A 7.00am train from Santa Maria degli Angeli meant getting up at 5.30am to finish packing and to have a quick bite to eat before walking down to the station. The 4km walk down only took half an hour, as opposed to the 45 minutes it took uphill on the day of arrival!
The train journey back to Rome was as uneventful as that when arriving last Sunday although, because the train was a Eurostar train rather than a Regular service, the cost was now €20, as opposed to the €9.40 that so pleased me on day one. Such is life - and business!
The main station at Rome was teeming with people disgorging themselves from most of the 29 platforms - some seemed to know where they were meant to be going, others looked round them looking rather lost and forlorn; many were on the lookout for the raised umbrella of a tour guide.
I, fortunately, knew where I was heading - from platform 4 where I arrived to platform 25 from where the train to the airport was due to depart - sounds easy enough, but the vastness of the station means that it took the best part of 10 minutes to walk it - quickly!
The Leonardo Express (don't ask) transported me safely to the airport which also proved labrynthine to navigate but, having printed my own Boarding Card before leaving home, I did not have to join the seemingly endless queues at the check-in desks, and could make my way directly to departure security.
Having passed succesfully through all the required hoops, I arrived at the correct gate without about half an hour to spare, and it was whilst I was waiting that I watched a sad tale unfold in front of me.
The previous flight from this gate was heading for Kiev, and was boarding as I arrived, and soon the folk were on their way and the barrier restored. Some few minutes later a young couple laden with luggage arrived, and it became obvious that they were due to be on this flight. The woman approached the attendant at the adjacent desk and was curtly dismissed with a wave of the hand. Not even a kind word or offer of help was made. She tried speaking to various official looking people but either they were unable or unwilling to help.
I felt really sorry for them and they became more desperate as the minutes passed. By the time that they were able to persuade someone to help it was too late, and the flight left without them. I only hoped that their luggage was not on board, and that they could arrange a replacement flight as soon as possible.
My flight was instructive. I discovered that a KitKat Chunky or a Twix bar would cost me £2.00, and I could have a cup of coffee for £2.50. Such is the "benefit" of getting cheap flight tickets.
Although we took off a bit late, a following wind brought us home to Manchester on time and I was able to get to the car park and be on my way with little delay. The traffic on the M6 was typical for a Friday afternoon, but I was still home safely by 4.15pm.
It will take a little while for me process all that I have experienced this past week, but I will try to write something about it over the next, more extended, period of this sabbatical.
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