Early wake up. Lights still twinkling across the lake. Everything is so still. Mountains and water, in their moment of pre-morning peace.
I've done worse: earlier departures, earlier wake-ups. Still, for the little girl, where evenings end late, an early departure can be brutal. I let her sleep until the last minute. I finish packing, do multiple double checks and finally, I nudge her into her clothes, stuff her snuggle animals into her pack and we leave. There was to be a small breakfast, but in the end there was a bit of confusion on where and when and what, so I let it go. We had yesterday's lemon cake and strawberries in the room. Good enough.
The taxi ride to the airport is smooth, fast, no traffic. Less than an hour. Malpensa airport in Milan -- always so crowded, always so rushed, seems actually calm. Lines don't snake. They form, you pass through. You're done.
At the airport she just wants to rest. We eat an inconsequential breakfast, more like a snack, and she stretches out.
Just before it is time to go to the gate, Snowdrop asks:
Gaga, you know how we passed this ice cream shop on the way to the gate?
Oh no. She's not going to ask for ice cream! We had indeed passed a Gelateria in the extremely long string of airport shops just past security, seemingly miles away. We should be boarding soon.
Please?
I look at this earnest little face that has put up with all the inconveniences of travel, with my requests for a photo, and my insistence on airport mask wearing even when most around her are mask free, and who has not always had that ice cream cone handed to her (we did not have a Gelateria within walking distance to our hotel) during this trip.
You really want to walk all the way back?
Yes.
*. * *
The flight takes off for Paris just a little late.
There are no storms at the moment, but it's raining and the skies are saturated with ominous clouds. How can I not feel humbled! All the time we were in Italy, we were spared bad weather even as we are leaving now on this wet day. How good it was to have been spared this for all that we did!
Yes, all that we did. For Snowdrop, that sense of fullness isn't so obvious. Her days feel full even if she stays home and plays with the neighborhood kids. But, I tick off all she learned on our trip: how to climb a mountain. How to swim down the length of the pool and back again. How to paddle a kayak. How tired legs in a hot garden can still get you to where you need to go. How to eat big breakfasts and not mind a long wait for your food to arrive at dinnertime. She also received confirmation for what she already knew (unfortunately): that there isn't an eatery in Italy that wont serve her a plateful of noodles and a big bowl of freshly grated Parmesan at the side. In other countries, she is forced to try new things. In Italy, she begs long and hard for her favorite pasta and usually I shrug my shoulders and think -- eh, she could do worse than this for a meal.
*. * *
The transfer in Paris is smooth. Can you believe it? Smooth!
Five minute wait for passport control, no need to reinspect luggage (and by the.way, in Milan, they no longer require you to take out anything -- not liquids, not tablets, not shoes), just one smooth walk over to our new terminal.
It prompts her to express great love for this airport and I smile at that because I love Paris to pieces, but Paris airport usually requires more than an extra ounce of patience. Today, no patience is required.
And because I am feeling like I want to cap this week with something easy and good, I reach into my bag of saved up miles and ask for an upgrade for the long flight back.
Oh, but madame, this is a problem. The plane is full. The good seats -- they are not next to each other.
I shrug my shoulders and am about to walk away, but this Air France gentleman does not give up easily: let me page the passenger who is occupying the seat your granddaughter could get. Maybe he'll switch.
I smile.
Dont raise your hopes. Passengers these days, they can be so difficult.
This gentleman isn't difficult. But of course I'll switch!
Honestly, so many people are ferociously mean and grumpy and self serving. But so many more are generous and kind and cheerful. At least this has been our experience this whole week.
*. * *
The flight to Detroit is long, but we arrive on time. We have only carryons, so we skip the wait for luggage (international passengers have to clear their luggage at their first port of entry into the US). The girl is tired, but very excited to be seeing her family soon.
Last leg: the flight to Madison.
Her whole family comes to the airport. They go home, I drive to the farmette, deeply satisfied. This was perhaps the trip where we may have had major hiccups and I worried about all of them. Covid could have really messed with us. She may have been forced to skip the first days of school were she to get sick. We may have been stuck at a place with a price that I would not have wanted to pay for extra days. Bad weather would have completely derailed most of my hopes for the week. The airports could have had us waiting for hours, the flights may have been cancelled. But none of this happened. Our challenges were of the best kind: scale a mountain. Swim. Learn to love a different culture.
Big smile as I pull into the farmette driveway.
With so much love...
