Time to head home.
The taxi driver nearly broke a new BCN track record. I noted that he crossed himself as we zoomed pasted the cemetery.
In the lounge I started to pull down from the interwebs my office for the whole day when I noticed a guy standing by a pillar with a napkin on his head, intent on his phone. “Jewish”, I guessed.
And so the trek home beginneth.
My fellow praying traveler – who looks like he could bust 2x4s with his hand – is in the row across from me with his shawl and kippah and phylactery bound on. He is going at it pretty intensely with his portion. I think had better say some more office to hold up the starboard side.
I’m waiting at gate in AMS. Since the last time I flew through here they changed the security set up. It’s pretty efficient.
Speaking of efficient, the orderly Dutch at Schipol announce via a neutral and yet ominous slowly paced male voice,”Passenger Fatty McButerpants traveling to Libville, you are delaying the flight. Please proceed to Gate E436 or your luggage will be removed.” You sense they really mean something like, “And your head will be shaved and you will be frog marched in front of hundreds of responsible people who know where to go and when, you inefficient dope.” Having both Prussian blood and having moderated a blog and a forum, I appreciate this at a deeply satisfying level. Only my many years in Rome have tempered this somewhat.
Some good news as they close the door.
They tell us our flight time is only 7:30. Quick. And we are leaving early, to boot.
I’m back in these USA.
Customs went smoothly, my bag was one of the first off the plane, and I did security in a flash. HINT when flying to DTW from abroad if you have TSA PRECHECK: There is no PreCheck downstairs. BUT… you can go upstairs to the regular security area. If there is a big line stacked up because more than one jumbo arrived and Fred and Wilma – not so familiar with travel – multiplied by 500 are keeping that line nice and slow, just go upstairs.