It's been a long strange trip...

The baggage death march began at precisely 5 p.m. last Wednesday. After having crammed, stuffed and shoved all of my worldly belongings into two CCM hockey bags, one bike bag and one golf travel bag, the adventure could now begin. Dawn broke early the next morning but I didn't care because I was still asleep on the collection of pillows that I had been bunking on for the past week. When I finally awoke I began preparing to leave the house for a noon departure for the airport. After topping off my caffeine stores and loading my grandpa's family truckster, I picked up my brother and headed to KCI.

I approached the counter at American Airlines with all of my belongings and some trepidation. I had planned for about 300 smackers worth of excess baggage fees and I wasn't far off the mark. (350 to be exact.) What I hadn't planned for was rearranging everything on the fly. You see, AA has a 30kg limit per bag and mine were almost twice that. So I had to purchase another bag, go off to the side and place 15kg from each bag into the third bag. Once that was done, I was on my way to Chicago, albeit with a much lighter wallet.

KMCI to KORD was uneventful. Chatted with a fellow who was returning from a business trip and getting married in the fall. I didn't have to wait long before boarding the 767 bound for Brussels, Belgium. I scored big on this flight, having a whole row to myself in the back with an Air Port between the seats where I could plug my computer in. So I stretched out and watched movies the whole way there.

No good deed goes unrewarded, of course. And since I had such great accomodations on the way there, I paid for it in spades upon arrival in Brussels (which must be the world's biggest airport). Since we had to wait in line for almost an hour before taking off in Chicago, I missed my connection to Bologna. So, the nice folks at AA already had me booked on a Lufthansa (CRJ-200 for all you plane geeks out there) small jet to Munich in three hours' time. From there it was on a bus to the next terminal to catch a Dolomiti Airlines ATR-72 to Bologna. Man, the Euros must have some serious cash, now. Both Brussels and Munich were enormous, aluminum and glass, spit-shined monuments to modern technology. Polished floors, glass elevators, people movers, internet cafes and the like. But watch out for the flight attendants on Lufthansa. The two ladies looked like they could have you in a headlock in no time flat if you lipped off.

My luggage was supposedly checked through to BLQ, so I caught a few winks over the Alps and awoke for our descent into Guglielmo Marconi (yeah the guy who invented radio is from Bologna) Airport. I rode the bus to the terminal and the luggage was already coming out. This was the first time that I spied any security since my trip had begun--two dudes in cammo with machine guns patrolled an almost empty airport. All of my luggage was there except my beloved bike. So I piled everything I owned on to a carellino and weaved to-and-fro to the lost luggage counter to make a denuncia. The guy was very nice and typed my coordinates into the computer and told me they would deliver the bike to my house that evening. (Long story short, they had apparently pulled the bike out of line in Brussels because they spotted some CO2 cartridges that I use to fix flat tires that I had stupidly left in there and our intrepid department of Homeland Insecurity had missed. So they confiscated the 5 dollars-worth of CO2 which in turn made my bike miss its flight. They left a nice big chip in my paint job as a nice souvenir.)

Anyhoo. Stefania and her dad were waiting with open arms and two cars. So we loaded up and headed out to her parents' house in Crespellano, a suburb of Bologna. We proceded to unpack some things. Then I showered up and got ready for an awesome bad-ass meal of polpette con piselli (meatballs with peas in a nice sauce.) Mind you, these just aren't some rolled up balls of ground beef but rolled in with bread crumbs and ricotta cheese and other spices--all hand made, of course. This was washed down with some chilled, sparkling red wine from a local farmer's coop. Yeah, I know it's a tough gig, but someone's gotta do it. (Shut up Dave, and keep on eatin' your Prego sauce out of the jar, but I'm having some of mamma's home cookin'.)

After dinner, we loaded up the Nissan Micra and headed for our appartment in Crevalcore, whcih is about twenty minutes away. The cats were waiting and were glad to see me. They are of course shreding every chair in the place, but then that's what indoor cats do and they should be glad that we didn't move to Wisconsin.

The next day dawned gray and rainy and we went to the Coop grocery store down the street and loaded up on Mortadella (baloney) and pasta and dropped about 50 euros right off the bat. Didn't do much on Saturday, just watched some movies and went to bed.

On Sunday, we went to Crespellano, where again I had to force myself to eat some hand-made tortellone stuffed with ricotta cheese followed by pork cutlets, bread and salad. Again washed down with some white sparkling wine, this time. Are you noticing a theme here? Lorenza, Stefania's sister, her husband and three kids were there and we had a fine time taking them down the street where an old farmhouse is tucked among the new houses to visit the chickens.
Later we drove into downtown Bologna to go to the Fiera (convention center) where Roberta, Stefania's best friend was working the international book fair. From there we headed out for pizza where they know this crazy waiter who's from Naples and is a real character. It's a nice little joint with fluorescent lights and a wood-fired oven. Costs 5 euros for a pizza the size of a large plate. I had caught a cold in the meantime and so we decided to call it a night and went to sleep at our auxillary residence in Crespellano.

Today is Monday. I got up and headed into Bologna to go meet my new boss and get trained for my first class this afternoon. Stefania's dad dropped me off and I will have to take the Corriera to Crevalcore this evening.

That's all for now. It's a beautiful crisp, clear day in Bologna and I'm looking out the window at the church of San Luca, perched on a hill overlooking the city. My cold is better and I'm getting ready for my first class.

Ciao for now. Un bacione a tutti.