Day 13: Home Again, Home Again ...
I apologize for the lateness of this post, as it's taken me that long to get unpacked and recover (somewhat) from the hideous flight back.
First, the security measures: At Munich Airport I had to be screened via my passport photo to make sure it was me, then to have the passport stamped by Customs. Then I had to submit to a full security check (carry-on bag scanned, shoes Xrayed and I was even frisked) before being allowed near the gate.
The plane took off about 10 minutes late, the basso roar of the jet engines given a soprano accompaniment by the screams of babies. Yes, there were children on the flight, and none of them seemed prepared to sleep during the nine-hour flight.
Lunch was served, tasty but nowhere near what I had grown accustomed to having, but about four hours later the staff seemed to get a little desperate. They gave us snacks and offered us all the free water and OJ we could drink, and seemed relieved when we finally deplaned at Philadelphia.
Now I know how sheep feel at times, as we were literally herded first to Customs to have our passports stamped, then to baggage claim to collect our suitcases. Then we had to declare any items that we might be gringing into the country, and all the while I'm glaring at my watch, well aware that my connecting flight is leaving in just over an hour.
Then we had to check our baggage back through so that it could be loaded, and suffer in line through yet another search (as if we'd all had the opportunity to pick up those free bazookas at the duty free shop while in flight). I made it to my gate just as they started boarding.
The connecting flight to Orlando was another nightmare, with babies whose screams were shrill enough to commend them to the Army as another nonlethal area denial weapon. I had had enough, so when the drinks cart came round I asked the steward, "Do you have vodka?"
"Yes," he said.
"Do you have orange juice?"
"Of course."
I threw a $20 at him and commanded him to make me a screwdriver. After two of them I felt a tad bit better disposed to the screaming children and their harried parents.
The plane landed at Orlando fifteen minutes early, and I got the hell out of there and back home as quickly as possible. Now, after a good night's sleep and sifting through a mountain of mail, I can say with conviction:
"I'm so glad I'm back, I'm glad I went."
Now, those of you have followed this blog forthe past two weeks: I thank you for reading along, and rest assured that some of the 1,523 pictures I took with my digital camera will be making it onto this blog as soon as possible.
First, the security measures: At Munich Airport I had to be screened via my passport photo to make sure it was me, then to have the passport stamped by Customs. Then I had to submit to a full security check (carry-on bag scanned, shoes Xrayed and I was even frisked) before being allowed near the gate.
The plane took off about 10 minutes late, the basso roar of the jet engines given a soprano accompaniment by the screams of babies. Yes, there were children on the flight, and none of them seemed prepared to sleep during the nine-hour flight.
Lunch was served, tasty but nowhere near what I had grown accustomed to having, but about four hours later the staff seemed to get a little desperate. They gave us snacks and offered us all the free water and OJ we could drink, and seemed relieved when we finally deplaned at Philadelphia.
Now I know how sheep feel at times, as we were literally herded first to Customs to have our passports stamped, then to baggage claim to collect our suitcases. Then we had to declare any items that we might be gringing into the country, and all the while I'm glaring at my watch, well aware that my connecting flight is leaving in just over an hour.
Then we had to check our baggage back through so that it could be loaded, and suffer in line through yet another search (as if we'd all had the opportunity to pick up those free bazookas at the duty free shop while in flight). I made it to my gate just as they started boarding.
The connecting flight to Orlando was another nightmare, with babies whose screams were shrill enough to commend them to the Army as another nonlethal area denial weapon. I had had enough, so when the drinks cart came round I asked the steward, "Do you have vodka?"
"Yes," he said.
"Do you have orange juice?"
"Of course."
I threw a $20 at him and commanded him to make me a screwdriver. After two of them I felt a tad bit better disposed to the screaming children and their harried parents.
The plane landed at Orlando fifteen minutes early, and I got the hell out of there and back home as quickly as possible. Now, after a good night's sleep and sifting through a mountain of mail, I can say with conviction:
"I'm so glad I'm back, I'm glad I went."
***
Now, those of you have followed this blog forthe past two weeks: I thank you for reading along, and rest assured that some of the 1,523 pictures I took with my digital camera will be making it onto this blog as soon as possible.
posted by Walt at 2:35 PM
2 Comments:
I have never entirely understood why folks absoutely insist on bringing babies onto planes, since inevitably the little darlings are pained by the air pressure and such and scream their little lungs out. The screwdriver would have been better administered to them, I think.
Someday, someone will get rich inventing a Cone of Silence that can be put over a baby on a plane.
Glad you made it safe and sound. As you come home, I leave home. You can read about my nice surprise trip at MM.
Hold down the fort and I'll talk to you Friday.
WELCOME HOME :)
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