Jet Lag

I love to travel.  But as we approached the Salt Lake airport, I expressed some aprehension about leaving...a feeling that left myself a little confused, because by any standard, six weeks of paragliding and touring in and around the Alps sounds pretty good.  My lovely wife, Tammy, nailed it by explaining that it was because international travel is hard work.  Twenty-four hours on airplanes and in airports is a pain; a chore really no one looks forward to.  I was certain my luggage would be lost (again) and that I would be miserable...totally a "glass half full" mentality.  Enduring the trials of international travel is a relative concept and after all, as I could be traveling second class in the bowels of slave ship in the 17th century (I'm convinced that I did just that in a former life).  After scolding myself for the bad attitude, I resolved to make the journey a fun and rewarding experience.  

Things were going surprisingly well until I noticed the second leg of the trip included...a MIDDLE SEAT on a 9 hour flight from Chicago to Frankfurt!  Yes, to this fussy traveler, this unfortunate event comes a close second to stepping in fresh dog shit with waffle soled shoes just before I walk across my own new carpet...makes me a bit grumpy.  I could envision being helplessly sandwiched between two brutes named Bubba and Merle, coming in at a whopping 340 pounds each...with hygene problems.  Over reaction, you say?  Yes, if this scenario has not been played out before...but alas, it has...just as losing my luggage on a paragliding trip is a true story.  But such worry proved to be unfounded, as I was placed between two semi-petite Jordanian women, who themselves were likely disappointed to be seated next to such a gruesome specimen as myself. 

Streatched out asleep on a boarding area bench at the Frankfurt airport,  the little small travel voice in my head woke me up as they were finishing up boarding for the flight to Venice.  With no one at the gate to scan my boarding pass, I helped myself to the scanner and wished myself a pleasant flight as I went through the entry gate.  

Giddy with a window seat, I got a clear view of the Austrian and Italian Alps before we started the decent to Venice...hmmm, we think WE have mountains in Utah...ha!, not like this...awsome is an over used, but entirely appropriate word to describe these mountains.   And Venice looked quite small, and quite wet, as we landed nearby.

After paying 15 Euros ($21) for a one minute cab ride to my hotel (note again the title of the Blog).  I settled into the modest hotel and anxious to sample the Italian food in the adjacent restaurante.  Outcome:  Lasagne scored a D+, but the wine rated an A-.

Today I met up with the paragliding group, an ensemble of 3 Argentines and 5 Americans, and travelled by van from Venice to the town of Kobarid, Slovenia...more accurately, the village of Dresnica just outside.  More about the area later, but so far, all the wonderful things I've heard about the scenery, culture, and ambiance of the area seem to be true.     

With the weather forcast to be a bit sketchy tomorrow, we are heading back west to Italy in the morning to beat the storm and fly at a low altitude site before the weather turns sour...things look better, weatherwise, for later in the week for Slovenia.