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After 24 hours in Lecce post cycling, we caught a flight from the
Brindisi airport back to Rome and holed up in a Hilton Hotel just off the
grounds of the airport. Upon return to the airport on Tuesday morning, Wendy
and I said goodbye and headed to our separate terminals. In short order, I
discovered that British Airways cancelled my two flights (Rome to London,
London to Seattle) although they cheerily informed me that my Seattle to
home flight was still ok (gee thanks). After standing in a long line to
get re-routed (two agents to serve an entire flight's worth of people), I was
relieved that my new itinerary was not so bad:
Rome - Frankfurt - San Francisco - home. However, it has turned
into a 24 hour trip so I'll be pretty wasted when I finally get back. I'm
writing this while at the SF airport, drinking a beer and watching the Giants,
so things could be worse.
My new itinerary took me through Frankfurt, Germany. I was only
there for 2 hours and nothing went wrong, but still, I was off kilter. After
passing inspection by an unsmiling and condescending customs/passport guy, and
walking from landing zone A to departure zone Z, I was greeted at the gate by a
gaggle of overly efficient TSA agents (German, but employed by the U.S. I assume).
The woman who processed me asked a rapid-fire series of questions that I barely
understood, and then said something about the TSA random check. She told me to
go to the toilette and be back within 1/2 hour because I would not be able to
use the toilette after that. This information raised my alert level -- I
pictured being ushered off to the gulag to be questioned under klieg lights.
Off I went to fulfill my toilette duties (scurrying up and down the hallway
because first restroom flooded, second one closed, third one the charm).
When I got back, I sat where she had indicated and awaited my
fate but either I misunderstood or they found juicier suspects because a
different set of travelers was selected for the random check (and geez, they
WERE ushered off somewhere!) Still, all
of the uncertainty about this stressed me out to the point that I had to buy
some chocolate, so I went off to do that while also picking up a sandwich and
what I thought were plain potato chips, but which I later discovered were vomit
flavored.
Finally! on the plane and
settled in for the 10.5 hour flight. The aisle seat I had paid extra for on
British Airways was a lost cause and I was stuck in the middle of the middle,
but I was able to sleep and arrived in SF where the customs/passport people
greeted me with friendly smiles. I'm happy to be back in the USA!
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