A Change of Scenery is Nice, A Change of Clothes Even Better

For anyone concerned about the citizens of Lucca (or us) because we were on our third day wearing the same clothes while waiting for our luggage to be found and delivered, you can relax.  We received our luggage at 5 p.m. yesterday afternoon, some 54 hours after we arrived.

We are apparently the Ike and Tina Turner of travelers. On their version of the Creedence Clearwater Revival song, “Proud Mary,” they said they didn’t do anything “nice and easy” but rather “nice, and rough.”  We seem to be condemned to doing things “nice, and rough.”

The Alitalia baggage office promised to have the luggage delivered to our apartment when it showed up, but mentioned that the limitations on traffic inside the walls of Lucca might make it impossible for a courier to deliver the bags to our door.  When we learned on Tuesday that the bags were in Pisa, we were told that the courier would deliver them in the morning.

Shelley was up early (both of us are sleeping somewhat fitfully), and knowing that the bell for the apartment building doesn’t work, she opened the windows and listened for the courier.  A couple of hours later, she received an e-mail from the airport saying that the courier had tried to deliver the bags, had called the phone number of the apartment owner and gotten no answer, and had returned the bags to the airport.  The airline would not pay for a second attempt, so we would have to arrange to pick them up.

Getting the bags was the number one priority for the day, and I had mentally accepted the fact that we would spend a good part of the day going to and from the airport.  Shelley thought the owner of the apartment should take responsibility, given that the bell doesn’t work and he didn’t answer his phone when the courier called.  At first, we couldn’t contact him, but he finally returned her e-mail.  He had received a call at 7:03 while still asleep, had “accidentally” hung upl while trying to answer it, then called back to no response.  He promised to get them delivered to us.

I set a 4 p.m. as the deadline where we would have to go to the airport ourselves.  Shortly before 4 the owner of the apartment said that he was on the way to Pisa to get the bags and would be back in an hour.  And, sure enough, he was.

We’re here, the bags are here, and now the vacation can officially start—after I shower and change.