I slept well in Marco's room in 'Palace Locatelli', on the fourth floor of their house. Marco is everywhere in this house, he really was the adored son, and a great follower like his Dad, of AC Milan, the legendary Italian footy club. As well as Carlton, the Melbourne team, who sent them a knitted Carlton AFL scarf when Marco died. The wound is still there and Silvana is a lost soul without her boy. I met Polina his Russian bride last night. She is blonde, very pretty and very intelligent. She now has an Italian visa and is doing well thank you very much. I don't think she will be staying for much longer in the 'palace' however. There is still a lot of healing to be done. It is a very complex situation and I am happy to be now on my way to uncomplicated Helsinki, where I have an eight hour stopover. I may even get into the city, who knows.
Helsinki airport, nice trip. The passage through Fiumicino was as expected, an hour late. After arrival at eight I was checked in at nine. The staff was ever so casual, and even sent me through without so much as weighing my cabin baggage, which I knew was above the quoted limit of seven and a half kilos. But anyway I wanted to keep it with me, rolling a trolley is sometimes easier than carrying a back pack.
With another hour to wait I had a cappuccino and roll to assuage my hunger having had no breakfast at Silvana's. She had wanted to take me for the traditional coffee cornetto at their local bar, but Walter decided that it was better in peak hour to get straight to the airport, which I was happy to do although I did have an extra hour to wait.
Nearer the time for boarding I pick up my bag and find some chewing gum attached to the bottom, coming from the table where I had rested it. My final memory of Rome is a fitting one, as it is indeed one of the dirtiest cities I have experienced, although the Italians are the cleanest people I have met. Probably this is the reason, their outside is so dirty they know they have to be super clean in their homes. I then discover without announcing anything, that they have changed the departure gate, from gate six to gate three. Memories of Stansted flood back but no such walk thank goodness. I get there well in time.
Back in the Finnair plane I have a window seat and five talkative Japanese older women sit next to me. I put on my mask and blow up my neck pillow and try to sleep through their chatter. Although I have booked a vegetarian meal we are all served a big chicken sandwich which I am happy to nibble at, also a coffee which is quite good.
We are soon descending into clean Helsinki, and it is a breath of fresh air. I decide not to go into the city although I have seven hours to kill. Am just too tired to go thorough security and catch the bus and be back for an eleven o'clock boarding. So at least I have time to finish my Italian blog. Which I will do in the next post. Btw, Helsinki airport is very accommodating, but expensive, and has free wifi, unlike most other airports including Sydney and Melbourne, which charge for the privilege. I think it is a very civilised country and am a bit sad I didn't have more time to discover it. Next time it may be Scandinavia, there'll be no more Italy I'm afraid, see my impressions about this in my next blog.
So I buy some Finnish chocolate and have an orange juice and sit and watch the Finns playing travel games!
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