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Fiumicino Airport, 320, Via dell'Aeroporto di Fiumicino, Aeroporto Leonardo da Vinci, Fiumicino, Rome, Roma, Italy
Abbott - Day 2...which is really a continuation of Day 1...
I'm standing on the Tarmac, right in the front of one of the spinning engines, thinking, what it would by like to get sucked into that engine, probably not pleasant, I'm startled to reality by a bunch adults, screaming and yelling like six year olds, jostling for position as they push themselves onto the bus, crammed like sardines for the trip to the terminal. What idiots I'm thinking, Hello! Next bus? just wait for the next bus. No, they have to be the first ones to get to the gate, to run through customs, to grab their bags and be off. After all this is Italy, land of efficiency. Hahaha aha....
As im watching the sardine bus drive away, i see the ground workers walking around aimlessly, looking for something to do. Here's an idea:
L-u-g-g-a-g-e. It's morning, the sun is shining, and its warm. The flight was a chilly one. I had my sweater on, felt good to remove it. The next bus pulls in to take us in air conditioned comfort, I can see the luggage train in the distance. There's something wrong. It's going too smooth. I text Gerard that I've arrived and he replies on how to get to Sixt Rental cars...at the very end of the hallway, up the stairs to the tunnel, next building over.... Yea, ok. Where did i put my meds...
We pull into the terminal and the rest of the six year olds are running, literally running to Customs. In a perfect world there would be 4 lanes with 4 customs officers. Efficiency at its best. But this is Italy. 4 lanes become 20. The 20 then become a glob of mass confusion because no one ever reads the signs of where you're supposed to go. " hey, let's follow Gino, he knows where he's going..."
Twenty minutes later, I'm through. I flash my Cdn passport, get a thumbs up from the customs officer who insists on saying HOKAY in his best version of English & who probably doesn't even know how to read and go fetch my luggage, except our flight doesn't show up on the screen for another 15 minutes. Imagine 200+ people going from conveyor to conveyor looking for luggage that's still on the plane. I see eight conveyors with luggage flowing. Ours would be posted on conveyor #10, further down in the next building. By the time I reach the conveyor, the flight is posted and the flow is trickling in. Everyone has congregated in one spot to see where theirs is. I see the lady that I sat beside and wave with a smile. Hmmm, she didn't wave back. How rude!!
I walk over to exit ramp and grab my luggage as soon as it comes through and walk to greet my Abarth. T minus 15 minutes. :)
If it weren't for Gerards instructions I would never have found the rental agency. It looked somewhat familiar from my previous trip and so i had a vague idea where I was going. Finally, I reach the Sixt counter. I look around. Avis - wall to wall people. Packed. Hertz - the same. Sixt? I'm the only one. I ask the brunette who's filing her nails behind the counter if I have the right spot. She says "si." I step forward and she asks for my "passaporto & drivers leechenza"
Me: yes, I have reservations I made through your website. Confirmation #, I requested a Fiat Abarth, manual transmission. (salivating, I'm thinking, is it white? Red? Black? Oh I can't wait. This is soo exciting! An Abarth as a rental car. Woohoo. Now I know what it felt like for people to rent a Shelby GT350's through Hertz in the 60's).
Grazia: May I see your papers please? (I hand them over along with the res #). Ah, oKaye, um, you need dee car four fo-werterdeen dayze?
Me: yes, I requested a fiat abarth. Here is the correspondence and your confirmation. I confirmed it with your Sixt office.
Grazia: yes, I see that. Uno momento. Yes, a, here eet eaze. Abarth. Yes. Bella Macchina.
But we were expecting you yesterday..da seeks. Today, ease da sevent.
Me: huh?? What?
Grazia: Oggi e il sette di agosto. La macchina e partida. Eaze gonna. (shows me the reservation, it says 6. She points to the calendar, 7!!! )
Me: holy f***!!
Grazia: si, fook!!
Me: how could this be? I have reservations. The car....Jesus f##king Ch###t, how could I have f***ed this up??? How? How? How? I was in Ottawa when I made these reservations. I was talking to Gerard. I asked them 13x, it's the 6th? It's the sixth? Are are you sure it's the sixth? Yes, Walter it's the 6th. Wtf? Ohhhhh for f*** sakes, I feel like s*** now. Yes, it's the sixth. I depart the 6th & arrive on the 7th!! Oh my f***ing god, I'm dead now. Im going to get some piece of s*** now. f*** me. Oh I'm so upset. I feel like going home.
Me: ok grazia, what can you do for me? Obviously i f***ed up. What do you have available?
Grazia: Si, um, I don't have the abarth. I have mee-cra.
Me: nissan micra? Ah, no. Pass, what else? Do you have a ford fiesta or focus? Diesel? Gasolio?
Grazia: Noh, i no have any gasolio een deese classe. Meecra automatic? Whatza da deeference anywayz. You no speed. La massima e cento trenta. non e come prima...
Me: (thinking: oh, I was getting sick to my stomach. The nausea was setting in. I'm going to drive a piece of s*** for two weeks. Just kill me now.) no grazia, sounding dejected. I like to drive. Mi piace guidare. What do you have in the next class up. Anything interesting? With gears? Co le marce... Gasolio....
Grazia: ah no... Fa mi vedere... Letta mee look...
Me: Alfa Mito? (what a f***ing ugly car, I'd rather drive a fiat punto) an older fiat punto? Anything that pulls? Mi piace se il motore po tirare.
Grazia: uno moment, I looking...
Me: (thinking: shes probably never worked this hard. Jesus!! The 7th. For f*** sakes. I'm ending up with a s***box micra. I really feel sick now, my head is spinning. How fast can I go in that piece of s***? 130??? Ohhh my stomach hurts. I'm going to geon royally f***ed on the rate. I feel like crap!!!)
Grazia: Hokay, I got una Punto. You want? La voi? I give you da same rate de la website. Pagi la differenza....
Me: I guess. Nothing else in that $$ range?
Grazia: mee-cra...
...Moping in silence, I walked to find my Punto. No Abarth :(, no 135hp Italian cute as a button missle. No 6spd manual. I was NOT looking forward to my lowly bottom of the line Punto diesel. I had to ask the guy in the parking garage where the car was. He pointed with his finger while reading the newspaper, it was obvious he was employee of the month. I stood there, waiting. He looked up and said, ti porto io, i take you... Rows and rows of cars, all more $$$ than I wanted to spend. $$$$$BMW 128's, $$$$MINI Cooper S's, $$$$Lancia's, $$$$Alfa's , my heart sinking with every step. Renault, Citroen's & Fiats of every description. And there it was, over yonder, my car for the next 2 weeks...err 13 days. As I walked closer there was something different about it amongst the other Fiats. It sat lower. Checked the ground, no, it was on level ground. All 4 tires had air, so no flats Then I saw the tailgate marking in small type: e....v..o. Holy s***, this thing's an EVO diesel. Wow!! While not as exclusive as the 500 Abarth, I wouldn't have thought a rental company would carry this model. Pretty exciting stuff...for a diesel. Smaller engine, less hp but way more torque, it should pull hard to redline. I thanked Grazia in my head and noted the serial # so I could check online in Collelongo.
(I was right, 1.3L Multi-jet turbo-diesel with 90hp, start/stop technology, firmer springs, sports steering wheel, slightly wider wheels, top speed on paper in excess of 210km/h). As i drove down out of the garage, i pulled to the side, plugged in my GPS, waited for the signal to lock and got "cannot locate satellite, try again?"
For f##k sakes, now what...
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