Having offered the Most August Sacrifice this morning, I’m off again, straight to the aerodrome.
Where I’m sitting now, I can hear 3 languages. The really loud one behind me is surely Russian – or in part Russian. My Ruski yazik was a looooong time ago, but I am picking up bits. They’ve been talking about Khazaksan, but I doubt about Bp Schneider.
The fountain at DTW is really fun.
On Sundays, the clubs at the end of the long A concourse don’t open until 1:30. No doubt they wanted all their employees to go to Mass in the morning. Having arrived with the unlocking of the doors, I found the place pristine…. which is a little strange.
Emulating a frequent traveling companion, whose blood I think flows in part coffee, this would be 2 double shots of espresso.
Ah, the opulence.
There are upgrades going on all the time. There was something a little ominous out side the restroom.
Okay… you you can select your language. So what.
Try to guess what I think removing hard, concrete signs from the doors of the restrooms paves the way for. Just guess.
Next leg starts in Delta “Comfort”.
Someone nearby hasn’t bathed for a while.
We landed softly.