Almost to Rome

Buon giornio my friends!  Good day indeed.  Now that I've arrived in Rome, it's time you experienced what I have as well.  If there's anywhere that promotes the lifestyle of just VASGO, it's here in Rome.  So let's start from the beginning.

Now close your eyes, slow down your thoughts, breathe deeply and let your aura slip away from your body.  Step into my shoes.

You arrive at the airport after a two hour drive.  You stand in line for awhile to get your tickets.  You've just had TSA explain to you that this is the last time you will be able to touch or see your animals until you arrive at your destination.  Now this is not really a good thing to hear, especially if you are attached to your animals, but you grudgingly accept that you have no power over the situation and watch them take your loved pets away.  20 hours to go.  At least you're not stuck in a cage.  Then again, you realize your "cage" is just bigger.

Through security you go and after that comes an urgency to call as many people as you can to say goodbye since Sprint doesn't have cheap service in Italy.  Hold back as many emotions as possible, particularly those with your immediate family and finally it's time to board the plane.

Six or eight hours go by, snap a quick photo of the sunrise and you land.  Welcome to Copenhagen!

You are impressed with how many wind energy farms are visible from the airport, those giant pinwheels steadily rotating second after second.  On the way to your next gate, you are people watching while passing the cafes and notice two older gentlemen enjoying their light gold colored bubbly beverages and tell yourself- color is good, no haze, even from a distance you can see the carbonation, geography makes sense - must be a pilsner beer.  But you are no expert, so you withdraw and tell yourself - could be a lager too.

Then you look down and realize it's 7:30am Danish time.  A quick thought passes through your mind... well, when in Rome.  But this is Copenhagen.  It's not time for a beer.

Four hours go by and it's time to board the plane to Rome.  The pop tarts aren't sitting well in your stomach and you can barely keep your eyes open.  The second you sit in your seat, you pass out from travel exhaustion.  Two hours later, you wake up right before the plane lands.

Finally, the worst of the travel is over!  But it's not over 'til it's over, you remind yourself.  You mentally prepare for the customs troubles.  Bringing animals across the ocean must be a terrible pain.  Bringing 8 pieces of luggage on top of that must be even worse to bring through customs.  You envision being asked to step to the side so they can go through all your belongings, check the veterinary forms you had to send to the Department of State back home to verify with an official apostille that your cats are healthy and in good working order, no diseases, etc.  You can only imagine the questions you will be asked about your stay and why you are even trying to enter the country.

So you take a deep breath, wait for your luggage, get your cats, put all on a luggage trolley and make your way to the customs line.

It's short.  Too short.  You can choose which line to go through, items to declare or no items to declare.  We ask the guard if we have to declare our cats.  To my surprise, he says no and to continue right through.  That can't be right.  Continuing right through leads to the exit.  But after 20 hours, you aren't about to question anyone, so you just keep walking with your gear and kitties.  You sense a couple guards look at you as you reach the exit, but you refuse to make eye contact.  And then... it's all over.

Negotiate a price, take a taxi, benvenuti a Roma!  Welcome to Rome!

And of course, a little teaser to help you come back for more.  From the first day out in Rome... I promise you it tasted as good as it looks.