Italy Here We Come - Part 1: Traveling from Algiers to Aviano

 

Once a year there is a Region Conference held at a location selected by the Command for all Detachment Commanders within that Region to attend. This conference is mandatory for the Marines. Therefore, their tickets are paid in full and they get per-diem during the entire time. Spouses and family members are not required to attend, but highly encouraged to join their Marines. This is the only time spouses will be able interact with one another in person. It’s a wonderful opportunity that is highly anticipated throughout the year.

Approximately one month ago information was released that this year’s conference for our region was going to be held in Aviano, Italy from June 19^th – June 24^th. We didn’t even think about whether or not I was going to attend. It was certain that I would go along with Douglas. I was vastly excited for the opportunity to experience Italy.

During my teenage years, I always dreamed of traveling to Europe. Although at that time it felt like a fantasy that would never come true. While growing up in the Bronx, New York it seemed impossible for me to ever venture out of the country. Each year my family and I took summer vacations to both Virginia and South Carolina. The bulk of my mother’s family lived in various parts of Virginia, such as Richmond, Chesapeake, Hampton, and a small country area called Freeman. Nearly all of my dad’s family lived in Charleston, SC. As well, biennially we attended our family reunions held in various states, mainly on the East Coast. We drove to places such as Ohio, Pennsylvania, Detroit, New Jersey, D.C., Maryland, Florida, Georgia, and even flew to California. Most of my friends, at the time, either rarely traveled outside of New York City, or at most visited other states in the U.S. just like me. Hence, there was no normalcy with those surrounding me to take trips or vacations overseas. It was altogether too expensive to even contemplate travelling out of the country. I became quite comfortable and happy with the travel we did get to do within the U.S.  I knew then that I was very fortunate.  

There is one country in Europe that I have always wanted to see. Although it’s not Italy, “The Boot” is a place that’s absolutely beautiful to see. I, on the other hand, have a great desire to visit Spain. Maybe while growing up in the Bronx around so many Puerto Ricans and Dominicans, they rubbed off on me. I was particularly in love with Spanish food. I use to think that nothing would be better than going to Spain and experiencing its authenticity.

Douglas didn’t purchase my ticket immediately. Often a conference will get cancelled or rescheduled for a later date or different location. We decided to wait until the conference was approved by the Command. Once we received the green light that Douglas could purchase his ticket, we jumped online to get my ticket on the same flight. Wisely, my husband was careful to purchase travel insurance for me, in the event any plans did change at the last minute. Transactions were now complete. Time couldn’t have moved any slower as we waited for the 19^th to arrive.

A few days before the conference, the CO (Commanding Officer) sent out a few emails regarding the schedule of events. It was clear the guys would work the majority of this trip, but they did manage to schedule time for dining events with the families. Besides sightseeing through Italy, I was looking forward to interacting with other military spouses who could relate to the feelings and experiences I was having on this program. As well, I was in desperate need of some girl’s time.

One of the emails the CO sent out said the weather was currently rainy and cold. However, the temperature during our time there would be warm with a chance of showers toward the end of the week. I didn’t want to only pack clothing for hot temperatures just in case it was cool some days. I decided to pack what I would like to call “back-up outfits.” I had about two outfits per day. It seemed like a lot, but I like to give myself options. I made sure to leave enough room for us to bring back souvenirs and food. Many of the American staff members in the embassy buy several products in Europe that are not sold in Algiers. I missed the taste of cheddar cheese and turkey bacon amongst other things. Douglas planned to restock his supply of pork bacon and sausage. Although he did say that eventually he will stop eating pork products. That was a surprise to hear. We both have become a lot more health conscious over the past couple of years.

The night we were supposed to leave, Douglas and I stayed up very late packing and gathering all of our important papers for the trip - passports, U.S. dollars, credit cards, military orders, etc. Thinking ahead, I called my credit card company to let them know I would be traveling to Italy. They asked me specifically which cities I would be in and for how long. They made the appropriate notes on my account and told me to have a great time. I don’t know what made me decide to do that, but it was a good thing I did.

Our flight was scheduled to leave at 4:40 a.m. There was no point in going to bed since we had to wake up very early to meet the driver taking us to the airport. Plus, I was too excited to sleep anyway.

Tuesday, June 19^th we left our home at 2:30 a.m. for Italy. Instead of the driver picking us up in front of our residence, we had to walk to the main entrance of the embassy since the gate to our home was inaccessible at the time. Unfortunately we discovered this piece of information fifteen minutes after the car was supposed to pick us up. First Lesson Learned: Plan ahead to incorporate enough time to tote luggage on a short walk, down several steps to the front of the embassy when leaving in the middle of the night. Once we got to the bottom of the hill, the car was there waiting. The driver opened the trunk for us to lay down our luggage, except the trunk was half-way full already, and we had some pretty large suitcases. The driver ran into the office to exchange keys for a larger vehicle which had much more trunk space. Second Lesson Learned: Make sure to tell pick-up driver to bring large vehicle if traveling with a lot of bulky luggage. We got everything in there without a problem. Thirty minutes later, we were off to the airport.

The streets were surprisingly barren. I’m accustomed to sitting in traffic with several vehicles on the road, fighting to rudely get in front of one another. A normal ride to the airport takes approximately forty to forty-five minutes. That morning it only took us twenty-five to thirty minutes. The streets resembled that of a quieter and calmer country. I could count on one hand the number of cars that passed us, and on my other hand I could count the number of people roaming the roads at such a late hour. It was nice to experience driving in Algiers without the ordinary hustle and bustle that occurs daily.

Once we arrived to the airport, we unloaded our four bags and made our way to the entrance. Our luggage had to be scanned before we were even allowed to enter the airport. That doesn’t usually take place in the states. Anyone can walk inside most U.S.  airports, as there is no security at the front door. We proceeded to the check-in counter for Alitalia Airlines. We flew with them coming from the U.S. to Algeria and had no problems. Gladly, check-in went well. We had no issues with our luggage or seat selection. Alitalia Airlines does not allow you to select your seat during the time of purchase. You must call within seventy-two hours of your flight’s departure and choose your seats with a phone attendant. I called a couple days prior to ensure that Douglas and I sat together.

Douglas and I trekked up the escalator to reach another check point. We stopped at a counter to fill out a mandatory customs identification card. I don’t know if that is the actual name of the paper, but it’s given to customs nonetheless.  This small card causes a long delay for us whenever entering or exiting the airport. To our misfortune it’s written in French. There lies the problem. During our first time using the cards, the security officers appeared quite frustrated with us as we approached their counter with blank lines. We tried asking them what it said, but we might as well have been asking a deaf person. They couldn’t understand us at all. And telling us the meaning of a French word, while speaking French, is far from helpful.

Card looks simple....if you know what you're reading!

It wasn’t until recently we realized that most of the words on the card could be found on our passport. Therefore, all we needed to do was match them to the correct line. However, they require specific answers. In addition, only one or two lines can be crossed out. Otherwise you have to fill out a brand new card. Since we’ve been through this a couple times, we thought we finally filled out our cards correctly. However, once we got to the counter the security officer made it clear that our information was very much incorrect. The gentleman drew a large “X” across our cards and began filling out a new one. The biggest misunderstanding was the line that required me to list my profession. I told him I was unemployed. Apparently that answer was not sufficient. The man continued to repeat himself asking, “What do you do?” I smiled with my eyebrow lifted to repeat myself once more, and replied, “I am unemployed.” I could have chosen to list all the work I do that I don't get paid for, but I chose to leave that out. I didn’t want to cause greater confusion. The gentleman still seemed baffled, as if no one in Algiers was unemployed. I then tried to tell him that I’m attached to the Embassy with my husband. That led him to saying, “Oh, you are his wife. Yes?” I happily replied, “Yes, yes, I am his wife.” He said, “Ok then,” with a sigh of relief. On the line next to “Profession,” he wrote, “Wife of Diplomat.” I was baffled. I didn’t know being my husband’s wife was a profession. I wondered if adding this title to my resume would be acceptable to a hiring manager. I guess only if I’m applying for a job in Algiers. I didn’t waste much more time thinking about it; as long as it got me through customs. After about ten minutes, which is quite long compared to the typical two minutes that it takes everyone else to get through the counter, we finally got our card stamped and were allowed to pass through.

After the minor headache in dealing with customs, we had to go through the usual airport security check point to scan our carry-on luggage. I typically do not get stopped. At the most, the security officer request to pat down my head if I’m either wearing a scarf or if I’m sporting my afro. You never know what can be snuck into a thick mane of hair. Oppositely, Douglas almost always gets stopped.  He refuses to remove his belt ahead of time because he deems it to be unnecessary. One would think that when you go through the metal detector with a belt on and an alarm rings every time, then maybe you should start removing the belt in advance. Conveniently, for him only, he waits until the alarm goes off and for a security officer to ask him the same question every time, “Sir, do you have a belt on or anything in your pockets?” And he always has the same response, “Yes, I have a belt on and there are things in my pockets.” Really guy! I now act like I don’t know him when this occurs because this routine doesn’t make any sense.

Once we made it through that check point we followed the arrow that led to our gate. You wouldn’t believe it, but there was yet another check point. Douglas and I pulled out our passports and tickets to show security. Then to top it off, no more than a few steps pass that point was another desk with one man there for us to show him the same passport that the previous officer viewed. This was every bit of ridiculous! We ended up with one hour to spare before our flight departed. It was plenty of time to get a beverage or snack from the only open restaurant at that hour. As we waited in line to pay both of us realized that we didn’t have any Dinar (Algerian currency) on us. Before we left, we emptied our pockets of all Dinar. Thankfully the vendor we were at took credit cards. Douglas purchased his two drinks and we went to sit down. Lesson Three: When traveling, bring currency for your current country of residence.

Just when we thought there was plenty of time to relax before boarding, we approached our gate to find everyone in a long line. We found ourselves to be nearly the last people to arrive. It was still an hour out from the take-off time. Normally flights in the U.S. do not board that early. I was shocked to see such an early boarding time, but really I shouldn’t have been. After going through about five check points I knew anything was game. The line moved extremely slowly. We showed the attendant our ticket and passport and she waved us through. Now I thought, finally we will get on the plane and rest our feet. But the line was moving so slowly for my short patience. I couldn’t understand why. About twenty minutes later we reached the front of the line, and it was very clear why it took so long to send people through. There were two security officers that required everyone to open their carry-on luggage and personal bag for search. Another uncalled for requirement. How many security checks does one airport need? Not to mention, the officer told Douglas that he could not take the drinks he just purchased in the airport terminal on the plane. Do they not trust their own liquids? I would like to meet the genius who came up with this policy. If this airport isn’t secure I don’t know what more they can do. I was relieved to eventually make it on the plane successfully. That processes was unnecessarily long.

Our destination was Venice with a flight connection in Rome. The flying time from Algiers to Rome was approximately two hours. While traipsing through the airport to find our new gate, we noticed there was another check point for all flight connections. We stood in a very long line to go through security once again and have our carry-on luggage scanned. Unfortunately, it wasn’t until after we spent thirty minutes in line that I remembered we were traveling with Diplomatic Passports. Douglas and I could have gone through a separate entrance, avoiding the crowd. There was not a lot of time to spare during the layover. Shortly after getting through security, it was time to board the plane. Both this plane and the previous one had 3x3 seating. There were three seats on one side, an aisle in the middle, and three seats on the other. It was close enough to make a short flight feel lengthy.

Over the course of my trip, one of the biggest observances I made was that most Westerners travel extremely light. Our suitcases are nearly twice the size of Europeans. This includes carry-on luggage and checked baggage. When someone says they are backpacking around Europe, they are not kidding. The individual literally carries a backpack filled with only necessities. Seeing this made me reflect on the post I wrote about owning an abundant amount of stuff. It didn’t dawn on me that I also need to pare down on the items I pack my trips. There is no doubt that I could make do with a lot less. Lesson Four: Pack lightly when traveling around Europe or anywhere for that matter.

The flying time between Rome and Venice was just one hour. I went in and out of sleep the entire way since I hadn’t rested all night. As the plane took off, the sky began to brighten. The time changed so quickly I barely noticed the difference. All of a sudden the sun beamed into the window prompting me to lower its shade. It was surreal to see the sky instantly change.  As rapidly as we ascended into the air, we descended just as fast. The pilot spoke over the microphone and said several words that I could not understand, but I did hear the most important words and that was “Welcome to Venice.”  As I stepped off the plane, I felt overwhelmed by the fact that my husband and I were now in Italy. We both had come a long way from The Bronx, New York and Charleston, South Carolina. I call that being blessed.

We wandered through the terminal for a bit, in awe of our surroundings that were quite normal for the locals. Our arriving terminal was nearby baggage claim. Before we forgot to do so, we changed the time on our watches. Italy is an hour ahead of Algiers.

While waiting for the belt to start moving with our luggage on it, Douglas said to me, “I bet you that guy to the left is a Marine.” The haircut often gives Marines away. Typically Marines can always spot one another even if they don’t know one another. We didn’t approach the man since him and what I assumed was his wife, were sorting through some of their carry-on items.

The belt began to move and one by one our luggage appeared. I was very happy that all our baggage arrived in one piece on the correct flight. I’ve already experienced my baggage not making it along with me, and it’s not a pleasant experience. Thus, I let out a sigh of relief when I saw my belongings made it safely with me. Soon after a Marine approached my husband and asked his name. This gentleman was sent to meet us and the other families arriving around the same time. The other couple that followed behind him was the same guy Douglas spotted earlier and claimed he was a Marine. He was right. We then introduced ourselves and instantaneously connected, building a pleasant rapport. We were told there was a bus leaving at 12:15 p.m. to take us to Aviano Air Base. The current time was 11:00 a.m. Everyone agreed that grabbing a bite to eat would be ideal until it was time to catch the bus. The first thing most people eat upon entering Italy is some kind of authentic Italian food. It was a unanimous decision to begin by enjoying a slice of pizza.

We took an elevator up to the next level where there was a nice restaurant that sold a variety of food. While everyone else oohed and ahhed over the incredibly large slices of pizza they saw, I got excited because there was a salad bar labeled gluten-free. Whenever I stumble upon an establishment that caters to those with a gluten intolerance it makes me feel like a normal human being again. I had a turkey salad with an assortment of carrots, corn, cucumbers, tomatoes, and lettuce. It was delicious! Although, probably not as scrumptious as the huge slice of mouthwatering pizza the others were devouring.

I sat with the first spouse I met, Christen. We began chatting like we already knew one another. The guys chummed up to each other just as quickly. Before we knew it, the time was 12:00 p.m. That was our cue to head back down to the main level.

There was a large bus waiting there to take the next set of passengers to Aviano. Surprisingly, I was looking forward to riding on the bus. I think bus or train rides can be very relaxing as long as they are not crowded. This bus was not packed; however, it was hot and dirty. The air conditioner was out of commission and the curtains were badly stained. It must have been at least 90 degrees outside that day which made the inside of the bus feel like a piping 100 degrees. I somehow managed to get a decent amount of sleep while being very uncomfortable. If you’re that tired, you can sleep anywhere apparently.  Both my husband and I knocked out! The ride was nearly two hours long. As I went in and out of sleep I caught glimpses of the scenery. There was plenty of beautiful greenery to observe, but I stopped taking pictures after I noticed the sights were all the same. The ride reminded me of driving on the back roads of the country in Virginia. 

We finally reached our stop. I could tell we were not at the base though. Waiting outside were two vehicles driven by Marines that were assigned to drive us to our lodging facility on base. Buses and taxis are not allowed to drive on base, which is where our rooms were set-up. As soon as the word Air Force is spoken, most military members know they are going to be set up well. The Air Force usually has remarkably nice, modern facilities and most of their bases are exceedingly large. This particular base was spread across five separate areas.  There was no one piece of land in Aviano large enough to house the entire Air Force base. The ride to base was not long -  a mere ten minutes. During the drive, I got to take a few pictures of stores in downtown Aviano.

We pulled up to the base entrance for ID check. Once everyone was cleared they drove to our hotel, which was directly across the street. The facility looked favorable from the outside and larger than I expected it to be. We checked-in and headed upstairs to our room. We bumped into a few familiar faces from the training in Quantico back in February of this year. Sadly, many of these Marines came without their wives. There were a couple spouses that I was very much looking forward to seeing. The husbands explained that the plane ticket was simply too costly for their wives and children to come. A few of the tickets cost nearly $1500 round trip per individual, depending on which country they came from. That was significantly higher than the cost of my ticket. I completely understood why their wives had to stay behind. But I also sympathized for the ladies. I know how much they all want and need a change of environment and pace from their current country. Again, I was reminded that my ability to go to Italy was truly a blessing.

Douglas and I settled into the room rather quickly. It was almost 4:00 p.m. and we were a bit hungry. Hours had already passed since we ate that pizza and salad at the airport. Luckily the Commissary and Base Exchange (BX) were within walking distance. The Command scheduled an Icebreaker Social for 6:00 p.m. that evening. For that reason we would only pick up a small snack.

It was surprising to see how desolate it was around base on a Tuesday afternoon. Had this been a Marine base it would have been swarming with Marines and activity. There were hardly any Airmen present. Maybe everyone was inside due to the extreme heat. The temperature was well into the 90’s.

As we approached the building where the BX and Commissary was located, Douglas and I caught sight of none other than a Popeye’s restaurant. Just a few weeks ago Douglas commented on missing Popeye’s chicken and biscuits. I would have never even expected to find one in Italy. But we were on an American base and the Air Force always has a variety of options. Along with Popeye’s there was Burger King, Taco Bell, Cinnabon stand, and a couple other restaurants. I’m not a fan of fast food, but I did enjoy some Popeye’s fries dipped in ketchup. The next best thing for me would have been Chick-fil-a. I would have lost my mind right there on the spot.  

After eating we walked down the hall to the commissary. It was nice to pull out my military ID card again and enter the military grocery store. Most Air Force bases have large or decently sized commissaries as well. I immediately pushed my cart towards the long display of fresh fruits and vegetables. I missed the simplicity of grocery shopping in the states.

The main reason we were in the commissary was to pick up some breakfast food for the mornings. Prior to my arrival, I learned that Italians do not eat breakfast. Ergo, it is not common to see American style breakfast food served in restaurants throughout the country. Mainly Italians will have a pastry or cold cut sandwiches in the mornings, opposed to the hot breakfast Americans are accustomed to enjoying. I can miss lunch. I can even miss dinner. But I draw the line at skipping breakfast or simplifying it with a pastry. I do respect their way of eating, but I just like the many American breakfast options  I've been accustomed to eating. That would be a difficult adjustment for me to make if I had to eat like an Italian. (You will see more of what I mean in my upcoming stories.) Thankfully, I made a few cinnamon raisin muffins before I left.  To go along with the muffins or at least give us another option, I picked up a box of cereal, almond milk, and my favorite yogurt made by Chobani.  This would ensure Douglas and I had something in our stomachs to start the day. We checked out and walked back to the hotel.

With little time to get ready, we showered, ironed clothes, and got dressed. Well, I shouldn’t say “we ironed” clothes, because I only touch an iron when Douglas is not around. My ironing skills leave much to be desired.

The Command arranged an Icebreaker Social for all the Marines and families to come together in a relaxed environment. There were also a few other events planned for us in the week. I thought it was highly considerate of them to keep the families in mind, despite the hefty amount of class material they needed to cover over the next few days.

The event began with a member of the Command informing every one of things to be cautious about while off base. The main items consisted of always having our passports available due to random checks and avoiding a bar downtown where military members are targeted for fights. Otherwise we were free to roam the area as we desired.

The feeling of being around other females that shared many of my exact experiences was amazing. It was especially wonderful to see a former classmate, Nickia, from my spouse training class taken in Quantico. She is incredibly sweet and has two of the cutest little girls. There chubby cheeks and big blue eyes make my heart melt. Also, I spent a lot of time getting to know a few new spouses, including Christen, who I met earlier at the airport, and a girl named Rayma, that was new to the region. I introduced myself to her via email before coming to the conference. She and I were both looking forward to exploring Italy while the guys worked during the day. We hoped there would be other spouses that were interested in doing the same. I immediately connected with these ladies and had some great conversations.

It was getting late and the fatigue from a long day of travel was hitting our bodies hard. Around 9:30 p.m. we called it a night, said our goodbyes, and made our way back to the hotel.  

As we strolled through the grass to get to the hotel, Douglas and I were astonished to see that it was still semi-light outside. It did not get completely dark there until 10:00 p.m. I had never experienced anything like that. The sky revealed a soft, midnight blue color that looked heavenly. It’s hard to realize how late the time is when it’s still light outside.

Behind the base was a gorgeous view of the Dolomite Mountains in the Italian Alps. The sight was breathtaking.

Both these photos were taken at approximately 9:45 p.m.

After twelve hours of traveling and a fun night of entertaining, I still had enough energy to smile and bask in the joy of actually being present in Italy.  One day down, five more to go.

To be continued with Part 2……