Naples part II: How I almost died

No, dear reader, the title is not just fluff and exaggeration. I came closer to an early and untimely demise last night than ever before. Allow me to explain. The Lufthansa flight took off from Munich as scheduled, and was uneventful until we approached Naples. About 30 minutes out from Naples airport the plane went through some heavy turbulence but as we soon resumed smooth flying, I wasn't too worried. I am, after all, nothing if not a man of the world and I like to think I have seen my share of disturbances in the air. Don't sweat the petty stuff and don't pet the sweaty stuff is what I say.

However when we came even closer to Naples, things really started to heat up, metaphorically speaking. The plane really started to shake and rattle, and it soon felt like I was on a rollercoaster, not in an airplane. We were flying through thick fog so I saw fuck all to orientate myself, which probably added to the increasing panic I was feeling.

After what felt like an eternity of this terror the plane picked up speed and started to gain height again. I noticed we seemed to be turning around and soon got a sneaking suspicion. Were we going to land in Rome instead? Were they keeping us, so to speak, in the dark in order to minimize the complaning? Possibly. Anyway, after quite a while the captain came on the air and hesitantly explained that the weather in Naples was so awful he wasn't going to try to land us there and that we had, indeed already started our landing procedure in Rome.

It was probably a good thing that we were still in the air, because a howl arose from all the greaseballs on the plane. Cries of "impossibile" and "incredibile" and the likes could be heard all around. Personally I thanked the powers that be that the plane was flown by Germans, who could be trusted to put the lives of their passengers ahead of any need to be home with Mama for a hearty dinner of meatballs and spaghetti. If we had flown Alitalia or some such airline I have no doubt the pilots would have gone in on a wing and a prayer at the risk of smashing us all against Vesuvius like a glass of spicy tomato sauce, if you pardon the mental image. As it was we landed smoothly and safe in Rome an hour late.

Things started to deteriorate rapidly once we got to Rome. First of all, as soon as the plane started to slow down, the Italians exploded into the midway, opening overhead compartments and taking out clothes, bags, little children and whatever else they had stowed away up there - long before the plane had "come to a complete halt and the captain had switched off the fasten seatbelt sign". They kept standing in the aisle for one hour straight, talking loudly on their cell phones and effectively blocking out the messages the captain was trying to convey over the loudspeakers.

Also, as soon as the plane landed we were under Italian "jurisdiction", and what I laughingly refer to as Italian organizing began. First we spent almost an hour waiting in the plane, on the tarmac. Then we were taken to the terminal, where about half of us got our luggage and the rest had to wait for two fuckin' hours before the greaseballs got their collective asses in gear. It never occurred to them that half a load of luggage wasn't going to do anyone any good, since we were all ultimately going to the same place and had to wait till the last person got his last measly bag of dirty underwear.

The scenery in the arrival hall was a classic study of different cultures. Being Norwegian, I was naturally stoic about things. I grumbled and smouldered, but heaven forbid I actually DID anything, such as complaining to an official. There was a Canadian couple who also seemed to take things in good spirit - joking and grumbling but mostly joking. There were a couple of yanks on the plane and they were talking loudly about how someone should call the local media and create some pressure on the authorities to get SOMETHING done. This would probably work in a civilized nation, such as the US of A, but not in Italy. The Krauts were talking quietly and orderly to the plane's crew and, like yours truly, seemed to take it all in stride. Most of the Italians were running around like headless chicken (probably a step up on the intellectual scale) and waving their arms and hands at each other while talking on their cell phones.

Finally, around thirty minutes after midnight we were told to "follow the lady in blue" and soon we were led out of the building and on to two waiting buses. It still took almost 45 mins before we were on our way. It was well after 4 am when we arrived at the airport in Naples. I grabbed my luggage and rapidly negotiated my way to the nearest taxi. I arrived at my hotel at appx 4:45 am - dirty, sweaty, hungry and thirsty - but alive!