It’s true what they say, you can’t go home again. What they don’t tell you is that it’s because there’s entirely too much red tape.
Our journey from Italy to Texas began entirely too early in the morning, waking up at 3 AM. That’s 0300. Honestly, I had forgotten that 3:00 had an AM version. So there we were, stumbling around with not nearly enough cappuccino in our systems, dragging our things to the front of the hotel to get on the bus. Nine checked suitcases, four carry-on suitcases, three cats, four people (and a partridge in a pear tree). The bus left at 4:00, and that’s where the smooth ride stopped.
We arrived at the airport at 5:00, right on schedule, and stood in line about 15 minutes waiting to check in. So far, no problem. We were traveling with three cats, and planned to carry on two of them and have one of them stowed under the plane. SSG OPSEC had made many (MANY) phone calls to The Airline in the weeks prior to travel to make sure this would be ok. Everything is ready, they told us. We are good to go. Awesome.
But wait. This is Italy. And the Army. Therefore, it must be complicated. We get to the front of the line and learn that Scarpa, our Checked Luggage kitty, is not confirmed after all. Despite all the phone calls, all the emails, all the checks, she is not cleared to fly under the plane. Turns out The Airline changed the rules on pets five days ago and didn’t bother to tell anyone. The lady at the counter offers to call The Airline, but their desk doesn’t open until 7:00. Our flight leaves at 6:45. After a great deal of fussing and fuming we agree to put myself, Princess, all the checked luggage, and two cats on the first flight. SSG OPSEC and Little Man will follow with the third cat later. We barely make our flight.
But wait. This is Italy. And the Army. Therefore, it must be complicated. We get to the front of the line and learn that Scarpa, our Checked Luggage kitty, is not confirmed after all. Despite all the phone calls, all the emails, all the checks, she is not cleared to fly under the plane. Turns out The Airline changed the rules on pets five days ago and didn’t bother to tell anyone. The lady at the counter offers to call The Airline, but their desk doesn’t open until 7:00. Our flight leaves at 6:45. After a great deal of fussing and fuming we agree to put myself, Princess, all the checked luggage, and two cats on the first flight. SSG OPSEC and Little Man will follow with the third cat later. We barely make our flight.
First stop is Amsterdam, where we stand in line FOREVER to go through customs. This can’t be easy either. The man asks me, “How long have you been here?” Me: “In Amsterdam? About an hour and a half. In Europe? Nearly seven years.” Customs man:
“Do you have your residency document?” Me: “No, they took it away when we left. They wouldn’t let me keep it.” Customs man: “Oh really?” (He says this in a tone of voice that says “I completely do not believe you.”) Me: “Yes, they took it away when we left.” Finally, he is happy to see a copy of SSG OPSEC’s orders and the cats’ passports. Whew. However, we still have to get scanned. We take the cats out of their backpack carriers, tote them through the metal detector, then have to go back through the scanners ourselves, standing with feet apart and arms up while the walls of the scanning cylinder woosh around us. (I love air travel.)
“Do you have your residency document?” Me: “No, they took it away when we left. They wouldn’t let me keep it.” Customs man: “Oh really?” (He says this in a tone of voice that says “I completely do not believe you.”) Me: “Yes, they took it away when we left.” Finally, he is happy to see a copy of SSG OPSEC’s orders and the cats’ passports. Whew. However, we still have to get scanned. We take the cats out of their backpack carriers, tote them through the metal detector, then have to go back through the scanners ourselves, standing with feet apart and arms up while the walls of the scanning cylinder woosh around us. (I love air travel.)
Second stop, after a long but blessedly uneventful flight, is Minneapolis. We have to retrieve all nine checked bags and then check them again. Too bad there is no video of this, because we could have gotten a million hits on YouTube. Thankfully we were flying with a friend who helped us out. It would have been even funnier if it was just me and the princess. Then we go through immigration. Again. Customs man: “What is the value of things you purchased while in Italy?” Me: “We lived there for seven years. Half of everything I own was bought there.” Customs man: “Ok, well, is there anything in your baggage that was bought new, like a gift, and is unused?” Me: “Nope.” Customs man: “This says you were traveling with four people. Where is your husband?” Me: (giggling from not enough sleep or coffee) “Well, I don’t know exactly. See, wegottotheairportinVenice and they told us wehadtoomanycats and so theysplitusup and puthimonanotherflight but weleftfirst and Idon’tknowwhatflighthegoton; he could be anywhere.” Customs man has the decency to laugh, stamp my passport, and let the crazy Army wife into her home country.
After all this craziness, I am able to call The Airline to try to track down SSG OPSEC and Little Man. Me: “We got separated in Venice because wehadtoomanycats and I just want to know what flight he’s on and where he is.” Airline lady: “What is his confirmation number?” Me: “I have no idea. All I have is my boarding pass.” Airline lady: “The confirmation number should be on the boarding pass.” Me: “Um...all I see is our flight numbers, our seat numbers, and times. No confirmation numbers.” Airline lady: “Well, tell me the number of you first original flight.” I do this. She tells me that he is on a flight from Paris to Atlanta. I am very, very glad that they sent all the checked bags with me, and that the cat is a carry-on, because they always lose our luggage in Paris and there’s no telling where she would have turned up.
Finally, after about 20 hours of travel, four airports in three countries and two continents, Princess and I land in Austin. Huzzah! SSG OPSEC and Little Man arrive only 3 hours later.
We have Chick Fil A for dinner. I am a happy camper. Bed, anyone?
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