I’ll bet that most of you have been sitting on the edge of your comfy sofa while eating chocolates just waiting to know what happened after my foiled plans to get the heck outta Italy. Her firm grasp on me was a bit unsettling as I kept plotting my escape. Monday morning saw me back at the airport yet again. Genoa to Paris to Miami…then the next day Freeport, Bahamas…then the ship. It seems that the Universe prefers to keep me in an orbiting position of constant motion to Lord knows where!
I met up with another woman who was also married to a sailor and on her way to a Carnival ship. That was interesting in a weird, “did I say that out loud”, sort of way. She is a few years my senior and her husband is a Captain. We of course got talking about ships and our husbands, when I mentioned that last year was particularly fun for me because the Captain onboard let me toot the horn at midnight on the bridge New Year’s Eve…she looked at me in utter shock and said she has never been on the bridge and that it was “against the rules”. “Crap! Did I say that out loud?”
Ah well, such as life I guess. When I got to Paris the line-ups for Customs Control was a two hour wait. I was already exhausted but wondered how I could possibly and most politely, ask the girl behind me for some personal space. What is it with Europeans needing to be within three inches of my heels in a cue? It drives me nuts. I would move slightly ahead and so would she, obviously not taking the hint. The only thing I can gather is that in Italy if you leave an inch of space anywhere, a scooter will cut in front of you or in this case a person. They look at you with sheer shock when you inform them that you were standing in a cue and that the end of it is behind you. “Oh!” they innocently say, “but there was a space in front of you so I didn’t think you were in the cue” ugh, it’s called PERSONAL SPACE people…ever heard of it?
I’m now onboard the ship and have already had to go through yet another Customs Control today. I handed my passport to the officer and told him I was doing back to back cruises. He asked me where I lived, I told him Italy. He asked me if I was a Canadian resident to which I replied no, I am a Canadian citizen who resides in Italy. He then said okay, so you are a Canadian resident then. Hmmm, did I stutter? I repeated to him that I was a Canadian and that I lived in Italy. Change the vocab and lets try again. The officer replied again, so you are a Resident of Canada. Oh, this is going to be tougher than I thought! I whipped out my European I.D. told him my husband is Italian and that I am a Canadian. He said then why don’t you have an Italian passport? Oh boy! Charleston clearly doesn’t see many expats and I wondered for a moment if this guy even knew what the term meant. I explained to him that I didn’t automatically qualify for an Italian passport just because I’m married to an Italian and that there was a requisite time period of marriage that had to be done before acquiring one. Whew! I haven’t even gotten out of the terminal yet and I’m mentally spent.
To think that in five days I get to do this all over again is soooo uplifting! (not). And just in case you thought I had all my marbles, the journey has a part two. I’m flying on Christmas day to BUFFALO! Yep, that’s right, the snow blizzard capitol of America 🙂 I will spend 9 glorious days pigging out on maple donuts and my sister’s turkey stuffing while in Canada. I know I probably sound harsh for ditching my wonderful husband at Christmastime but I have not been home in almost two years and I am having serious maple withdrawals. Luckily, he understands and is very supportive (he has put in his request for maple fudge and or syrup if any family member is reading this, hint, hint).
I don’t know when I will get the chance to blog again…I’m using the email feature this time so no pics, no tags, no categories and no baby. I would like to wish all my readers, stalkers and those who googled ‘maple syrup’ and ended up here instead (sorry) a very MERRY CHRISTMAS, HAPPY HOLIDAYS, BUONE FESTE, etc. Keep safe and warm and drink lots of Baileys (for medicinal purposes only of course)