The trip that wasn't... well, yet, anyway

So we're off to Paris, right? wake up at 4:30am, troop over to the train station on foot because no buses run at that hour, and get on a shuttle to Pisa, where we're supposed to catch our flight. Hour on the bus, check in, get to the gate, and wait.

And wait.

And wait some more. Now they're changing the departure time, ten minutes each time.

So we wait. Then they tell us the flight will be delayed another hour, and our 9:30 takeoff is scheduled for 12:30. So we find a cafe and grab a sandwich.

Then the announcement comes. Flight's been cancelled due to fog--it's on the ground in another city. Then the fun REALLY begins.

No easyJet people at the airport. And they won't talk to us on their customer service line--they tell us to go to the main ticketing counter at the airport (staffed by airport employees who ticket all airlines). The staff there are getting yelled at, and they can't do anything. So we call again. All we can get is a flight out tomorrow morning... the last two seats.

So we get back on the bus, arriving in Florence at about 2:00pm. And we can't get our money back on the pre-booked hotel. Grr. One day down the drain.

We'll try again tomorrow, and we'll be happy about it, come hell or high water. By the way, in case anyone is reading this journal and wondering about the non-sequitur feeling you get as I jump around in time, it isn't that you're losing your mind. I rarely get a chance to post blogs on trips, and when I come back I end up in an eternal state of catch-up on many things, with blogs tending to drift down toward the bottom of the pile. Just keep checking, and things will fall into place. I promise.

Cheers,
Leanne