Rome and Podere San Giovanni, Sunday, June 28, 2026
It turns out that Ryan Air isn’t so bad for a short hop. But, at least at Berlin’s new airport, you’re made to feel your budget choice every step of the way. Terminal 2, from which the cheapies fly, can’t be reached by car or taxi; offers access only by several flights of steps; and has a bare bones interior. Our bags were a bit too large for the carrier’s extremely restrictive carry-on requirements, so we checked our spinners…and found the conveyor belts that carry your bags into the maw of the airport were at a standstill. Twenty minutes later…away they went! At the gate, “priority” passengers are allowed to stand in a waiting area for twenty more minutes before boarding. And onboard were waiting the narrowest, least padded seats since Iceland Air, aka Hippie Airlines, in 1970. But, as a German passenger said: “Never again…until I want to save 200 Euros per ticket.”
Two scant hours later we landed at Fiumicino…and began a very frustrating couple of hours, waiting forever for checked bags (something we’re no long used to) and then trying to get a cab or uber to our hotel, a mere 10 minutes away. After chasing an Uber driver back and forth between terminals in the 100 degree heat, we finally landed a ride.
And for the umpteenth time in a month, we were treated to a diatribe against immigrants. This was a highly intelligent, well-read guy, which is the especially scary part.
The Rome Airport Inn was a very pleasant surprise: a small family run hotel with warm, welcoming service and beautiful modern rooms. We were happy campers. Dinner was at