So, about midweek, I got a text from the office manager informing me that she had booked some flights for my return to Germany Thursday afternoon. She was "reasonably" sure...
I watched a little champions league on tv, and sort of reflected on my little extended visit to Ireland. As frustrating as the experience of not being able to leave the country when I wanted to, it was actually quite nice in the end. Quiet (deliberately, as I mentioned before), but nice.
Outside on the terrace of the hotel pub, I met a few couples from the US who were also stranded. They mentioned that they were flying to Sioux City, and I happend to mention that I used to have Gateway as a customer. We laughed about some of the stories from the region, particularly involving the computer company.
At one point, one of the men, who was particularly chatty, indicated that he was in his early 70s but (he proudly stated) that he looked much younger. Indeed, he looked more late 50s than anything else. An unfortunate elderly looking Irish man was also outside, and he sort of looked crestfallen as he said that he was only 64 himself. We all knew that he looked easily late 70s. Interesting how cultures and lands will change people...
Mr "proud to be a young looking" retiree then struck up a conversation with the waitress, who had come outside for a cigarette. As we were discussing ages, he decided to try to score some points with the girl by saying that one should always reduce the age of a woman by five years when guessing her age. Before I could jump in and say, "perhaps one should just skip the whole age topic alltogether (since I'd recently had a lengthy chat about this very topic and the dangerous elements associated with it back in Bornheim)," this man looked at the waitress and came up with the number 25.
I knew good and well that she was several years younger, but allowed the girl to sort of indignantly retort that she was 23. This man had put himself right in by suggesting that she looked closer to 30.
Truth be told, she did look somewhat mature for her age, but in my experience you need simply to look in someone's eys to see their innocence. (How's that for a very ridiculous statement on a Saturday morning...sounds like a fucking song lyric). Alas, the incident passed without any bloodshed, but I did take the opportunity to retell the story when the man's wife came outside a few minutes later.
Though I had confirmed bookings for Thursday, I was still antsy about getting home. Only when I was on the flight from London to Frankfurt would I be relieved, I told myself.
I checked out of the hotel Thursday morning, initially with a bit of sadness (I don't like goodbyes too much). The folks at the hotel had really taken care of me, though most of them would argue that they'd actually only done their jobs. Fair point, and it was a bit annoying that my credit card wasn't accepted when I tried to pay the whopping bill (overnight stay, laundry, dinners, and a handful (or 20) of pints). I ended up having to use an American account, which meant I'd take an exchange rate hit. But, it was time to go.
The receptionsist at the office where I'd been over the past couple of weeks realized that I was finally going to be leaving, and arranged to get a taxi for me during the middle of the afternoon. Because the airports were all just starting to reopen, none of us knew exactly what to expect. Would the airports suddenly become crowded with thousands of people racing off trying to organize flights again?
Turns out the answer was no. Shannon airport was extremely quiet when I checked in. I got a very panicky feeling when the man told me I'd have to collect my bags in London and recheck them to Frankfurt; I was to have only 90 minutes between flights in London, and typically they like for you to have about 2 hours between transfers.
Our flight to London was half full, and I had the row to myself. I continued to read a book about a girl with a tattoo on her back and made great progress in the hour long flight.
Upon arrival at Heathrow, I was hoping for a miracle: that my luggage would be first out of the chute, that no really slow people would be walking in front of me, that the check in desk would be centrally located.
At the baggage carousel, my bag came out in the middle group, it could have been worse. I grabbed it and immediately found myself in a very narrow corridor behind a man walking with a cane and a rolling bag. Just ahead of him was a 4 year old wrestling with a junior sized roller.
I watched for my chance to slip around them, then zipped on through at a pretty good clip. I arrived into a large check in hall, and looked about for the Lufthansa desk, hoping like hell it wasn't where I saw the largest queue.
Time was ticking, I had about 30 minutes before the flight was to board, and two weeks ago it took me about 40 minutes to get through security. I finally asked a lady in zone A where I might find the Lufthansa desk, and she politely responded that Lufthansa was in zone K. Fuck me, that's a lot of letters away!
I did that little walk/run thing that you do when hurrying through an airport, not really huffing, but kind of wondering why I thought it necessary to have brought two grammar books with me on the trip (thus adding additional weight to my bag). I found zone K, and it was dead quiet, but all the signs on the screens showed some Polish airline, and my heart kind of sank.
Then suddenly, the screens all changed back to Lufthansa! I walked to the desk next to me, the guy calmly checked my bag, handed me my boarding card, and wished me a good flight.
Security turned out to be a lovely experience. There was no one in the queue. That must have been because things were just starting to get going again in this, probably the busiest airport I've ever been in.
I got to my gate, and 10 minutes later we were boarding. Again, I had the row to myself, and I relaxed as I reopened my book. My luggage was on the plane, I was on the plane, and we were going to be on time.
My bag popped out of the chute in Frankfurt about 90 minutes later, and I went outside for some nicotine, somewhat disappointed in myself for having already abandoned my plan to not smoke again on German soil. That said, I enjoyed the hell out of the butt, even as I stood next to my taxi (the cabbie was smoking, also).
Back in Bornheim 20 minutes later, I threw my gear upstairs, then headed next door for a pint or two. I was home, and had elected to take the following day off. A couple of late night beers would help me sleep.
The quiz was finishing up, and I received a hearty greeting from the normal suspects. The tea candle on top of a bag of chips (an imprompto belated birthday gift on account that I'd mentioned I hadn't eaten during the course of the day) was a nice touch. I made my wish, blew out the candle, had another pint, then went home to bed.
Friday was a quiet return to normal service. I had a couple of coffees, did some wash, ignored my emails, made it on time to my dentist appointment (finally) then spent an hour or two in the plaza having coffee. Sort of surreal coming back to a neighborhood where seemingly nothing has changed, yet everything has changed. A slightly uncomfortable feeling, but kind of ok, too.
I'd purchased half a kilo of coffee at the local shop, then received another 250 grams as a belated birthday present, and when I got home to put it all away, I realized I had another unopened 250 grams. However, at the rate I go through espressos, it should tie me over for a week or so.
The weather was quite pleasant the whole time I was in Ireland, and here in Germany, it's even better. I got to bed early on Friday night (I'm reading the next book in the series, where the girl is now playing with fire) and am almost through 200 grams of coffee so far Saturday morning as I do some more washing and apartment cleanup.
With that, I'm going to wrap this up, so I can spend the rest of the weekend enjoying the sunshine. Sobriety optional.
keep the faith
bryan
soundtrack -
The Police - Reggata de Blanc
Bruce Springsteen - Jungleland (for my Irish buddy who may just have a bit of Jersey in him)
Ministry - Revenge (it's nice to know that this is still on the 12" circuit, at least in clubs in Austin)
Thrice - Stare at the Sun
Bouncing Souls - That Song
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