It was a rather rainy and chilly day from my view out the window as I packed my bags. The ceremony that all travelers go through known as the Stuffing of the Suitcases didn't take quite as long as we thought it would, and we fit everything comfortably in our luggage.
DEAR CUSTOMS: please do not take away my homemade dry shampoo. It is not Cocaine. I need it. My hair needs it. I also need my lacrosse ball. When it comes to rolling out sore muscles it can't be beat. And my Mag Citrate. And my trail mix. Thank you.
Aunt Rachel looked all snazzy in her new hi-lo skirt and matching jewelry and I wore my super comfy dress. I'm glad that I'm with someone who doesn't think traveling is an excuse to dress sloppy. You can wear sweatpants if you want, but no,
we will be stylin'. ;)
After stopping for a caffeine/sugar fix (not for me, I was drinking on kombucha) we drove to Arlington national cemetery which is very near to the airport.
We were slightly appalled to discover that you have to pay to park at Arlington. We only wanted a short go round through the place. But, having George with us, we found the Henderson Hall Base, which borders Arlington.
It was a Marine base, because as you know, the Navy couldn't be the Navy without the Marines, who are a key component and the "boots on the ground," so to speak.
Gotta love the ol' military base. When I visited George and his family in Hawaii I really enjoyed it. Reveille played every morning over the loudspeaker at 6:30 AM.
Its like a little town: you've got the Commissary or PX and other stores, soldiers everywhere, a chapel, military housing (which was lovely old houses at this one.) Sometimes they even have their own blowing alley.
So, we cruised on up to this particular Marine base and George handed his ID to the guy at the gate.
He looked at it.
"Yes sir! thank you Commander"
Heh ;P
We drove through the base to the entrance to Arlington, but found out you had to get a pass from the MP to get in there, so we drove for a while on the edge and were able to get a good look. It is sobering to see the price of war, yet it was hauntingly beautiful.
I was slacking on taking pictures cause it was raining and the car windows were all weird, but this is my evidence I was on the base:
We arrived at the airport and the check in was seamless, after which the three of us got to relax at the USO lounge (for millitary folks) which had lots of comfy seats, snacks, and drinks.
George had our tickets on TSA Pre Check, so it took a lot less time to get through security than usual. He parted ways with us there, as he was going on a different plane and route:
Boston-->London-->Stuttgart.
DEAR TSA AGENT GUY: being just a leetle bit too attentive/friendly with me and then having the metal detector go off on me (oh, whaddaya know!) causing me to have to go through another scanner was highly suspect on your part sir.
Anyway. We boarded our plane and Rachel found her seat. I was across from her, but turns out, she was on the row next to the exit door, so we swapped seats.
That put me sitting next to a sharp dressed, fine lookin' young businessman (aaaand he was reading a Dave Ramsey book.) ;P It was a full flight, but turns out Aunt Rachel hadn't been sitting in the right seat to begin with. Thus, before I could even talk to him, I was whisked away to a seat next to this sleepy looking Indian guy listening to the Jackson Five.
Dang it.
The flight to Detroit was a little over an hour and went quite well. You could even see some of the Great Lakes outside the window! When we arrived, we had about a half hour to board our plane to Amsterdam. The flight was a little late getting off the ground and as a result, we had about a half hour before our plane would be boarding. The gate was undetermined, or so the ticket said, so we were a little bit concerned about finding that gate and getting there quickly enough.
Thankfully, George had arranged a wheelchair escort for Aunt Rachel and the attendant met us as we disembarked the plane. When we asked him about the gate, he immediately whipped out his scanner and scanned our tickets to find out, and he showed us the way. I gave him a pretty hefty tip, because he was infinitely helpful. If he hadn't wheeled her to the gate, we would have taken a while to get there on foot.
We boarded our plane and were in the middle of a row of four seats.
I was sitting next to a sweet older lady from the DC area who was headed to Budapest for a Viking River Cruise. Aunt Rachel sat next to a retired gentleman who was very intriguing. He is a retired attorney who attended both law school AND medical school at the same time. Whew. He is also recently retired from a competitive sailing career and he's going on a Viking cruise as well.
Thanks to the blessing of a tailwind, our estimated flight time to Amsterdam got shortened by an hour and 20 minutes, so now our total flight length is 6 hours 30 minutes.
As I write this, typing like some sort of digitized woodpecker on my phone, the rest of the plane is watching movies. Two people adjacent to me are watching Food Network, which is a potent form of torture when you've barely eaten anything all day. Helppp.
This is a gigantic plane, so big you barely feel take off or turbulence or anything. We are chasing the sunrise right now as we fly over the ocean. In Europe, I will be 6 hours ahead of you folks in the states, so that means my evening posts will reach you earlier in your day.
Which is why I am publishing this while I'm on the plane, since *technically* you are at your end of the day in the states. Gotta love time differences, eh?
But anyway. To translate: that means at 2 AM this morning when you are snoozing away, Lord willing, I'll arrive in Amsterdam and we will fly to Germany from there (at which point I will be a proper Zombie, cause I'm too excited to sleep on this plane.)
But anyway.
Bis bald! ;)
1 comment:
You make an international flight sound interesting instead of tiring! I continue to love your descriptions and thanks for the inserted photos! Keep writing!
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