So on the final day, we left Sant'Agnello and took the one hour trip to Naples on the Circumvesuviana. Once in Naples, we did our best to shrug off the old scam-merchant shouting "stamp ticket" at us, before spending another two and a half hours on the slow-train to Roma Terminii. Once in Rome, we scrambled to the connecting train to Fiumicini airport, which took another hour. This put us at the airport 3 hours before our flight.
After a brief collision with some septics that very nearly caused me to loose my rag (only took them 30 seconds to right royally tick me off), we were told that our flight was cancelled because of snow at Heathrow, a story later confirmed by Martin's fiancée who works for air traffic control. Apparently Heathrow was running on one runway, and that runway was running at half capacity. This meant that our plane was still in London, rather than Rome.
As we were so early, we managed to join the queue for BA's ticket desk quite near the front (meaning there were about 50 people in front of us, and a mere 200 behind us when we reached the front). Fortunately, we were aiming for Heathrow which has about 3 flights a day, so we were booked on a flight the next morning. We were surrounded by people trying to get to Gatwick though - apparently not a regular daily flight, so they were being routed all over the place. This included the aforementioned septics, which put me in a good mood.
The lady behind the desk dealt with us perfectly, sorting tickets for the next day and booking us in to the Hilton. Once checked in, I took the customary "view from the window", before we headed down for the free food and wine.
On the flight the next morning, another traveller compared conditions to those of a refugee camp: knob.
