When we left off the Figueroa family looked like this......

By the time we were finished traveling we looked like this.........

What happened to cause us to look like this?  The swirling vortex of hell that is called transatlantic travel.  It started out harmless enough.  We arrived at Newark with a mile long line to check in.  This is where it starts. Newark Airport does not have a separate international terminal like most other airports. Everyone leaves and checks in in one great big lump.  This manages to produce a snarl at check in that was chaotic to say the least.  It took us almost 2 hours to check in (thank God we were bored and left the Marriott early).  We then proceeded down to our gate for our 7:30pm flight where we then sat and sat and sat and sat.  Why did we sit for so long?  Because of this....

We knew it was a slim possibility for a storm to occur. The weather channel said about a 30% chance but as we were soon to learn, Lady Luck had left the Figueroas.  After several false starts at which the entire gate crammed the entryway trying to get on we were flying allowed to board.  We board and this is the one shining beacon of happiness.  Apparently United had changed their planes from what was originally booked and 18 A,B,C, and D were now Economy Plus seats.  This meant we had considerably more legroom than the schmucks 2 rows back.  We had the TVs in the headrests with an enormous amount of viewing options available to us.  Then luck left us as we were then left on the tarmac for an additional two hours waiting for our turn to take off.  This pushed us far out of the realm of possibility for catching our flight to Naples.  I guess I should explain, our itinerary was this, Newark to Frankfurt on United, hour layover, and then Frankfurt to Naples on Lufthansa.  We foolishly did not concern ourselves with the layover as we assumed we would just catch another flight.  More on that later...

Our next descent into the vortex was Hannah.....

  

Hannah is not a good traveler, her brother, yes.  Raphael once rode in the front of a U-Haul truck for 14 hours straight with Israel and I and nary a peep.  Hannah, not so much. We had placed Hannah in her car seat so she could be as comfortable as she could be but that wasn’t much.  She tossed and turned the entire 8 hours.  She did not like her legs hanging so we flipped down the tray and used it to elevate her feet.  That lasted for most of the time until one flight attendant out of the 8 we had been in contact with decided we could not do that.  Fortunately we were about an hour away from landing so it did not matter much.  She woke up crying about every hour so that meant that the person next to her, i.e. me was woken up from what little sleep they had managed and had to soothe her before she woke the entire plane (which she probably managed at some point).  I got about 1.5 hours of sleep once we descended into Frankfurt but at this point we are just glad to be getting off the plane 3 hours later than originally intended, ready to see a little bit of Europe, and get our itinerary moving.  

Europe is weird, or at least in the two places we disembarked from airplanes, in that they land their planes way out on the tarmac and bus you into the gates.  It feels a little old school stepping down off the plane into the cool air.  It is not pleasant in that everyone is trying to get down that staircase at the same time and has no care for a woman clutching a toddler’s hand while groping three bags with the other.  Once we had arrived at the gate and pushed our way through we were told by a representative (we are still not sure who the heck he was) that we were rebooked on a flight and to go to gate A1 (a gate that was never correct in any of our info).  We foolishly rely on this man’s info and head through what I can only describe as a rabbit warren that is the Frankfurt airport until finally arriving at gate A1 to.......nothing.  No one is there and it is at the end of a long hall and looks to be a place for storage.  There were a few wheelchairs there along with a mop and broom.  We sidle over to the next gate where a very unpleasant German gentleman is manning the gate.  Israel explains our dilemma, the man taps into the computer as agents are wont to do, and then says this....”Your flight is for 8:45pm tonight.” Excuse me what?  It is 12:15.  We have slept for an hour and a half and you are telling me what?  Israel asks him if there are any other flight to which he looks dead at Israel and says, “No.”  Now Israel is a calm guy but this attitude is really starting to irritate him and the guy spells his doom when he answers Israel’s next question of “Can you tell me what time our original flight we were due to take left?” with a churlish “No.  It doesn’t matter.”  I am not sure what was said next as once he said that I hustled the kids away with the distinct feeling that words were about to be unleashed.  If the hand gestures and facial expressions are to be believed communication was not being shared with a feeling of international peace and understanding.  Israel came back to us and explained that there are only 2 flights per day to Naples, one in the morning and one at night.  We were officially stuck.  No phone, no internet, no nothing.

After weighing our options we decided to eat a bite and then find the USO, which we knew from our research was in the airport somewhere.   I will pause here to wonder at the German fascination with sandwiches.  I would say 90% of the food joints in the Frankfurt airport sold sandwiches.  Sandwiches are fine but if you are stuck at the airport for an indeterminate amount of time the last thing you want is multiple sandwiches.  To continue, after our lovely lunch of sandwich and water we then began what turned into a two hour search for the USO.  One airport worker would tell us to go left, the next right, the next up, the next down.  After finally finishing our trek through the entire length and breadth of the Frankfurt airport, including a multitude of bathrooms, we arrived at the USO.......to find out it closes at 3:00pm, 10 minutes after we arrived.  We had just enough time to send out 2 emails and grab a soda and feel the vague warmth of electric Americana on the TV before getting kicked out into German nothingness again.  This is around the time where we realize that my son had misplaced my daughter’s toy bag.  The same bag I had just found for a steal in Georgia before we left.  For some reason this was my last straw.  I just started to cry.  I was tired, stressed to the max, unwashed, and had had enough.  I sat for a minute and cried as my family watched helplessly and for some reason that 2 or 3 minutes of tears got me through the rest of the day.  I pulled up my big girl panties and moved on.  On a side note: we think that that bag may have caused a slight ruckus in baggage claim as later the terminal was shortly blocked off with the citing of bag left unclaimed in terminal.  Whoops.

The next installment will be later this week, maybe tomorrow.  We start the move in process for our housing today.  I say process as it is not as easy as it is in the States.  Moving is a series of appointments as you cut through Italian red tape.  We also learned that there are no pillows available from the lending locker, not that I would want to borrow one, and we may not get our express shipment for about a week or so due to the Italian summer break schedule, yes you heard that right.  Most of Italy shuts down the last two weeks of August for summer vacation.  This makes moving difficult during this time.  Anyways, the kids and I are trekking over to the NEX to see about a few things, such as the above mentioned pillows, before the appointment.  I am not sure if or what I will have to do tomorrow but I will try.