Flight home

I knew flying home would not be a happy event. Besides leaving Europe, the airlines have made it too difficult to be comfortable and spending 10 hours in any 2 x 2 area is an iffy proposition.

So first we had to get up at 4:30 - not so easy after 3 weeks of doing otherwise. We made it to the Brussels airport (Zeventrinuppannendorsch or something close), trying hard not to be ugly English speakers like another group on the shuttle. Our first flight of three was to Amsterdam and we passed through security in Brussels just fine although the barcode on my boarding pass didn't work initially and I had to go back to the desk for another one while Vicki waited on the other side of the security area.

Amsterdam was another matter. I think someone in a position of authority decided anyone going to the U.S. was bad and so flights to America are placed at the single furthest terminal point available. Not only that, but since we were transported outside the secure terminal area because we deplaned on the tarmac and had to ride a shuttle to the terminal, we had to go through security - complete with pat down - again.

I must say that the kids on this flight were pretty awesome - no screamers. In fact, most people slept, including the kids. That introduced some other issues. As I type this, my nose is five inches from the seat in front of me. The couple in those seats pushed them back immediately after takeoff.

The sounds at this moment are either of these and many others who were award winners at this year's phlegm convention or of the many different varieties of snoring. There are the semi-quiet, but sometimes piercing, whistlers. There are those with a deep guttural snore, like the guy behind me. And then there are those who jerk awake all of a sudden, as if startled out of a deep sleep. I'm really glad they are not armed, because the wildness in the eyes of the lady next to me is scary.

Finally, and I hesitate to share this, there are those who silently share deadly gasses while they sleep. We are essentially flying in a metal tube of gaseous, coughing, mucous-y internationals. (Note from Vicki: I think that the primary culprit was the guy in front of me who smelled to start with. However, the fumes emanating from his seat were amazingly disgusting. It even smelled bad when he coughed.)

No, I can't sleep. I'm scared I might be one of them.

I have to say that there are more rude individuals on this flight as well. We were an hour into the flight and most people were asleep when one guy decided he needed to find his bag in the overhead. He walked along opening and slamming the overhead bins, waking everyone.

And then there are those for whom a plane cabin is an audience and all must be said so it will reach the far corners.

Once we reached Dallas, we stood in an immigrations line for about 30 minutes, then customs. Dallas to Memphis was uneventful - we actually had more room on that small plane than we did in the big one.

I am now finishing this up in the Memphis heat and humidity. Didn't miss that a bit.

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