Part1 of "I'm in Italy, no, I'm in Saudi, no, I'm back in Italy"...

Where do I start? The beginning's usually a good point, so I'll do that...

I left Shit Towne, en route to Torino, Italia, for the start of a three-week project initiation stint. This project, I've been told, is going to last between 4 and 6 months, so it looks like I'm going to miss most of the SA summer. At least I'll get some over the Xmas holiday break when we'll be going down to my folks for a few days.

The flight to Turin was via Frankfurt, ten and a half hours to there, literally right over the top of Turin. If they'd given me a parachute, it would have saved me the three hour wait in Frankfurt and the flight back to Turin. Fuckin' travel agents...probably don't know where Turin is...

Anyway, a reasonably short taxi ride into Turin and into the Hotel Diplomatic. It's smack in the centre of town, just off the main shopping drag. The room is sizable enough, with a double bed just for me and place to hang my stuff. The shower, on the other hand is not big enough for a cat, let alone space to swing it around in. If I stand with my back against the wal and extend my knee outwards, there's two inches from my knee to the wall. Small? It's so small I have to use only one arm to wash my hair cos I can't lift both arms at the same time for fear of getting my elbows stuck in the corners and having to pull the emergency rip-cord for maintenance to come and pry me out. Anyway, back to the story...

I don't sleep well in a strange bed on the first couple of nights so by the time the third night comes along, I'm knackered. On top of it all, I'm only in Turin for four nights then I'm off to Saudi Dryland again for a few days. The government there is going off on a two week holiday from the 12th December and CC, my host, wanted to get the presentation of the reports I did, out of the way before they all bugger off. It's not actually a holiday in Saudi, but with the Hajj happening there over that period, government literally comes to a standstill as thousands of people pour in for their pilgrimage. Being typically lazy, the Saudi's would rather get the hell out of Dodge while the people are around and take a few days to chill out.

On the Thursday afternoon, I take the train down to Milan for an overnight in the local Holiday Inn before flying out of Linate airport to Saudi. I figured I'd take a late afternoon train so that I could still see some of the countryside during the day, which is supposed to be worth it. Ha-fuckin'-ha!! The train leaves an hour and a quarter late, so by the time we get out of Turin it's pitch fuckin' dark outside and I can't see further than the road winding its way alongside the tracks. On top of it all, in Turin station I have an argument with an arrogant fuckin' train jockey. I see on the board that the train is going to be "30 minutes" late and go into the Information office to find out what platform it's supposed to be leaving from. Jockey tells me "no train, 30 minutes late" to which I say "I see that, but can you tell me which platform it's going to leave from?" to which he says "no train, 30 minutes late" to which I say "I see that, but can you tell me which platform it's going to leave from?"...you get the picture. Eventually, I point to the monitor in the office and ask "Which platform? Where is the platform column?" to which he takes me outside, points to the big board and says "No platform, 30 minutes late". At this, he mumbles something to some other Italians standing around, from which all I catch is the word "American". So I say to him, "Is the 'Binari' where the train leaves from?" and he says "Si, binari". I'm a little pissed off by now and I walk right next to him and say "Thanks, that's all I wanted to fuckin' know. And by the way, I'm not American, you little cunt, I'm a Scotsman!" and walk off into the crowd.

I wander around the station a while, all the while feeling the temperature dropping as evening closes in. Due to the marble and sandstone construction of the place, it's really getting cold for the jacket I have with me but there's not much I can do about it. The "binari" number comes up on the board and I make a dash for the relative warmth of the coach. The trip is uneventful, seeing as it's dark by the time we get out of Turin. In Milan Centro station, I get a taxi to take me to the Linate Holiday Inn and get checked in around 8pm. A quick dinner (half a dozen lamb chops and a small salad) and a 350ml bottle of Chianti to myself and it's time for bed. This time I doze off pretty quick and am amazed at how quick time flies before the alarm goes off at four fifteen for me to get showered and a taxi to the airport for my 7am flight.

The flight to Saudi is also via Frankfurt and the airport is absolutely massive. It could easily take 30mins to walk from one end of a terminal to the other, though it's not quite as big as Dubai. At least the flight to Saudi is direct from Frankfurt with no long stopover in Dubai. Lufthansa are one of the few airlines that are allowed to fly directly into Riyadh and their service is fantastic. Typical German efficiency, except for leaving a little late. The hostesses are friendly, ready to help or bring you whatever you need. All with a smile. Just the beer was a little disappointing...too sweet. But the cognac at the end of the lunch meal was a nice touch to end it off.

I'm in the usual Intercontinental Hotel in Riyadh and my driver, Siraj, gets me there with a smile this time, instead of his usual scowl even though I've had to drag him out of home on a virtual Sunday evening. The hotel has put me in one of their cabanas next to the pool and it's nice, though the floor is a little cold. The outside temperature is around 20deg and it's amazing how cold it feels compared to the 40-odd of just a month or so ago.

Into the office on Saturday (virtual Monday) morning, I meet with CC and we go through the presentation content. Aside from that, I'm left to my own devices and just potter about on my laptop, looking convincingly busy. I also meet with CC's boss, who is the sponsor from our side. He has a couple of suggestions for the presentation content which is fine by me, seeing as it's just cosmetic and which will make them look good to the client. The Saudi's are very political and easily offended by the way some words are put to them, so the cosmetic changes were all in the name of diplomacy. Me, I'm the worst diplomat in the world. If something needs said, I say it. I don't have the desire in me to butter things up just to make them sound nice. Call a spade a spade, I say...

On Sunday morning, I get into the client office early and meet up with Ahmed the Dead Terrorist to discuss some more changes he wants made to the document I produced for them. This akes us a couple of hours in the end, but it's fine as I'm not doing anything else and would probably just end up stressing before the presentation cos I'm not the most calm before such a meeting. The presentation is at 13h00 and was expected to go on for about 2hrs, pending questions from the client sponsor. In the end, we closed after just an hour, me having told them (in a nice enough way) that they have a lot of problems that they need to take care of to reduce the risks they face.

After the meeting, CC's boss decides to take us to lunch at the hotel I'm staying in, and I end up packing my stuff and checking out earlier than the expected 6pm. I went back to the compound with CC and, together with his wife, we went for a meal at the compound restaurant, before I got my drive back to the airport at 22h30. My flight was only at 1am, but the airport's always busy and it's good to get through customs early. And what a useless bunch of fuckers they are. I had checked my overnight bag into the hold on the way out of Frankfurt cos I managed to get it shrinkwrapped, but there's no such facility at Riyadh. As a result, I had to take my laptop and overnight bags on as hand luggage and, according to the aviation rules these days should not have been allowed to take my Swiss Army knife into the cabin with me. Needless to say, Riyadh the airport police didn't even blink an eyelid at it.

Not until I got to Zurich airport did I get some trouble. Not because of the knife though...this was Switzerland and they like Swiss Army knives there and let it go through when I explained that I had got it as a gift for my 40th birthday a few years ago. What they don't like though, is shampoo and shaving cream, both of which they confiscated, much to my exasperation. Strange rule...I can knife someone, but I'm not allowed to wash my hair or have a shave.

So I go through the customs check and wait around for a few minutes until the flight gate to Milan Malpensa airport opens. The flight leaves on time and the pilot gets a number of us to catch our breaths when he announces that the temperature in Milan is a sultry -5degC. I can't believe the temperature has dropped that much in only a couple of days but when we land, there's a layer of gravel and salt on the runway, and on those airplanes that had been on the runway all night, there's a thick layer of ice.

I wanted to see a bit of Milan, but I have only a hooded jumper and a few t-shirts with me as casual clothes and it's not enough to keep me warm in these temperatures. It appears I packed too lightly for my trip to Dryland.

To get to the central station in Milan for my train back to Turin, I have to take the Express train from the airport station. It's a trip of about 40mins and is quite pleasant cos the train is warm. It's one of the double-decker coaches and the view allows me to catch some of the bleak view on my new DVD video camera that I bought in Dryland as a pre-Xmas gift to myself. I'd thought about buying one on my last trip and now, seeing a couple of days of Italy, decided I'd better get one. Just taking still pictures back home is not enough to show Steph how nice a place Turin is and I can keep the DVD's for posterity. After the Express, I also have to take a short trip on the subway. Not an altogether pleasant experience. The subway is cold, smelly and full of bleak, disinterested looking people. I'm glad the trip is over quickly.

I take some footage of the outside of Milan station as the architecture is quite phenomenal, as is the architecture of both Italian cities I've seen so far. I can see this is one of the reasons Wreckless is proud of his Italian heritage. The other reason(s) I see for his pride, are the absolutely stunning Italian women. Only two other places have women as comparably beautiful, though I would venture to say they come a distant second to the Italian women.

I get quite cold, even in the sunshine, so I decide to forego the sightseeing trip in Milan and head straight back to Turin, thinking I might get some daylight footage afte the night trip of a few days ago. Not so...the fog has moved in due to the cold weather and the entire trip until 10 minutes outside of Turin (an hour and a half) is a grey blur. In places, you can look straight into the sun as the fog makes it look like nothing more than a white disc in the sky.

As with the trip down, the last ten minutes back into Turin is underground and totally boring, so I don't get any footage of that either.

A short walk back into the warmth of the Hotel Diplomatic, I get my stuff unpacked and have a refreshing, if cramped, shower. They've put me back in the same room with the tiny shower, even though I'd asked for a different room. Apparently, they would have had to charge me for a double room if I'd wanted a larger shower...go figure. Italians, by nature, are small people but I think even they would find this ridiculous...

Part 2 to follow as soon as I type it up...stay tuned...