After last summer's travel suitcase shenanigans (thanks, BA!), I still thought the city was a charmer. And so when my friend Kat wanted to 'give Italy a try' (she's never been), I suggested we start in this charming city in Southernmost Emilia-Romagna.
We booked flights with BA and did our travel research. We got in touch with my friend Victoria in Florence to schedule some extended time for a catch up. I booked hotels, train tickets. I followed advice from a travel influencer I follow and booked a food tour with Streaty, a local tour company that offers a fascinating glimpse into the culinary world of Italy's major cities; Kat booked tickets to the Uffizi.
And then we rocked up at the airport, keen to depart knowing that BA had suffered a 'technical glitch' the day before, cancelling hundreds of flights. Our flight registered as 'delayed' by 30 minutes but by the time we got to the airport it was 'on time.'
But it was not meant to be. We went to the gate. And sat at the gate. And five minutes before they announced it, Kat checked her phone to see that our flight had been cancelled. The announcement came: 'the runway at Bologna airport has been closed.' Except it hadn't. Flights were still landing.
And so we sat our mopey asses for another hour at the departure gate while we waited for airport security to walk us back through the secured part of the terminal. And we waited our mopey asses at passport control only to find out the e-gates had broken nationwide. And we moped our mopey asses all the way back to my flat, arriving home around midnight to pick up the pieces of our long weekend gone wrong.
BA booked us on the next available flight, a flight over 48-hours later. And so we cancelled our trip, forfeited our bookings and pored through my travel insurance policy. It turns out that mine covers 'technical difficulties and weather-related disruptions' only. To cover 'other' disruptions, I needed to have added the premium package. Only I hadn't read that particular fine print.
After a 6am fight with the airline, a long moping debrief and a longer sleep, we picked ourselves up and attempted to claim travel compensation. Then, in true rallying fashion, we had Italian Day in London--Hugo spritzes in the piazza (okay, Newington Green); a slight sunburn; rooftop day drinking; a bit of shopping; and pizza and gelato for dinner. It was nice. But not as nice as Italy.
Life lesson learned other than the fact that life lessons always seem to be so freaking expensive... Read the fine print. And never fly BA again.
We're regrouping and trying again in the August bank holiday. We're also flying Ryanair.
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