We had restored the house and packed the night before: everyone had to be on their way early. Our car, with the two of us plus Ariel and Daniel, along with Andrew, Emily, and the boys had to be underway by 7 AM for the almost two-hour drive to Milan Malpensa; Sarah, Dan, and the girls left an hour later to pick up Dan’s brother Josh for a weekend on Lago di Garda (Josh is a prosecutor at the International Criminal Court in The Hague).
All went smoothly: out of the house on time, no hitches on the drive, dropped everyone at the terminal, returned the car, found the group in the terminal, and waited for Andrew to return his car. And waited…and waited. He had somehow made a wrong turn and ended up at Terminal Two before realizing his error and finding the correct drop-off.
This produced a significant amount of agida: the checkin counter for United closes a full 75 minutes before the scheduled takeoff, so we helped Emily with the bags and the boys and started the checkin process for their mountains of baby gear. Andrew arrived just as we were finishing, and we all sprinted to security, where we were told we might not make the flight; then down an interminable corridor to passport control, where we breezed through the automated “biometric” line, while they waited in the regular line; and then on the dead run to the gate, which we hoped to hold open for the others if need be. But we all made it, a bit worse for the wear.
It was a long flight for Andrew and Emily, with two wiggly boys and two adults in three seats. By chance, Sue and I were in the row immediately ahead, so we could help a bit.
In Newark, we ran through Global Entry while they waited in the family line; we were able to have all their baggage on a cart by the time they came down, and we were soon helping them into their Uber. After the usual ride on NJ Transit and a cab, we were home by 5:30.
It had been a memorable and extremely varied trip. The walk was glorious; London intermittently joyous and stressful; and Italy an unadulterated pleasure.