The gods prefer Italy.

Flying overnight offers the opportunity to attempt sleeping in a variety of uncomfortable positions at 35000 feet.  However, on the bright side there is nothing to see out of the windows and so nothing is missed.

Most of our flight path is over cloud cover and so the earth below is obscured.  That is until we get to the border of the French Alps and Italy.  At this juncture is it clear that the gods prefer Italy; no clouds, bright sun, green fields and forests all come into view.  The alps are pretty but Italy is enticing and welcoming.

evidence that the gods prefer Italy

The Heathrow airport is huge and the terminal you arrive in is not the one you leave from (probably). This means leaving a secure area and going through security check again.  Nice people with a serious job to do.  ANY sense of humor must have been surgically removed prior to their employment. 

Approaching Milan, Italy

Our flight from London to Milan is not very full.  There are perhaps only 30 people on a plane that carries three time that.  This is very important during passport check.  With only a couple of exceptions, not including ourselves, passport check is quick and officious—handover passport, get the stare down from the customs officer, passport stamped and handed back, move on—My “good day” salutation is not returned and no smile offered. 

There are a couple of people who command the attention of the officers and they receive extended scrutiny from them.  We patiently wait our turn and enjoy the lack of attention. 

  We are through and on to customs bag check.  Bag check is nonexistent.  Tables are set up, uniformed officers are standing by, and no one, absolutely no one is asked for any information about the contents of their bags.  A few more steps and we are through the sliding doors and onto Italian soil.