Phillip Holt's World

Although I trusted Elena, my translator, when she said the NLP Practitioner course in Roma would be starting at 2pm last Saturday, I had visions of participants arriving at 9am, and my bedside telephone waking me up, with an agitated voice on the other end shouting

“Where are you, they are all sitting here waiting for you?”

so I got up at 7am to prepare just in case, had breakfast, and made sure that I had the morning free.

Not one to do the tourist thing, after all I am there to work, I wondered what to do?

I do not enjoy doing things by myself, but I had a few hours to spare, and I knew that twenty minutes walk, nothing is far in Rome, was The Vatican. I had been there many times before.

Not being a religious person, and not a Roman Catholic, St. Peter’s, the basilica, has no real meaning for me, but it is a beautiful place, and worth a visit. I use some of my experiences from previous visits in my courses and metaphors. Plus, if there is a God, and in the Roman Catholic faith the basilica is the number one house, why not go up there and ask him to sort me out.

So I set out on a wonderful hot sunny Saturday morning. I was happy. I was warm in my tee-shirt, striding out, mixing with the early morning Italian shoppers, and stallholders setting-up their stands on the side of the roads.

Then the heavens open. It caught me unawares, as the sun was still shinning, and yet there were big rain drops.

Walk through it Phillip, it will go.

I got to the Vatican, not too wet, but was amazed that there were so many tourists there already, so I joined the queues to get inside St. Peter’s.

I first entered the tombs of the Popes. I had never been there, and found it for me strange how people were praying at the effigies or tombs of long gone Popes, but then, I have not been brought up in their beliefs.

After leaving the tombs of the Popes, I went into the Basilica itself.

As you walk into St. Peter’s, you have to turn left, and there in front of you is the marvelous work of art by Michelangelo Buonarroti of Florence. It shows the Virgin Mary holding the lifeless body of Jesus Christ in her lap. It is called The Pieta (Italian for “pity”), and was created when Michelangelo was twenty four. Carved from a single block of marble, it took him two years to create, and was unveiled in 1500.

Virgin Mary holding the lifeless body of Jesus Christ in her lap. The Pieta. St. Peters Basilica, The Vatican, Roma.

The basilica is full of statues and/or monuments, some commissioned and created for the Popes. Perhaps the most famous of these was commissioned by Alexander VII to become the archway or exit to the basilica. It was created by an 80 year old Bernini, (there is still chance for me then), in 1678.

I was first out of the aircraft, well apart from the Business Class passengers and that horrid child. (click)

I had a train to catch from Rome’s Fiumicino Aeroporto (airport), on the Leonardo Express to Roma Termini railway station. It is a fastish service running every 30 minutes and taking just over 30 minutes for 11 Euro. Better than a taxi which will cost 50 Euro.

The journey on the train was pleasant, only because an Italian sitting opposite to me insisted on talking and telling me his life story of how Italy had changed so much, and that he had moved to Australia, but still wanted to be with his family near Naples. On and on he went, Please let me look at the countryside.

Peace at last, as I got a taxi to the Jolly Hotel, Leonardo Da Vinci, where I was to stay and give the NLP Practitioner course.

Elena my translator and friend contacted me to say she would be in my hotel reception at 8:30pm so that we can go and have a meal. I had just a few minutes to wait for a welcome real Italian pizza.

It was during the evening when I asked what time do we start that I found that the course did not start at 9am Saturday morning as I presupposed (see definition English or Italian), but 2pm in the afternoon.

Oh Poo Poo I could have flown Saturday morning and saved one night in the hotel.

Still, I can rest Saturday morning, and perhaps go for a walk.

The evening meal, the pizza, was not the best, but certainly welcomed, as we sat at the tables on the street outside the restaurant, a practice most restaurants employ. It was the ice cream that followed that I enjoyed.

Oh how I love Italian ice cream, Sicilian the most, with all their exotic flavours, coconut being my favourite, full of real coconut.

Perhaps I can work on the internet Saturday morning?

No way. The Jolly Hotel chain as many in around the world, but not Turkey, charge extra for access to the internet. In this case 5 Euro (£4) for half an hour. Robbery.

Then Elena told me, in her hotel, which is much cheaper than mine, she has free access.

Oh Poo Poo I will have to watch BBC World Service or CNN all night.

The start of my journey proved to be going wrong, (click to read previous times), but my faith in Oh Poo Poo saw me through with a smile on my face.

As I travel so much in the air, I have a reasonable idea of where I would like to sit. I cannot afford Business or First Class travel, why pay so much when you arrive at the same time, and instead of the food being served on china plates, it is served on plastic, so I fly baggage class. In with the suitcases in the hold.

If possible I try and get the front seat window of the economy cabin. This has a number of advantages. I can rest my head on the bulkhead of the aircraft to sleep, I can be one of the first off the aircraft, so less queuing at passport control, and sometimes the seats are the same seat of those in Business Class, they just move the class divider to give more seat to economy class.

Failing the front seat, get the emergency window exit seat over the wings. These seats give more leg room, and also allows you to leave the seat without disturbing the people in the seats next to you.

Failing getting either of the first two options, get the very back window seats. OK it is more bumpy with air turbulence, but you tend to get your food first, and so what, there is going to be a big queue and a fight to get off the aircraft, sit back and let them get on with it.

So it was on my trip to Roma, I was able to get seat 4A, front of economy, lots of space, just the last business class seat in front of me and dividing curtain. I can put-up with that for two hours the flight would take.

The problem was, there was a small child, less than 5 years old occupying seat 3A in front of me.

I do not know what nationality the child was, as I could not understand the language, even “Mama” was said in a foreign tongue I have never heard before.

The mother had no discipline over the child. It was jumping up and down. The seat back was continually being raised up and down into my face. It was screaming and shouting, laughing and crying at will. It ran up and down the isle.

People around me were really upset. No sleep was achieved. Just an unruly child.

To make matters worse, when the meal was served, lunch, it was pathetic. a sandwich, little biscuit and red orange juice.

Alitalia food June 2008, London to Rome. AZ203

This is cost cutting to extreme. A year ago, although again the food was pathetic, Alitalia did serve more.

Alitalia food May 2007, London to Milan.

Yes this is how most airlines are going, but the only difference I can tell with the low cost airlines and scheduled national carriers, is that on low cost flights you can choose either to buy or not to buy food, and you have a choice what to buy, and on national carriers, you get no choice, and you will probable pay twice the amount for the ticket.

Oh Poo Poo sit back and enjoy, at least I will get to Rome.

I was asked by my good friend Alessio Roberti founder of NLPItaly to give part of the NLP Practitioner course to participants in Rome.

It is not the first time I have been to Rome. Over the years I have given many courses there, and seen private clients on a 1-2-1 basis.

Rome certainly has a character of its’ own, from the cobbled streets, to the history of ancient Rome, the religious aspects of the many churches, plus the Vatican.

Every building in Roma has character, unlike Milano which are built in a style from Mussolini days, very flat and square, no shape.

I had decided to leave Friday 12:15 midday, on an Alitalia flight from Heathrow, and checked in on the internet, and I checked the flight details prior to leaving home, and all was OK.

On arriving in Heathrow, Terminal 2, I approached a representative of Alitalia, only to be told the flight had not even left Rome on its’ inward journey to London. Oh Poo Poo.

“Would it actually be flying or would it be canceled?”

No problem, there will be other flights, the course does not start until Saturday morning.

I went through to departures. At least I can look around the limited duty free shops. Now I know why they are there, as I am forced to buy more books to read. Thank goodness for PhotoReading.

Two and a half hours delay. Oh Poo Poo but no rush, I can relax.

An announcement is made over the public address system:-

      “All Alitalia passengers on AZ203, please go to desk number one, where you can obtain a food voucher.“

Great, I can get some decent food for lunch, as all Alitalia now serve is a non descript sandwich, a small biscuit and a soft drink in a plastic cup. One good thing to come out of the delay.

The queue at desk number one is long, and I begin to talk to the fellow passengers around me.

I heard different accents. American, Australian, German, Italian, British. All had a tail to tell. All of the looked tired, sleepless, and were complaining.

The Americans had flown into London the previous day, but instead of seeing the sites, had gone to bed.

The Australians had left Australia two days previously, the flight was late leaving, flown to Hong Kong, were their connecting flight with Cathay Pacific to Rome had just left. They were re booked onto another fight with Korean Air going to London, from London they would take Alitalia to Rome. In all the confusion, their baggage had been lost.

Oh Poo Poo.

My delay was nothing.

But the queue was not moving. For half an hour we stood in the same place. Alitalia had run out of meal vouchers.

Oh Poo Poo.

Eventually, I got my voucher, and had my lunch. I was lucky, I had nothing special to do. Elena Martelli my translator for the weekend would not arrive in Rome until 8pm, when we would meet and have an evening meal together. No rush.

That’s another story.