That’s two Winter Olympics under my belt and no Olympic events under my nose. Strange, huh?

Anyway, I made it home safely after missing two trains and three flights.

I take full responsibility for the first train and flight I missed. Wine has a funny effect on me. I overslept. Partying in Tuscany can really take its toll. But hey, I got an extra day in Italy. Life has never dealt me a cruel blow that I loved so much. I could live there.

The other train and flights I blame on, um, well… no idea. How about Italy’s uhhhhh Train Czar? I made that title up. But you get the point. One train never showed. The one I was told to get on never left the station. Everyone on that train had to pile onto another train which showed up 30 minutes late and then took twice as long to get to the Rome airport as it should.

I was sitting in the front train car and one of the two conductors opened the door to the “cockpit” and the gal next to me shouted to the guy driving the train, “How much longer to the airport?” She said it in Italian but even the Canadians on the train understood. He turned and said “20 minutes.” He said it in Italian but even I understood.

Thirty five minutes later, with the cliiiiiiiiiiicketyyyyyyyy-claaaaaaaaaaack (that’s slow motion for clickety-clack) of the rails still tapping away beneath me, I grabbed my phone and called Delta Airlines… for the second day in a row! I see now I was cutting it way too close by leaving only a two hour margin of error.

ME---“Hello Delta, I’m going to miss my flight.
DELTA—“But…”
ME—“Yes, the one you changed me to the first time I called to tell you I was going to miss my flight… yesterday.”
DELTA---“Ahhhhhh, Mr. Redding! Did you oversleep again? Too much red wine perhaps? You really should lay off the boo…”
ME---“Listen, bub! The train schedules in Italy are not schedules at all. They’re suggestions. My bad for not knowing that. But can you get me back to Charlotte before I have to call Visa and ask them to raise my credit limit?”
DELTA—“No problem. We’ll put you on the 11:50 AM to Cincinnati… Cincinnati to Atlanta… Atlanta to Guadalajara… Guadalajara to Minsk… Minsk to Charlotte.”
ME---“Um, how long will all that take?”
DELTA---“Let’s see, 18 hours. You’ll get home on Friday.”
ME---“But it’s Thursday morning and I’ll gain 6 hours in time zones! How is that possible?”
DELTA---“Well it all started when you drank too much wine last Tues….”
ME---“Well alrighty then. It has been so wonderful talking to you again. I’ll just take that flight to Cincinnati and roll with it.”

And 45 minutes later…

FLIGHT ATTENDANT--“Welcome aboard Delta flight 33 to Cincinnati, blah blah blah….”
ME--“Excuse me miss, is there any Chianti on the plane?”
F.A.--“You must be Mr. Redding.”

Good times.

Onward and upwards. Andy and I are back in the saddle and lining up the next Carolina Traveler special. Well, technically Andy is lining that up. I’m staring at a bag of receipts. I have to fill out an expense report and justify how I spent WCNC’s money for the month of February.

About 150 receipts and I can’t read a single one. This will be fun. “See, boss, ‘vino’ is Italian for taxi!”

I’m glad to be back. Talk to you again next week.