Our long awaited vacation is finally here.  It’s our last planned trip to Italy where my  boarding pass still bears my father’s last name.  This is the last time I will be referred to by servers as Signorina.  The next time Mike and I come back to Italy, we will be Mr. and Mrs. Pontoriero.  Then I shall be addressed as Signora.  I am NOT ready for Signora. 

The trip to Fiumicino went quickly.  We took a late night flight from Newark to Rome.  Then we had to connect to Lamezia where Mike’s father was fetching us.  I woke up on the plane just before the flight attendants served the dependable croissant with butter breakfast while flying over the alps. 

As we disembarked and started walking through the terminal, I was filled with excitement. 

The Passport Control official barely looked at me or my passport.   He was working on his computer like it was a matter of life and death.  Without a stamp on my passport, I looked behind me only to see that the matter of life and death was Tetris!  

It’s beginning to feel a lot like Italy!

The big Samsung billboards with the Squadra Azzurra and scenes from their 2006 World Cup victory still dominate the walls of Fiumicino.  I reckon they’ll be up there until the Azzurri boys win another World Cup, whether it takes another 24 years or not.   And of course the Dolce & Gabbana and Ferragamo adverts aren’t missing either.  The cleverly named duty free shop Good Buy Roma, seemingly present in every corner while selling the same goods, is still present… in every corner.   And selling… the same goods.   Walking further, the smell of Italy fills the air as we walk past a few espresso bars, a gelateria, and a pasticceria with our beloved freshly-baked cornetti (a better version of the French croissant) filled with chocolate or marmellata (usually apricot or peach marmalade).   Close to our gate is a ‘fast-food’ type of eatery, however instead of burgers and greasy firies, they offer sandwiches with prosciutto and arugula, or fresh mozzarella and tomatoes.   While feasting on the smells and the sight of all that was good around me, I thought to myself,  Ciao Italia!  We meet again.

Being in this familiar airport gave me joy.  Having gone through Fiumicino numerous times in the past for business and leisure trips,  I know what to expect and it’s quite reassuring that not much changes.  This sense of comfort in a way eased my worries about meeting Mike’s relatives the second time around.  Worries like: “Will I be able to communicate well, even though I haven’t practiced my Italian in a while?”  “Will I fit in?”   “Will they find me too different, since I am not Italian?”

I know it’s silly that I let my nerves get to me, since I’d already been to his hometown in southern Italy and met most of his relatives two years ago.  It went amazingly well and  I loved it!  But as time passes, one forgets what to expect, the familiarity between acquaintances fades and anxiety over the unknown builds all over again.   

Still in familiar Fiumicino, we were getting hungry, and everywhere we turned, there was food!  But first, we wanted to check if we could get on an earlier flight to Lamezia.  The domestic terminal was bustling since it’s the beginning of the August holidays in Italy and everyone is travelling.  We fell in line at the Alitalia counter to inquire about getting on the next Lamezia flight.  There were three counters open, and two people ahead of us.  Three different people on separate occasions cut in, pretending to ask a ‘quick’ question at first, but somehow held up the attendants indefinitely.   Funny that nobody was incensed by this, except of course the Americans (or non-Europeans) who were waiting for their turn.  That saying “When in Rome, do as the Romans do” came to mind.  But we couldn’t quite do what the Romans did!  We patiently waited.  And when we finally had our turn forty minutes later, the earlier Lamezia flight was too full and about to leave.  At least we tried.  And I thought, Really, not much changes around here!  Forming lines is still optional.  Moving lines are still slow.

We had over three hours to kill and we were starving.   We snagged a spot in Frescobaldi.  It’s a wine, salami and cheese bar in the terminal.  We got 2 glasses of red Tuscan wines, and ordered a plate of carpaccio (wafer thin-sliced raw beef, with arugula, parmiggiano, and capers).  It was divine, considering we hadn’t stepped out of the airport yet.  Then we decided to try Tavola Calda for lunch, a restaurant in the airport that had reasonably priced meals.  We found the food to be less than mediocre, but it sustained us anyway.

Afterward, Mike had his shot of espresso at Gran Cafe Illy, and I tried crema illy for the first time.  It’s reminiscent of a frozen shot of espresso, that has a texture of an in-between shake and ice cream.  I loved it so much that  I’m adding this to my list of favorite things.

With full bellies and powered by potent coffee, we eagerly waited to board our flight.  I eagerly anticipated the next 14 days of our vacation and looked forward to falling in love with this beautiful country as I did during my previous visits.

As we climbed the aircraft’s stairs, I took a breath of some Italian fresh air — well, as fresh as tarmac air gets.  I set my silly worries aside and greeted Italia with a happy Ciao!  And Calabria, here we come!

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