Mama Mia!

So, the first part of our vacation has been slightly more eventful than we would have liked. Everything started out well; after a minor freak out in the car where I convinced myself that my passport had expired, we got to Dublin Airport in plenty of time to satisfy the new and improved security requirements. The boychild nearly melted the xray machine with the stench emanating from his shoes (who knew that a nine year old could smell that bad?) so we were a little famous before we left - greaaat! Found our gate ten minutes before the first boarding call, which afforded hubby the opportunity to drink a lil liquid courage. Apparently, there's nothing like a breakfast pint of Guinness.

Our flight to Rome was uneventful, unless you count that they served us what appeared to be headcheese for lunch. A taxi driver tried to rip us off for the fare from the airport which prompted hubby to make a small scene in the closet that passed for a lobby at our hotel. I was very proud of him; there was a time not so long ago when he would have just paid the bastard. We found our room and freshened up a little (read: the kids discovered the bidet.) By the way, why is it that in a country were everyone is obsessed with washing their ass, the public toilets smell nearly as bad as boychild's shoes? We then headed off in search of a nice dinner.

The hotel was about a block from the beach. Yeah, the one on the Mediterranean Sea. The kids dipped their toes in and then we went to find the restaurant that the desk jockey at the hotel recommended. Not only did we find said restaurant, we found an English speaking waiter who was eager to help us sample as many varieties of authentic Italian pizza as four humans can consume in one sitting as well as help us choose a wine to suit. Niiiiiiiiice. The only glitch was that the restaurant didn't open for another hour or so. It was right around this time that the bar on the beach started calling for me. It said something about needing me to drink a big, big beer and so being the socially responsible person that I am, I answered the call. I know, I know, I give til it hurts. It hurt so good that after the kids finished their hand made ice cream we went back to the bar and watched beach soccer played by Frodo and the boys. At least I think they were hobbits; I got a good look at their feet... yeah, definitely hobbitses.

Anyway, we had a decent night's sleep followed by a much cheaper trip to the airport in the hotel's shuttle service and we were off. Other than taking off about forty minutes late, the flight was fine. The food was not headcheese, much to our relief. After the lunch, we drugged ourselves and the children with anti-nausea meds and had a nice long nap. We all awoke in time for the panzerotti & ice cream sandwich (cruel imitation really) dinner and then it was nearly time to land.

We had gained about 15 minutes on our flight so when the captain came on to say that we didn't have ground clearance to land and we'd have to circle for about ten minutes we weren't alarmed. Some 80 minutes later, we landed in a rather spectacular thunderstorm; so when the captain announced that the ground crew were not currently working due to the weather, were weren't alarmed.

At that point, the woman sitting beside hubby rang her son to say that she'd be delayed and he should wait to hear from her again before coming to pick her up. The son was watching CNN and explained to her that the plane that landed two minutes before us had slid off the runway with some 300 people on board. At that point, we were officially alarmed.

As if on cue, a huge black cloud of smoke rose. We sat horrified as we watched what we thought were hundreds of people burn. Well, all of us but the princess who stood in the front of our section complaining vociferously that due to the length of our flight, we should be made priority and allowed to disembark immediately. How she survived the crash is something of a mystery to me.

When we finally did get off the plane and into the luggage collection area, the staff there was still sticking to the "ground crew won't work in bad weather" story, so we got no news from them. It wasn't until we cleared customs and met our friend that we learned that everyone on the Air France plane had survived. What a fabulous piece of news!

And thus began our homecoming adventure...