Well, we made it. A bit bleary eyed, tired, and exhilarated, but we made it. We survived the gauntlet of Las Vegas traffic, the airport at both ends, security, TSA, more than eleven hours imitating high flying sardines, and the last vestiges of a bug picked up a few days before we left.
Now, we can begin dreading the return trip. Now, we can look forward to our German adventure, the first European Route 66 Festival, an historic event, and good times with friends.
Lessons have been learned, one of the perks associated with travel. Memories have been made, another perk, and we have met some fascinating people, another perk.hi
Our flight from Las Vegas to Frankfurt was on Condor, the Southwest Airlines of international travel. As luck would have it, the US segment of their website updated the day before we left was down, which prohibited printing of boarding passes.
Aside from an extended delay resultant of a necessitated check in at the counter, we sailed through. Of course we had to deal with random TSA rulings at security, and extortionist prices at the airport after clearing security ($7.00 for two bottles of water) but they do have a captive audience.
The flight was eventful but cramped. We had paid extra for “preferred economy” which meant that my dearest friend could count the change in my pocket with her hip, and that I could almost stretch my legs. The poor SOB’s in regular economy made do with leg room that would be difficult for amputee dwarfs.
The food and service would better than average. Rest room facilities, well, I suggest Depends.
We arrived at the airport in Frankfurt without issue. However, construction necessitated an old fashioned tarmack departure and transport to the terminal via bus. That in turn torpedoed my careful research.
So, we explored the airport in more detail than intended.A friendly Nigerian immigrant soon had me back on course. The irony was that he spoke superb English and that several lost travelers asked the confused Americans for directions.
Next post, wooden nickels for beer, Afghan taxi drivers, the old city of Mainz, and a charming young lady named Romina from Slovakia.
So, we explored the airport in more detail than intended.A friendly Nigerian immigrant soon had me back on course. The irony was that he spoke superb English and that several lost travelers asked the confused Americans for directions.
Next post, wooden nickels for beer, Afghan taxi drivers, the old city of Mainz, and a charming young lady named Romina from Slovakia.
