Now, Verona in itself is not a super exciting travel destination since it's quite small (compared to most well-known Italian cities) and despite of what our Eurovision-contestants think, it's quite difficult to get lost there because it's just not that big. Honestly, if you get lost in Verona, you're doing something wrong. Get a map! But, I digress. The reason I went there is because, every year there's this huge opera festival in Verona, where they perform famous operas in the old Roman amphitheater. My mom once told me that she'd always wanted to go and see an opera there so, once I realized I had no plans for my vacation, I asked if she wanted to head there this summer. She did and so we got the tickets, the hotel and got on our way.We were in Verona for about four days. That was all we needed. Don't get me wrong - Verona is absolutely lovely and I enjoyed my time there but there's not that much to do there. We spent the first day checking out some Roman ruins, an old fort, a bunch of churches and stuff and there was still time to spare. At lunch we usually returned to the hotel to have a nap because it was simply too hot outside. Oh yes, I forgot to mention that this was the beginning of August during the hottest Summer in ages (at least in Estonia). It was 33-34 degrees outside and always sunny. Great, right? Well, to be honest, it wasn't that bad. Somehow, the heat in Italy was less excruciating than in Estonia and even though we went everywhere on foot, it was still somehow bearable... until it wasn't.
My mom and I decided to go see Aida during the festival (because it was one of the few performances still being held in August). The show itself started pretty late, around 21ish, due to the fact that it was hot as hell during the day and it's impossible to air-condition an amphitheater. So, we get to our seats just as it was getting dark outside and the stage looks amazing, the props are impressive, the costumes flashy and... It. Is. Just.SO. HOT!!! I'm not kidding. Even before the show started, I could tell it was going to be bad, because I'm sitting in what is basically a huge bowl with a few hundred people surrounding me and the air is just completely still. Not even a light breeze. Not even a breath of air! Just hot, still, heavy air slowly suffocating me.The show starts. The singers are exceptional. The costumes beautiful. The mass-scenes and dancers are breathtaking... and all I can think about is the heat. There is sweat running down my back. I feel like I'm stuck under a blanket, breathing in second-hand air. It is still 33-degrees outside. 33! And it's dark! And it's still hell! Now, those who know me well, know that I hate the heat. I can't stand it! Nothing makes me want to kill myself quite like the heavy, humid Summer heat. And now I'm at the opera, trying to enjoy a genuinely good performance, but it's impossible because even my cold, dead heart is beginning to decay in this heat. I am not religious but during those three hours, I got the distinct feeling that the gates of Hell had opened under the amphitheater and that's why it felt like death there. The whole time I kept praying for the opera to be over soon, not because it was bad, but because I felt like stroking out in that heat. So, long story short: I had some difficulty enjoying the performance... even though it was good.
Now, despite the excruciating heat, I did enjoy my trip to Verona. It's a lovely little city, clean, less crowded than most tourist spots, the food was mind-blowing and the people pretty polite and friendly. It was a great trip... up until the last day(s). Then it all went to shit. And it was all because of the Germans! A few posts ago I talked about my trip to New York in January and how it ended in a snowy shitstorm that left our flights cancelled and our minds broken. Guess what happened this time! My flight got cancelled! AGAIN!The last day started out great. We went to the airport nice and early, had breakfast and coffee, got on our plane and next thing we knew, we were in Frankfurt, where we were supposed to have a connecting flight to Tallinn. We had a few hours to kill before our next flight so my mom and I decided to sit down in a little bar, have some beer and maybe a snack. We'd been sitting there for maybe half an hour when a server told everyone in the bar to leave because, apparently, the terminal was being evacuated. Yep. The whole terminal. And since it was Frankfurt, it was a pretty damn big terminal. So, we got our things and joined the crowd heading out of the terminal, making short stops on the way because we still had no idea what was going on. The server hadn't told us anything other than they were closing and we needed to leave the area. The biggest crowds were heading toward the exits but some were coming back. We had no idea what was going on because there were no announcements, no employees directing us out - nothing! After about half an hour of slowly inching our way toward the exits while utterly confused, some airport employees did appear and started directing us out. The evacuation was real. After getting out of the terminal, we stood in the main area and tried to figure out what was going on. There were cops going into the terminal, airport employees talking to each other but still no real information. I started having flashback to New York but tried to stay positive. After all, we still had three hours to our flight. We could make it, right?
Two hours later...
Yes, for two hours we just stood there, not knowing anything, staring longingly at the terminal gates that were still closed and getting more tired and nervous by the minute. Finally, after two hours, something started happening. Employees started gathering around the security gates. 'Great!' I thought, 'Things are moving along!' But they weren't. We were still standing there. They were still denying us information and people were getting more anxious about missing their flights. Another half an hour passed before we got a little bit of information: the 'threat' had been 'dealt with' and we could re-enter the terminal... after passing the security check, again. If you've ever been in the airport in Frankfurt, you know how many people pass through there, daily. It's a freaking armada of people! Imagine all the people whose flights were supposed to leave in those two and a half hours plus all the people who'd come to the airport early, not knowing what was going on, and you have several hundred people - angry, tired, dehydrated, confused and hungry - queuing for the slowest security check in the history of the world. The employees tried to calm us by saying that there was no need to rush because 'your flight will either wait or you will be rebooked on another flight'. Right. Just a friendly tip: that doesn't happen. Nobody waits for you, nobody rebooks you just like that. You need to do everything on your own...
So, of course the line for the security check was basically static. Only half of the security gates were operational and - to add insult to injury - after about half an hour of working, the employees had their lunch break. That meant that they locked the gates again, leaving us to wait. Again. Of course they did, though: they were Germans. If protocol says employees get a break every few hours, then common sense and human decency be damned! By that time we hadn't had anything to eat or drink in about four hours, which wouldn't be an issue otherwise, but add some stress and anxiety and you get a bunch of angry people. Our flight should have left by that time but we'd received no notification of whether it had been delayed or cancelled or what... So we stood in line and waited for our security check. It took us about an hour to get through it and when we did, we were faced with another line. A line of hundreds of people, queueing for the Lufthansa information desk to rebook their flights that they missed. Because, like I said, nobody rebooks you automatically. You need to deal with it on your own. Our flight had been cancelled, of course, so we queued up and started losing our minds because there was nothing better to do.
We stood in line for maybe forty minutes before our tired and angry brains started working again and we remembered something important: in New York we didn't have to go to a desk or wait in line. We called. So, we decided to try that again. We called Lufthansa customer service while standing in line for Lufthansa customer service... It worked. In five minutes we were booked on the next flight to Estonia, which was going to leave next morning. Good enough. I still had some vacation days to spend so I wasn't too worried. Mom had a harder time but she managed somehow. After getting the tickets we booked a room and headed to the airport hotel for some much needed rest. And wine. Lots of wine...
I have never been to Frankfurt. Never seen the city. There was the opportunity to explore it that day, seeing as we had almost a day until our new flight. We decided against it. I know it's not Frankfurt's fault that our flight got cancelled. The city didn't do anything wrong. But as god is my witness, I will never willingly go to Frankfurt again! Ever! It is a cancer on the face of the planet! Oh, and as to what happened to cause such chaos in the airport? Apparently, some German security check douche fucked up. As far as I understand, someone tested positive for explosives and the security guy just didn't notice and let that person pass. Once someone noticed, they needed an evacuation. Oh, and before you freak out, it was a false positive. Nobody in that terminal had any explosives on them or around them. And for that, they messed up the plans of several hundred people. Just because Günther didn't have his morning bratwurst and felt faint or something.
I apologise to any Germans I've offended but I think it's pretty clear I'm still salty about this whole ordeal. It wasn't just what happened that got to me. It was the fact that it happened twice in a row. It's like falling from a horse, getting back in the saddle and then getting punched in the face by the horse's brother (yes, I am aware horses don't 'punch'). Two traumatic travel experiences in a row. I swear, at one point while standing in that line, I swore to myself I would never fly again. Never travel again. Never leave my apartment again!
But, all is well that ends well, I guess... except that it isn't. I still hate Frankfurt with a vengeance and a vacation that was 90% amazing still left a bad taste in my mouth. Moral of the story: never go to Frankfurt.
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