For the first time we let the alarm clock show us a double figure, sleeping until after 10 o'clock, and then we start an endless game at Tetris luggage edition, on which Roberto is a wll known international champion, to distribute in the best possible way the 15 kilos allowed by those greedy guys at Ryanar.
It easy to understand how, after two days in Eurodisney and two more in a comic convention, it was mathematically impossible to go back home with empty hands.
By the way, squeezing, folding and moving objects and rules of Geometry of the solids, we manage to fit everything in the luggage, praying that no one will eventually notice our exceeding weight... and I am not talking about fat, since after this week we can boast some hard and tight butt which can easily win an international championship.
We spend the next hours sitting on some red sofas in a Starbucks where we went for the last frappuccino (see you in 20 days, honey), chatting and evaluating our situation.
Then just a last walk among the shops of Les Halles before we plunge in the feared transfer towards Beauvis.
While we drag our luggage, Paris' sky pours tears, and we do too, but when we finally reach the boarding platform of the bus, Paris shines with a postcard worth sky and a rise in the temperature that we feel well beneath our coats (that we are wearing to lower the weight of the baggage).
We are quite sure that in the following days TV news will be reporting about how the protected by St.Genevieve will be looking for freshness by diving in the city fountains, but not today.
We get to the airport much earlier than needed, but just in time to catch the bad weather that, after having left the Capital, like a Fantozzi's cloud, follows us until the end of the journey.
Before the check in we stay in an elegant restaurant where a schizophrenic waitress asks us to take our luggage away from the defilated wall against which we put them, and to put them in the middle of a passageway.
All in name of safety.
We will cheer every single time she will eventually get her legs caught in my trolley's wheels while walking from the kitchen to the tables and back.
We try a pirate wi-fi connection, but with no luck, so we start writing this report, waiting for the clerks at the check in to decide our destiny.
Will we pay for the 5 exceeding kilos or not?
By the way, Roberto has already set up a personal vengeance.
They will have our 40 euro, but Ryanar will eventually spend that amount of money in at least a couple of useless touristic trip around the skies of Bergamo each time he will be in charge.
Luckily, with a last minute movement, we manage to stay in the forgiven kilos that the meticulous check in clerk (never seen checking the weight of the luggage one piece at a time as provided by the rules) allows us as usually done, and much relieved, we walk to the boarding gate, hoping that the Roberto's turbonerd type backpack will fit comfortably in the overhead compartment of the B737 taking us home.