And so began a delightful, albeit entirely too short week spent in a big, slightly dilapidated villa on a steep slope overlooking Benalmadena, doing all the family bonding stuff one does when 9 very busy adults and one rambunctious 3 year old suddenly find themselves with a week of time to reconnect with the people who truly matter. Songs were sung, wine was drunk, cards were played, and old childhood feuds resurrected, bones picked clean, and put to bed once more. All was done either poolside or over delicious meals we mostly cooked ourselves. Though the beach was only 5kms away, we only made it down there once.
Before we knew it, the week was over, and there we were, hungover, (well, I was, anyway), heartsick, and waving goodbye to the relatives as group by group they made their way to the airport. We were last to go. I called a taxi, apparently completely garbled the request, and 30 minutes later instead called an Uber (huh, my Australian account works in Europe, how wonderful!), which helped me avoid another humiliating reminder of how bad my Spanish skills actually are.
Being hungover at any airport for 5 hours is a bit of a drag, but at least the people watching wasn’t too bad, and they had a Burger King. As we waited at the gate for our flight to Rome, I, being an absolute American slob, stretched out and put my feet up on the seat opposite. A statuesque woman with immaculate hair and an gorgeous leather handbag glared at me from the next aisle, examining me like a gnat on a microscope slide. When I made eye contact, the examination continued, and she made it rather clear a moment later with a delicate huff that I was found quite wanting. I found this rather interesting, and googled “Do Italians stare?” The answer is yes, yes they do. They stare, a lot. We were gonna have to get used to it if we’re gonna be there for the next 10 days. I did put my feet down, if you were wondering.
Upon boarding, we looked around and realized that we had the worst haircuts and worst clothing of anyone aboard. These were Italians, and man, they had style. Seats upright, trays stowed, time to fly to the Eternal City.
Do SvidANIA 