Written on January 14th:
Wi-fi at Cleveland-Hopkins airport has fallen victim to that brute capitalism. Yes, your wireless says it has a signla. Yes, it says it has connected. But only AT&T subscribers can access any websites outside of a "welcome" page. I have to pay to use the airport's wireless network, and I'm too cheap to do it.
My neck is already slightly sore from the walk through the various terminals. For half of it, I ended up walking with a policeman because he thought I was a lost child.
"Are you travelling with your parents?" he asked.
It's always a bit scary to be approached by a police officer, especially when he's asking you questions.
"No, I'm by myself," I replied.
"Sorry," he said. "You just look really young."
I then got to tell him that I was twenty. And as we walked toward my gate, I was told how lucky I am to look so young, which I'm sure will continue to happen for more years than I can possibly imagine. Needless to say, no one else bothers you when you're already walking with a police officer. It does wonders. I highly recommend it.
And now I take to my favourite past-time of people-watching.
Thank God Kurt is with me.
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"Washington, D.C. - the layover"
Everyone at this airport is either late for their plane, racing or getting in their daily jog. Anyone not running is currently blocking the terminal whilst trying to get on the plane to Frankfurt.
My last view of the United States: incredibly cloudy skies.
My last meal in the United States: Wendy's. (Someone please tell dad.)
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The flight can be summed up as 7 hours long with a screaming baby in front of the cabin and a 4-year-old aussie kicking the back of my seat. Sleep was sparse. The in-flight meal was slightly better than microwave manicotti, only because it probably didn't have freezer burn when bought. And because the screen in front of me terrified me a bit, I didn't watch the films, but did listen to lots of music. It was a fair trade.
Flying over London at 6am is excellent.
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Customs at 6am is not excellent.
"Why are you coming to the UK?" is not a question I can answer on no sleep. "Because I don't like George W. Bush" is not a proper reply. Somehow, I got in. (I might be exaggerating about mentioning Mr. Bush.)
Because our flight arrived at Heathrow so early, we ended up sitting around, waiting for the bus to Leicester for 4 hours. Heathrow airport is slightly more exciting, possibly because people were going other places than Frankfurt. And thanks to that extensive bench-dwelling, I now know the routine of the waterman at Heathrow.
Current muscle size: one level above invisible.
I'll forgive you since you were in an airport, but usually computers get signals, not signlas. Airport frustration can make you dyslexic.
ReplyDeleteI walked by dad and he was sitting there with a frosty. He's had so many that he probably has developed a "Wendy's" sense and doesn't need to be told when his offspring ingests it. He just knows.
Hello Lisa. Tiny Passed today at 10:35 a.m. I will miss her minus the odor. dad
ReplyDeletePlease tell me that you had a Frosty at Wendy's. Do they have frosties in Europe?
ReplyDelete