The long road home: forgotten passports, missed windows, and police scares
traveling isn't always as luxurious as it seems
Recently I’ve been making some grave travel errors. The first was boarding an international flight from Naples to Paris and realizing I didn’t have my passport. My husband looked at me like I was dead to him, but I like to think that due to my charm, but more likely my affiliation with the US Military, I got onto my flight unscathed (thanks, military ID!). This kickstarted a series of unfortunate events that have made me question my ability to be a successful budget traveler. Or maybe I’m just destined for first class?
My second grave error was due to a mishap with my archnemesis, the European airline RyanAir. RyanAir is the “QVC” of the airline industry. The attendants are “there for your safety” but really they are making commissions for goods sold during the flight. Therefore, instead of a quick nap on your hour jumper to Verona, your eyes are jolted open with perfume sales and lottery tickets waved in your face. Flying in Ryan Air is like being stuffed into a micro version of the Fremont Street experience in Las Vegas. The flight attendants push constant announcements, wave booze around, and aggressively flicker the lights, while passengers get away with a flurry of bad behavior.
The website and application UI is also a minefield. You need to be pretty sharp and definitely under the age of 45 to book a flight without also buying a gift card, donating to charity, or paying in the wrong currency at exorbitant rates.
It seems like the entire strategy of the business is trickery: from precise baggage requirements, fine print during purchase, and the granddaddy of all, the nebulous “check-in window”. You cannot check in sooner than 24 hours before the flight or later than 2 hours before the flight. This is when you roll up your sleeves and sit down to the chess table. Ryan Air charges 8 euros per person to reserve a seat. Any seat. Even the ones next to the toilet in the last row. If you are traveling with a companion, you can’t sit next to each other unless you both reserve a seat, tallying up to 16 euros. Yet, if you wait until the very last minute to check in, all of the seats in the front that no one was foolish enough to purchase are usually still available, and the “algorithm” will allow you what is remaining. We’ve gotten exit row seats next to each other just for playing it fast and loose!
The problem with this approach is that sometimes, like when we took our in-laws to Bergamo, is that you can miss the online check-in window. I had to bring my three loved ones onto the RyanAir walk of shame, to some dingy counter hidden in the annals of the Napoli airport, only to be charged 66 euros per person by a nameless “agent” to check in at the airport. I fought back tears as I handed over my credit card to this evil corporation, and vowed never to fly this airline again.
That is, of course, until they were the cheapest option on our flight home from Poland this week. There I was, shoved into a corner of the plane, my coat in my lap and my backpack under my seat, where I resembled a crinkled-up origami paper. I was still recovering from a wicked case of food poisoning the night before and was surviving off of coke and bread. As soon as we landed, I had to rush to the pharmacy because I’d run out of an important medication. It was about 8:00 PM and I showed up at the pharmacy with a Polish bagel (obwarzanki) stuffed in my pocket and wearing two sweaters and a jacket to avoid any luggage fees. For Italian existence, this is an unforgivable sight.
The Italian pharmacist told me that not only had my prescription expired, but also that they couldn’t accept a digital copy of my prescription, it needed to be the original paper copy. I tried everything: look me up in the system! You accepted the digital copy last time! Please help me, I need to take this medicine today! It’s not even a controlled substance! She spoke to her boss who told me to go to the Guardia Medica. I had no idea what this was, but I knew the Guardia di Finanza is a militarized police force, so in my haggard state, I assumed the pharmacist was sending me to the medical cops for prescription fraud. I started sweating, not only from the excessive clothes I was wearing in a Mediterranean climate but also from the thought of being accused as a criminal.
Luckily, my doctor called me to sort this out before I landed myself in a Neapolitan jail. When I went home, I found out that the Guardia Medica is an extremely useful after-hours doctor that you can go to when your primary care physician is unavailable. My record will remain clean.
I dream of a life where I am calmly seated in first class, and the flight attendant brings me herbal tea and cookies while I meditate and stretch out with ample leg room. The reality is that even in first class, traveling is messy. I can’t always be someone who has their passport, follows every RyanAir rule, and remembers to bring enough medication on their trip. There will be casualties. But they’re worth it.
Happy Holidays to all of my readers! Are you traveling during this season? I hope it is a smooth trip! Here is a non-exhaustive list of the worst travel mistakes I’ve ever made:
Bringing cute shoes instead of comfortable ones
Booking my trip for the wrong date and realizing at the last minute
Booking my trip for the wrong airport and realizing at the last minute
Eating room-temperature fried cod cakes in Portugal on our honeymoon
Drinking a gin bucket with my high school friends the night before an international flight
Forgetting my official passport while exiting the EU in Finland
Leaving my entire purse (wallet, ID, keys) at the restaurant I ate at the night before a 6 AM flight
The check-in window is crazy!! and I laughed at the italian-disapproved attire XD
Thank you for helping me feel sane, with my own travel mishaps. I thought there was something wrong with me!