out of traffic. Not afraid to cut off a city bus. I seriously needed a drink when we got to the airport. And partly because of the aggressive driving, we had plenty of time for drinks at LAX. In fact we had time for a rather lovely lunch. Flying out of the Tom Bradley International Terminal, that's the way travel should be. Once you get through the long security lines, that is. The terminal itself is pretty spectacular. Very LA. Fancy restaurants, beautiful people, fabulous digital billboards that you can literally watch all day, and the shopping! Between your Apple stores and your duty free, it has it all, at least for the 1%. I literally saw a bottle of whiskey that cost $46,000 in duty free in LAX.
The only problem with our flight out of LAX is that it was delayed by an hour. Given that we had a pretty tight connection in Rome to get to Athens, this was a little worrisome. But we settled in for the 12 hours and just didn't think about it. As it happens, there was a young American woman sitting next to us named Chrissy catching the same flight. So the three of us figured we'd hoof it to the gate together and it'd work.
Finally, we landed, my first time in the Rome airport. So the plane landed on the runway, not next to gate, and we realized we had the dreaded bus ride to the arrival terminal from the runway. We've done this in London before, and it has cost us a connection, leading us to spend the night In Heathrow, so I wasn't thrilled when I saw this was how it was starting out. Then Alitalia did not exactly blow us away with their efficiency and planning. The plane was a large Airbus. I think they know how many passengers it holds. So why was there only one bus waiting for us? So we hung out on the runway for 10 or 15 minutes and finally a bus arrives. Thankfully, it was a short ride to the arrivals gate, where we were directed to the place nobody wants to go - passport control.
I am not sure if I can adequately describe the bedlam that is passport control in Rome. However, I'll start by noting that there are two very different experiences - passport control with an EU passport, and everyone else. The EU passport experience is so far superior - they actually have the appropriate number of immigration officers and they even have automated terminals where you can scan your passport. You literally sail right through. The non-EU experience is vastly different. It appears there are about four officials for a queue of thousands. No, not queue, a crush of thousands. Going into that crush resembled going into a crazy mob during the French Revolution. Now most people know I actually carry an EU passport, so the easy experience awaited me. However, Gordon does not. But I thought, let me ask if I can bring my spouse through with me. The less than helpful Alitalia staff member asked if we had proof that we are married. Given that we have different last names and that I don't carry our marriage certificate with us, I sadly could not prove our spousal relationship beyond a reasonable doubt. My options, Alitalia tells me, are to go with him or wait on the other side for him. So off to the great unwashed non-EU masses for us. The really frustrating thing is that I will probably become a US citizen next month, so this was my last chance to take advantage of the EU fast pass, a time when it would have made a huge difference and I couldn't do it!!
The experience in the immigration line lasted over an hour. An agonizing hour of pushing, shoving, people being angry. Oh, and did I mention that the air conditioning was not working, due to a recent fire? We finally got up to the front, and after all that, the immigration officer did not even look at our passports!!! By now, it was 10 minutes past the time our flight to Athens was due to leave. However, I figured with Alitalia's demonstrated lack of efficiency, we had a 50-50 chance to make it. We had become separated from Chrissy, so Gordon and I continued on, found ourselves in baggage claim, which we thankfully didn't need to deal with, and headed from terminal 3 where we came in, to terminal 1 where our flight was scheduled to leave from gate B04. This involved going through security again. And did I mention that we bought something in duty free? Not the aforementioned $46,000 bottle of whiskey, but a nice sipping brandy for our hosts. We got into terminal 3, noticed on the board that our flight said still boarding, although moved to gate B28, and headed for security. Let me just say that security in European airports is different to American airports. It's not exactly pre-9/11, but it's a whole lot easier. No shoe removal, for example. And the duty free, well once the security guy determined that it was in a sealed bag with a receipt, we were golden. So we got through security and sprinted to our gate, now all the way at the other end of a very crowded terminal. I ran like Frank Gore splitting the backfield of the Oakland Raiders, cutting left and right to avoid my fellow travelers. And finally, we saw it - gate B28. With the dreaded bus to the plane! But Alitalia finally came through and let us on the bus! And Chrisssy was there! yay! We all made our flight, which was remarkably comfortable. We got to Athens airport, which is way more relaxed than Rome. And our luggage was even there. So a little late, but we made it.
We left the airport and caught a taxi to our hotel. The taxi driver was very friendly, but kept saying. Why are you staying there. It's not near Athens. It's not near the airport. It's nice, but remote. We looked at the booking form - we had just picked something from hotels.com- and we picked it because it said 5km from the airport. Well, the taxi driver said, yes, as the crow flies, so to speak, it's 5Km, but with the windy roads it's a 30 minute drive. Which it definitely was. So we were regretting choosing it until we actually arrived. Yes, it's remote, but the location is spectacular, and the hotel itself is a lovely resort. Not over the top opulent, but very nice. We walked into the lobby and heard a lively band singing abba songs in the bar to a large raucous crowd. What could be better - an Abba cover band in Greece. We got settled into our room, small but lovely and with a balcony with a glorious view. Then we headed down to the restaurant where they serve a buffet - all you can eat and drink for 20 euros. A barrel of wine we could pour carafes from. And magnificent food. Heavy on the meat. Even salads were described as lamb salad, pork salad. A half a pig on the carving table. Not a place for vegetarians. Or for diets. We had a magnificent meal and lots of wine. It may be a little off the beaten path, but the Mare Nostrum Hotel Thalasso is awesome. The picture above is the view from our balcony.
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