Just did the math. Twenty-four hours ago I was in the middle of a copy-editing shift in the office of The National in Abu Dhabi.

Now, I am sitting on the patio of L’Oasi Hotel, watching the gentle sun angling slowly below the horizon … just outside the city of Rome. As in Italy.

The sun has come out, but the temperature is only about 70, after a day of rain. And given the climatological, uh, realities, of Abu Dhabi this time of year, I’m happy to be here. Oh, yeah.

How we got here:

Leah and our taxi driver, Benjamin, picked me up at the office at 11. Off to the airport, which is about a 35-minute drive into the desert. Like everything in Abu Dhabi, it is new and top-end and impressive.  When you spend money on infrastructure as opposed to aircraft carriers, you can build some nice stuff. We should try it, back home.

Two-hour wait in the multi-multi-national waiting room of Terminal 1. Painted vaulted ceiling. Upscale duty-free shops. Not enough places to sit, which is how designers plan terminals, right? So you will get up and browse.

In this part of the world, a big chunk of flying — nearly all of it? — is scheduled between midnight and 3 a.m.  To escape the heat? Maybe. Seems to make more sense that jetting off somewhere in the middle of the night is an advantage because 1) you may not lose a business day if you slept on a plane and 2) it puts you in Europe or other points west in time for the start of the day. No days lost to travel. Anyway, the terminal is crowded with locals and Westerners perhaps going on vacation, and more than a few large groups of working men headed home.

Sadly, we flew Turkish Airlines, with a connection in Istanbul. A jarringly charmless airline, which I suppose is nearly all of them these days. Rude crew, a shockingly tight cabin in the Airbus 321 (I think it was; the battery on my laptop is about to run out, and I didn’t look it up). About one inch of knee room ahead of me, every seat in the plane filled, cabin temps in the high 80s. Oh, and lots and lots of crying babies. Miserable.

But it was $450 or so to get to Rome roundtrip, so there’s that. If I were made of money, it would have been Etihad we flew, the luxe local airline. Though Etihad may not fly to Rome nonstop yet. Need to check.

Everyone seems to love Istanbul. Didn’t get out of the airport, so don’t have an opinion on that.

Then off to Rome, across southern Greece (all those islands, even up in the far northern Aegean). You could explore those for weeks, years, no? I’ve resisted Greek Islands forever, but maybe I should reconsider.

Across Greece’s mainland. (Images of angry voters and broke banks down below.) Across Albania! (Now this is vaguely exciting. Used to be, no one went into Albania, or flew over it, or even looked at it, because it was an ultra-paranoid Communist nightmare (think: North Korea) run by a madman named Enver Hoxha. But now we cross right over.

Across the Adriatic, and then to green … yes, green … Italy.

After seven-plus months on the edge of one of the most daunting deserts on the planet, the idea that a whole country could be so … green … is almost hard to comprehend. Spring in Italy. The rains have come. Everything is blooming. How not Abu Dhabi, where nothing but a few palm trees grow without constant irrigation.

Down to the madness of Da Vinci Airport (aka, Fiumicino), through near-nonexistent security … and we are out of the airport.

Oh, backing up. Security in Abu Dhabi consists of a giant mag-and-bag machine before you even get to the counter. Computers not out, no shoes off, etc.  Almost informal.

Then, before boarding the plane, another slightly more formal mag-and-bag. Laptops out, but shoes still on, about a 30-second process. Compare and contrast with LAX.

So, we meet up with Leah’s parents at baggage claim. They have come in from SoCal via NYC. They’re holding up. A bit thrashed. A long day, no?

Over to Hertz where we pick up the biggest Fiat I have ever seen (making it smaller than the usual American or UAE SUV, but still ….). Four people, a fair amount of luggage, no problemo!

Then a search for the hotel as the occasional drops of rain turn to real rain, and a completely random “man, are we lost, how are we gonna to find this hotel without circling Roma” moment when Marvin, Leah’s father says, “Hey, there’s the hotel.” Nobody in the car thought we were within 10 miles of it.

So, the obligatory crashing, after a quick and tasty pannini in the hotel bar … and now we’re up and planning to check out some trattoria this side of Rome. The plan is to eat quasi-locally, get going early and get down to Sorrento, on Naples Bay, and chill — literally  — for a week. And after that, on to Sicily for another week.

Can the paper come out without me? Appears to have, so far. Brave lads.

The biggest news for me was … finally getting the score of the Lakers game. First thing Marvin, a huge Lakers fan,  asked me in the airport was … do you know the score?… and he wasn’t referring to the Italian legal system, or whatever.

More to come in coming days. My battery is blinking at me.