The end of a trip…sadness of leaving a new favorite corner of the world….happiness to be heading home. Despite the fact that I hate air travel (to be specific, I hate the hoops you have to go through at the airport), travel day is always exciting. We leave Lesa early in the morning and make the one hour drive to Malpensa. Surprisingly, there are no delays and we arrive to the exact location on the first try.

We booked a rental car from the main terminal so drop off would be easy. Oddly, the car agency didn’t open until 7:00 am. We have an early flight so we drop the keys in the drop box and hope for the best. We navigate up steps and through the terminal. Of course our airline is at the furthest possible location.

We arrive panting, only to find a long, long line into a back room where the American based airline counters are contained. I walk to the front of the line and around a corner and discover a board that says which passengers are allowed to enter the check in area. Our flight is eligible so I retrieve my husband and we skip the line. I try to tell as many people as possible which flights have entry, as many people were in line with no idea they were allowed in since they couldn’t see the entry board and were in line behind people who were waiting for a later flight.

Check in was easy, but we are directed downstairs and back across the entire airport to the U.S. security lines. Advanced technology allows us to leave everything in our bags. The security line is efficient and we are through in minutes. But now we have to walk the entire length of the airport for the third time to find our gate. We have now walked somewhere between three or four miles. My backpack is loaded with my computer and all the treasures acquired during our Italian holiday. It is heavy! We trudge on.

We arrive at the gate and sit. Our fellow passengers hack and cough like there is an epidemic. No one even bothers to cover their mouths. I retrieve our masks and we put them on. I have no intention of getting sick, especially since my sister in law got Covid on her flight home earlier in the week. The lady sitting next to me looks insulted that I have masked as she continues to cough. I ignore her sighs as I am not the problem in this scenario.

I settle into my seat after boarding for the long flight home. I don’t usually like window seats, but this plane has two seats side by side a window and an aisle. Normally we both claim an aisle seat but this is an unusual opportunity to sit together without someone stuck in the middle.

Before I know it, we are flying over the Alps. Just days ago, I was walking trails at Gornergrat. Today, I say farewell from the air. Different views, equally impressive. Soon we are over the water and I am searching for something to watch on in flight entertainment. Hundreds of choices and nothing looks appealing…perhaps a nap.

Before I know it, we are back in the USA. For the first time in a long time, we are met with smiling employees who welcome us home. They are calm, cheerful and helpful. The passport control agents are equally pleasant. I am happy to be home and even happier that our fellow passengers who are visitors are greeted with respect and courtesy.

The short flight home from Atlanta was over quickly. Our baggage came quickly and the shuttle was waiting at the curb. This may have been the easiest re-entry process within memory. We were in the truck and headed home without delay. The last hour is spent on the highway headed home. Each milestone is one step closer. My bed..my bathtub…my birds….my coffee pot……are calling. It is good to be home.