We booked this trip five months ago, and it still feels a little surreal that we are "really doing this." I looked at the clock at 10:15 this morning and could. not. believe that we were leaving our home to venture to the other side of the world. In an hour.
There have been so many times over the last two weeks that I have thought to myself, "What on earth are we thinking?" Don't get me wrong. Five years ago, I would have signed up for this trip without a second thought. The venturing out doesn't scare me. But add in two precious girls who call me "mom," and the anxiety has at times been paralyzing. What if something happens to one of them and we are, at best, 24 hours of travel away? What if something happens to us, and we've left behind two girls who don't get to grow up with mama and daddy? See. It's terrifying to let yourself think about.
But, there's also this tipping point. The realization that it is worth that minuscule likelihood of the catastrophic (and really it's more likely, statistically speaking, for one of those what if scenarios to happen within our mundane) to reap the benefits of exploration-- for both us and our girls. I want them to have a bit of wanderlust. For them to know that the world is so much bigger than Roanoke, Virginia. For them to see that their parents love each other so much they're willing to travel together. Seriously. If you've traveled before, you understand just how much you learn about someone when you add in some stressful transit conditions. It can be prettttty scary to see what someone looks like when they're competing for a cab, trying to track down lost luggage, nearly losing each other in a foreign country. When the girls are older, they will go on their first "big trip" with another and say, "wow, they must have truly loved each other." ;)
And boy, did this trip have plenty of those moments. We gave ourselves a headstart on the Saturday-departing cruise by leaving out of Roanoke on Wednesday. Flights were insane from anywhere I looked, so I finally settled on a crazy flight out of Roanoke. And I mean it. Crazy. We had a total of four flights, and no connection had more than an hour and ten minutes between flights. Read: we are going to have to run for every. single. flight. Oh, and we did. The first connection in Dulles was easy breezy, but after that, it was time to tighten up the laces, because we were making the mad dash. When I booked these crazy flights, I thought-- meh, no big deal. We haven't been to Montreal, we haven't been to Brussels, so if we get stuck in one of those places, it will be a little unplanned day trip, since we would have plenty of time to make it to Venice and to our ship. But, when you know that your flight is right there, and that you could potentially be sitting in an airport for six hours, not traipsing the streets of a new country, that proposition doesn't look as appealing. So, as rushed as it felt, our flight over was quite charmed, in that despite being late on two of the flights' arrival times, we made every connection and arrived in Venice on time. On our flight from Montreal to Brussels, we were literally the last ones on the plane. Last ones. And that was after absolute running through the terminal. I kinda wish I had turned on Map My Run for that connection, because it was surely better than any of my 5k times. ;)
Our luck ran out when we got to Venice, and Sam's luggage apparently did not. As soon as I booked our flights, I knew I would be trying to pack for the eleven days in carry on luggage only. In case you weren't sure that miracles do happen, behold. I present my 100% carry on travel packing.
I actually even had enough room to pack two of Sam's outfits in the pretty likely event that our checked bag did not make the same running effort that we did at those connections. :) Sam didn't really have the option of doing carry on only, since he wears a size 13 shoe (and packed three pairs) and doesn't have the luxury of wearing sundresses everyday. :) He did manage to keep it to a single suitcase, but that one sole piece of luggage containing his entire packing list didn't make it. So, alas, we went to the Lost and Found desk at the airport and filed a report with a nice Italian lady, who was even more annoyed than we were that I couldn't find the luggage tag receipt they gave us in Roanoke, but filled out the report anyway. When she asked for our home address, I really wanted to panic. A we'll-find-it-in-the-next-two-weeks-and-ship-it-to-you timeline was not going to work. I felt especially bad that it was entirely Sam's clothes. A huge line built up behind us in the time we were filling out the report (apparently lots of people coming in from Rome didn't get their luggage), so we finished up and went over to a seating area nearby and repacked the new paperwork we received. And then, of course, I found the luggage tag. Oops. So, I managed to run back up to the window to give a newer, nicer lady our tag, and she was able to pull up the tracking and tell us that it was in Brussels, and would be on the next flight arriving in four hours, and would be delivered to our hotel. Shew! But, in those "oh no.." moments, it is so easy to remember why I chose Sam as my forever travel friend. It was his luggage, his clothes. I couldn't find the luggage tag. Despite the fact that he could have been forced to wear the same three (dirty) outfits on repeat, he was cool as a cucumber.
It felt so strange to be starting a vacation without Harper and Willa. Precious children, know that we will miss you tremendously over the next week and a half! (Except for maybe when we are standing in line for an hour at a missing baggage claim counter. Ha!) We will come back as a stronger couple and better parents, and be ready for more snuggles than you can imagine. See you soon!
Check out the rest of our trip by clicking here.
Check out the rest of our trip by clicking here.
No comments
Post a Comment