Monday, July 30, 2007

June 30 (Written from the Circumvesuvia on Route to Naples (From Pompii)

From Gatwick to Palermo the flight was short and comfortable.

On landing we were herded onto a bus and taken to the terminal. After 3 minutes in the baggage area we were summarily marched back to the bus, as we had not gone through Italian immigration.

Once loaded, the bus carried us thirty feet or... to the proper entrance. Immigration was manned by to tired looking men, whose lazy eyes skimmed our passports and waved us through

Luggage collected I made my way to the train to downtown.

The last leg of my journey, the train from the airport to downtown, was the hardest. I had no expectation for how long it should take, but it took longer then I expected, and felt longer still.

A short (yet expensive) taxi ride later, and a walk up some stairs and I was at Hotel Sicila (pronounced Si-ch-illa.) I knocked on the great wooden doors (a faux pas I was soon to be informed of) my rapping not only summoned the desk clerk, but also the cutest girl in Italy.

I had arrived.

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