It was finally here, the time that Paul and I had planned to spend together working in Palermo.

This was something we had been planning for close to a year now, and I still cannot believe how quickly December was upon us. After seeing my family for Thanksgiving, it was time to jump on the plane and head to Sicily.

I had never flown across the ocean alone before, and this was about to be an adventure considering I was about 17 weeks pregnant at the time. I quickly decided to ditch the jeans and suited up in my favorite yoga pants for the redeye flight to Munich.

My flight to Rome - the only flight leaving Munich!!

First I flew from Green Bay to Chicago, then Chicago to Munich.

At the gate for my flight to Munich there were quite a few whisperings and people seemed concerned.

I don’t keep up with the news much, but apparently the Munich airport was under strike and a few flights were canceled the prior day due to the massive strike.

I just assumed these were just rumbles and rumors, and after loading up on some Starbucks goodies, we were boarding the plane.

Much to my appreciation, I was seated in a row of three chairs in economy plus, and not a soul joined me.

It was perfection: a whole row of seats for a transatlantic flight.

Shortly after a quick movie, I sprawled across the seats in all their glory and slept in fetal position the whole way.

Every once and a while I would get up to walk around, but that was about the extent of my flight.

It was perfect.

Bambino(a) made it across the sea!

When we landed in Munich the pilot got on the horn and informed us that the strike was still in full effect and the only plane leaving was one to Rome.

My tired brain didn’t truly comprehend this statement until I realized… I was going to Rome, and if I didn’t get there, I would have to find some alternative way to get me and all my luggage to Palermo.

I was flying to Palermo on Ryanair, a budget airline and a separate itinerary, meaning they could care less that the reason I couldn’t make it was due to a strike.

I continued to cross my fingers while walking across the empty airport to a single open gate with about 15 people waiting.

My luck was astonishing, and I attribute many of these small life victories to Joel’s presence. Someone pulled some strings, that’s for sure.

Celebratory dinner together!  We're finally here, and together!

Once I landed in Rome, I grabbed my luggage and checked back in on my flight to Palermo – one flight left, I could do it.

It was cramped as sardines, and I was head-bobbing like an idiot onto some strange man, but I made it.

All that was left after four separate flight connections was a bus ride into the unknown city of Palermo and attempting to find Paul’s small apartment on just a few hours of sleep.

Some how, I arrived in one piece and was greeted by the sweetest landlords who swept my into Paul’s apartment.

I showered and willed myself to stay awake until Paul’s arrival.

It was such a relief to see him walk through the door.

He was impressed that I clearly looked pregnant, since he hadn’t seen the “bambino bump”.

I couldn’t believe it.

Paul and I were going to be spending December together in Sicily – an opportunity of a lifetime.

 *****

Please take the time to join me at my new blog:

Alyce Jane, Living Simply