The Grateful Dead (tired)

I have travelled more than most people. For most of my 23 year (so far) consulting career I was on a plane, or rather several planes, every week. I learned the Road Warrior skills, and am fairly immune to jet lag, red eyes, etc.

Travelling with a 15 month-old is an entirely different kettle of fish. Your typical (if that word applies at all) 15 month-old is mobile, vocal (God knows what language they're speaking, but it's definitely vocal), curious and impatient. These are not qualities that a jetliner is designed to cater to. So I was quite afraid of the long trip from Bend, Oregon to Varese, Italy. It involved a three hour drive to Portland, a short night at an airport hotel, schlepping too much luggage, including carrying on a baby seat and stroller, a 4 1/2 hour flight to Atlanta, changing concourses in the notorious Hartsfield International (beware of airports that require trains!), then 8 1/2 hours more to Milan, then ground transportation to Varese.

Susan happily cashed in a six digit number of frequent flyer miles to upgrade us. We decided to get the baby a seat even though she could fly in our laps until the age of two. Delta's people were really helpful and thoughtful. Our fellow passengers were good sports (it was fun to see the looks on the faces of the people in the Atlanta business class lounge when they saw their little business classmate and wondered if she would be in the seat behind). We made and arrangement with Ezio Paroni in Varese, who rented a car that was (just barely) big enough. The skycap at Malpensa was great, and Sunday morning was quiet (most Italians saving their strength for screaming at the TV during the afternoon soccer matches), and here we are.

The only downer was Delta in Atlanta. There are none of those rentable baggage carts. The agent I spoke to gave me a lengthy explanation about why this was a good thing. I think we had different perspectives on the matter.

Let's call it 29 hours door-to-door. Italy, are you ready for Mirella?