The only thing that makes the trip home mildly bearable is remembering that the trip was everything you wanted it to be. Could you do more? Is there more available? The answer will always be yes. But that’s why we travel.

Our last day had a number of places where things could go wrong. We had to catch a very early, 5:40am, train to Milan from Venice. We needed a ride from the train station to Milan Linate for our flight to London. And by the way, we needed to make sure we had airline tickets. All that said, we knew that by the time we were at the British Airways counter at Linate, we’d have a clear picture for the rest of our day. So, baby steps.

Up at 4:00am to shower and pack last minute items to ensure we made the train. If we missed that train, our whole day was shot because there was no other way to make our flight.

This crew was awesome. We said we had a drop dead time of departure from the hotel of 5:15am for the five minute walk to the Venice train station. The Keating girls were already in the lobby when Michelle and I got there at 4:55 to check us out of the four room. Next were our girls followed by the adult Keatings. Everyone was present by 5:10am. Awesome start.

On the walk we have to cross a bridge. So as if rolling your suitcase across cobbled walkways a few hundred years old isn’t bad enough, carry your suitcases up and over the stairs on the bridge makes it more fun. During the day you can watch all sorts of people struggle to cross. You might even see someone scammed with a “pay me and I’ll carry your bag over” line who then takes the bag and runs. Always best to carry yourself or ask someone you know for help. But we had the bridge to ourselves. Which meant it was likely to be a competition. The smart money would usually be on Rylie with me finishing second. But clearly college is making her soft and weak. I was carrying Michelle’s suitcase, the heaviest of the group, and Caroline’s, big but not super heavy. And I still beat her. It was close. But I’m taking the W.

However. My celebration was short lived. While in the empty train station, I tried to be funny like a Chloe and ride around sitting on my suitcase and went right over backwards. Nothing broken except my pride, but fortunately, by some small miracle, no one was videoing. We all had a good laugh before boarding the train.

The day was off to a great start.

On the two and half hour train ride everyone got a little sleep. I got only a very little due to continuously running through potential issues and corrections for what may lay ahead of us. A small surprise during the ride was the receipt of a WhatsApp message from our driver in Milan introducing himself and dropping a pin to his parking location. He was at the station 20 minutes early. Perfect. Check another box.

We arrived and walked out into the freezing Milan air and found Achmed right were he said. He loaded our bags and expertly navigated us through light Saturday morning traffic to Linate. As we got closer I could feel my heart rate growing. The tickets were still a bit of a question mark.

Overnight, we had all received emails from BA that we could check in online. But we couldn’t. We all had to verify passport information and did COVID status, but even after I received an error that there was a problem with my ticket. Super confusing.

We went into the airport and I headed straight for the BA Preferred line. Executive Platinum status on American translates to Emerald for One World, the same as BA’s highest level and give you all their top tier benefits. I was expecting to need their customer service to get this to work.

When the agent first saw our crew of eight she wasn’t excited. She asked politely if I had preferred status to be in that line, I’m guessing my comfortable pants and zipper hoodie weren’t screaming “high value customer.”

I said good morning in Italian and handed her all eight passports, open to the right pages, trying to do my best to make the right first impression and seems like I’ve done this as many times as I have without tipping her off to my anxiety that we may not actually have tickets. Adding to that was my real need to keep my wife from going to jail in case she physically assaulted this woman, and keeping Chloe from leveling a soul crushing verbal attack that would land her on a permanent no fly list and this poor woman in therapy for the remainder of her days.

When she swiped the first Passport, Bridget’s, she developed a puzzled look. Stared at the screen and mumbled to herself in Italian. She started clicking and typing and mumbling. The line behind the crazy Americans was starting to grow. The supervisor showed up checking on things. She was a very professional looking Italian woman who spoke flawless English with almost no accent. At least there were now two BA reps present with whom I could have a direct conversation.

The agent said something to the supervisor in Italian that I understood about us to mean that someplace through our trip to Italy either American Airlines or BA had messed something up and that she’d never seen anything like it. Not a good sign. The supervisor looked down with a very stern and puzzled look, shook her head, and diverted her attention to the line backing up behind us. I moved the rest of our group basically out of the line to save space, and she thanked me. She would’ve been less excited has she noticed that those still next to me, Michelle, Chloe, and Gio the litigator, were likely waiting in reserve for the chance to pounce.

And then it happened. I saw the agent right down a long sequence of numbers and then “Bridget” next to it. Then she wrote another sequence, and another, but with no names. They were ticket numbers. I started to realize there was hope. She looked up at me and smiled and told me that somehow we’d always had tickets but on our return flight our names had been dissociated from them, that was why neither airline knew what was going on. She told me she had to manually assign us each to our tickets, validate Passports and addresses, and then we’d be good. I finally felt better. We had two hours to flight time, more than enough for this and clearing security to make our flight.

As she was going through, she was placing Passports back on the counter in front of me for the people she had completed. But occasionally she’d drop one off to the side. The supervisor kept checking in with her, they’d exchange quick comments in hushed Italian, and then back to work. Finally I was told that there four Passports the system wouldn’t scan, all belonging to my family. My first thought was, good, at least we can get the Keatings home. But after a few attempts, Rylie’s worked. Then Chloe’s. Then Michelle’s. And finally mine. There was no explanation or understanding about why. The agent did share that there had been problems the last few days.

I couldn’t thank her enough and she became smiley and chatty while checking the bags. She seemed pleased when I sincerely expressed gratitude in Italian with “Grazie mille.”

As she handed over the boarding passes and claim checks, the group was happy and realized, a renewed sense of confidence hitting everyone. But there were a couple issues. We had lost our seat assignments. Class of service was retained, so thankfully preferred economy for the 11 hour flight from Heathrow to Las Vegas. But we were all over the place and back of the plane from Milan to London. Not the end of the world; we could switch seats or do whatever to stay together or keep the kids together if needed. But. I had a boarding pass with the dreaded “SSSS”.

For anyone who has ever been through the 4S process at Heathrow it’s a bit unnerving. It means you’ve been randomly marked for a more thorough security screening. I find the random concept here funny. Having flown through Heathrow maybe a dozen times, I’ve only ever received the 4S’s while traveling with my family. Never when I’ve been alone. Apparently me being with three women, all of whom are too good looking to actually be associated with me as spouse and children, is a flag. But on my own, I’m okay.

Our flight was delayed a couple hours, not the end of the world. We gorged ourselves on snacks from Pret and Itsu and WH Smith while we waited.

Once we got to the gate, I was called fairly quickly for my additional screening. I was taken to the basement area of the gate and swabbed. Hands. Face. Arms. Lower legs. Shirt. Stomach. Belt. Unpacked bag. Swabbed contents. Phone. iPad. Power up and show that they work. It was very similar to same screenings that were completed right after 9/11. Obviously everything was fine, but they held me below and had me board from there with the others who’d been selected.

Once on board one of the the ground power units for the A350 wasn’t working so there was no A/C. And it was HOT on the plane. The captain kept apologizing and letting us know if would be fine once airborne. We all got settled in, sitting as close to each other as possible. Michelle and I got to sit together, Rylie one row ahead of me, and Chloe one ahead of her. All was good. We even had one of Chloe’s favorite teachers coincidentally next to us. Soon after we got away from gate and using the engines, the plane cooled down and people got comfortable.

It was a long 11 hours home. But mostly uneventful. Everyone slept. I only got a couple hours. The girls slept a lot. The power outlets didn’t work. And not everyone had charged everything overnight so external batteries were being used when needed. But the flight was smooth and comfortable. Food was good. Service was on par with a premium BA cabin.

We landed back home at about 9:20 pm local time, about 5am Italian time. We’d been traveling for a solid 24 hours but we’re still happy. Customs was a breeze, as it usually is in Las Vegas, and Keatings made it through the regular process almost as quickly as we did using Global Entry. Everything worked out.

This was a great experience. We had a fantastic time and really enjoyed the trip. Lots of conversations about “next time” and “lessons learned,” but absolutely no regrets.

I’m already looking forward to the next big trip. Which is only about three weeks away. Stay tuned…