This is the story about the long trip from Florence all the way to Paris. We left Florence around 6pm heading over to Arezzo. The initial plan was to have a look at what Arezzo had to offer and catch the later train (after midnight) to Rome, where we would go to Fiumicino Airport and then fly to Paris with Vueling at 10:25am.
When we arrived at Arezzo it was freezing cold and we sudenly felt there was nothing to do there and changed the plans, we changed the ticket to Rome to one leaving 7:30pm. The idea was to arrive in Rome in time to catch the Leonardo Express train to Fiumicino Airport and sleep there.
The train to Rome arrived about 40 minutes late but luckily we still managed to catch the last train to the airport. It was a fun trip as the other people on our cabin where all desperate because the train was late and they wouldn't be able to catch the next train in time. It's fun when it happens to other people. It's also fun that they were angry because the train was 1h late. Since Brazil does not have trains, we are pretty much left hopeless that any bus will be on time on the destination. It was also fun to see this old man from Rome pretty much giving a speech to this old woman about how in hell she planned a train just 1h after the first one. Any delay would leave her waiting at Roma Termini all night.
Anyway, we left to Roma Termini and jumped on the last train to the Airport. Arriving there we look for signs of flights on the next morning. I find one big display and there are 2 flights to Paris. One at 10:20 from Terminal 1 and another 10:25 from Terminal 3. Obviously I didn't remember which one was mine and my cellphone battery was dead so I could not search my e-mails for the reservation. So we head over to Terminal 1 to see what happens. Arriving there Terminal 1 is closed and will only open at 5am. Terminal 2 is next to it and is open though. I was familiar with Terminal 2 as we used it on the flight to Venice, and I remember that there was a power outlet there ( I believe it's the only power outlet available to the public in the entire Fiumicino airport. There is one in the snack bar on Terminal 3 but the bartenders are very rude and are not happy if you use them). The interesting part is that it's hidden, on the wall, opposite side of the toilettes. So we head over there very happy as I would be able to charge my cellphone battery and finally find out what time was our flight. Just to find out the flight was 10:25 and thus on Terminal 3 LOL
So after charging the battery a little bit we head over to Terminal 3 to see if there's any power outlet over there and to find a place to sleep. I literally scan the entire Terminal looking for power outlets. The only one is at the bar, but the bartenders are rude and I grow sick of it pretty soon.
We try to find somewhere to sleep but as you may imagine it's crowdy and there's nowhere to sleep except the cold ground. We then decide to go back to Terminal 2 as it was pretty empty when we left earlier.
When we are about to leave Terminal 3 the
security guy approaches us and asks for passports. Holy shit! Neurotic as I am I start creating scenarios in my mind of what it could be (Never mind the fact I was scanning the entire terminal minutes before LOL). Anyway, it turns out they cannot find us on the list of terrorists and it seems they trust us.
WEW!!! Thankfully, I don't want to rot in Guantanamo without any lawyer available. At least they have the best medical care over there, if what Michael Moore says is true. I still do not want to go there.
So we head over to Terminal 2 only to find it closed now. Damn! What's going on with these closing Terminals. So we have to go back all the way to Terminal 3. Hopefully no security arrests us for doing rounds around the airport. With the little backpacks (There will be a post about it, Traveling Light part 2, I know you cannot wait to read it), we just could be 2 little drug junks. After all how come a couple is traveling with only a 5kg backpack each.
Anyway, we are in Terminal 3 and cannot sleep. The benches are cold and hard. Probably around 4am I finally manage to find some seats that are connected, i.e. do not have the separator arm rest.
I have maybe slept like 1h in between snaps.
Somehow the next few hours are quick and it's time to embark on the flight VY6251 to Paris with Vueling.
We are impressed at how many people are on the line as the plane is quite small. It's no surprise when we enter the plane only to find out there's like half square meters space for each person. The seat also go only up to my shoulder. It's funny, I can see everything, but cannot rest my head though. I immediately start joking about it as that's my way of bitching. Somehow the Spanish flight attendant hears my prayers as she comes over and asks if I would like to move to the emergency exit.
YYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYEEEEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHH!
Now I feel good. Lot's of space. Who cares now that there are 250 people on the space for 120. And if somehow we have to use the emergency exit I'm the first out of the plane. By the way does anybody ever uses the emergency exit? Seriously.
It's a 2hour flight and I'm hoping to get some sleep as by this time I'm seriously sleep deprived. Luckily somehow I get to sleep (dunno about nearby passengers though)
Sometime later I wake up and I notice the plane is starting descending. Cool, we are probably landing in like 30 minutes. I look behind and there's a weird passenger, he stands up and goes talk to the flight attendant. She's not happy about whatever he said and politely requests him to go back to his seat, as the plane will land in a few minutes. The guy will not seat, and she aggressively commands him to sit down, she's now very worried (and then I get worried, what the hell is this guy doing!) He looks like Jamal from
Slumdog Millionaire by the way.
The plane lands and before it even breaks completely the guy is already stood up and opening the overhead compartiment. Shit! 2 flight attendants rush to him and he's handling some papers inside his luggage. Damn it. No way I'm part of this guys plan to blow the airplane. I'm ready to take him down as are the 20 passengers around. They announce that we must all sit down as the police will come in the plane. Tension rises as the police comes in and our eyes are glued to Mr Jamal. Police comes in and arrests the guy. We can now leave and by the time I'm about 200m away from the plane I can finally breathe in relief. It turns out it was just some weirdo mo-fo. The day was saved and we can now enjoy Paris!
Esta é a história da longa viagem entre Florença e Paris. Nós partimos de Florença as 6 da tarde para Arezzo. A idéia era passear um pouco por Arezzo e mais tarde pegar o trem pra Roma, de onde pegaríamos o trem para o Aeroporto Fiumicino e de lá no dia seguinte voaríamos para Paris pela Vueling. Chegando em Arezzo estava muito frio, então resolvemos mudar o horário do trem e pegar o trem das 19:30 para Roma. A idéia era chegar em Roma a tempo de pegar o trem Leonardo Express para o aeroporto e dormir por lá.
Chegamos ao Roma Termini e pegamos o trem pro aeroport. Chegando lá procuramos o display pra ver se tinha informação sobre os vôos do dia seguinte. A bateria do meu celular tinha morrido e eu não conseguia ver qual era o terminal ou horário do vôo. Vemos que o das 10:20 é no Terminal 1 então vamos pra lá. Chegando lá, o mesmo está fechado. Vamos para o Terminal 2 que é ali do lado. Ali eu havia encontrado a única tomada disponível no aeroporto inteiro, para carregar o celular. Carrega um pouco o celular, e rapidinho descubro que estamos no terminal errado. Putz! Temos que ir pro terminal 3.
Chegando lá começo a escanear o aeroporto procurando uma tomada. Não tem nenhuma. Vamos procurar lugar pra dormir, mas é difícil, só tem o chão frio mesmo. Resolvemos voltar lá para o Terminal 2 pois lá pelo menos tinha menos gente. Ao chegar perto da porta a polícia do aeroporto vem até nós e pede o passaporte. Caracoles. Só me faltava essa, já começo a imaginar mil cenários na minha cabeça. Mas felizmente não era nada, não estamos na lista de terroristas procurados. Ainda bem, não quero saber de ir pra Guantánamo.
Chegamos ao Terminal 2 e o mesmo estava fechado agora. Mas que azar!
Temos que voltar agora pro Terminal 3 e torcer pros caras não prenderem a gente por dar muitas voltas no aeroporto rsrsrsrs
Voltamos ao Terminal 3, mas é impossível dormir. Os bancos são duros e frios. Lá pelas 4 da manhã alguns passageiros vão procurar seus vôos e liberam posições onde não tem o encosto do braço, então dá pra tentar dormir. Eu tento, mas durmo uma hora se muito. As próximas horas passam rápido, e já é hora de embarcar. Tem um monte de gente na fila, me dá até medo de overbooking, mas na real é que as poltronas estão muito próximas umas das outras, eles metem umas 200 pessoas dentro do avião, onde caberiam 120.
Eu já começo fazer umas piadinhas sobre a falta de espaço, e parece que dá certo pois a aeromoça vem perguntar se queremos mudar para a saída de emergência.
EEEEEEEEEBBBBBBBBAAAAAAA!!!!
Agora sim estou bem. Bastante espaço. Azar dos outros que estão comprimidos nas outras poltronas.
E se precisar usar a saída de emergência ao menos estou ali pertinho.
É um vôo de 2 horas então eu tento dormir um pouco. E por milagre eu até consigo dormir. Só vou acordar quando o avião já está começando a descer. Eu fico contente pois daí no máximo meia hora estaremos pousando.
Eu olho pra trás e tem um passageiro esquisito, levanta de seu assento e vai falar com a aeromoça. Não faz um minuto o piloto mandou todo mundo ficar sentado pois vamos pousar em breve. Aí vem merda.
A aeromoça não está contente com o que ele disse pra ela, o que quer que seja e pede gentilmente para que ele sente no seu lugar. O cara parece que não quer sentar e neste momento já tem uma outra aeromoça, e a primeira está falando rispidamente pra ele sentar. Tem uns 40 passageiros olhando fixamente pro cara, com caras raivosas rsrsrsr
O avião pousa, nem bem freou completamente o cara levanta e vai lá falar com a aeromoça de novo. Ela manda o cara sentar. O cara não senta, vai lá pro seu lugar, abre o compartimento de bagagem, pega sua mala, abre e começa a mexer em uns papéis.
Eu começo a olhar pro cara, assim como os outros passageiros, e estamos todos pensando a mesma coisa. Que que esse cara tá fazendo. A propósito, o cara se parece com o Jamal do filme
Slumdog Millionaire.
Eu e mais uns 10 passageiros estamos preparados para acabar com o cara ao menor barulho de tic tac, mas o piloto manda todo mundo sentar porque a polícia vai entrar no avião. Aí sim hein!
Todo mundo tenso, 5 policiais entram e prendem o cara, arrastam ele pra fora do avião.
Começamos todos a descer, e quando eu tava uns 200 metros longe do avião, finalmente posso respirar aliviado. Era só um fdp, mas não era terrorista, então era um bom f.d.p.
Bora passear em Paris!
