Home (6/15)


I awoke before the alarm and got ready to go. After the standard hostel breakfast, I made my way to the airport. Things moved along in an orderly fashion, as is the case in Germany, and the plane left on time. It was a 3 ½ hour trip to Reykjavik. This time, we arrived in daylight, so I could see a bit of the terrain from the plane window. What I saw was flat and more brown than green – sort of like moonscape, with pools of water in various places. In the airport, there was very little time between planes for everyone on my flight. We had to go through passport control, and someone had arranged a crazy path of lines through the airport to contain the number of people all trying to get their passports stamped at the same time. One person tried to jump the line, and the “authorities” (who looked like teenage boys) set him straight. People were trying to catch flights to cities all over the U.S. and one or two other places, and WOW Air had delivered more than my plane to Reykjavik at that time. But we all made it through and onto our respective flights. Mine was a huge plane going to San Francisco, and it wasn’t completely full, which was nice. I had an empty seat next to me, so I could stretch out a bit. It was an 8 ½ hour trip – and WOW doesn’t provide movies or food (unless you buy it), so it’s up to you to fill the time. Again, because it was daytime – for the whole flight, I could see a lot out of the window. Greenland was beautiful – and, as my teachers taught me, it’s not green! I saw black mountains covered in snow – more in some places than in others. I took some pictures out of the window. (Forgot to do that in Iceland.) Then we flew over Canada, and finally, Montana and Idaho. Every so often, I could see land below.
The descent into the Bay Area was really beautiful!  When I arrive by plane, I usually come in from the East Bay over the bay and the San Mateo Bridge. This time, the arrival was from the north, over Marin. I must have seen the Richmond Bridge, and then the Golden Gate. We essentially flew over 280 down as far as Stanford, which is beautiful from the plane – as is Foster City. Then just below Stanford, the plane turned and came north again, into the airport. It was as if the pilot was saying, “See this gorgeous area?  See what you left behind when you went traveling? This is your home!”
Customs and passport control were a zoo, as usual, although my suitcase was waiting for me when I got through the line. They also have figured out how to speed up customs so it doesn’t take so long. And no one looked at my bag – or anyone’s, that I saw. I just handed them a piece of paper (answers to their questions about what I brought into the country) and that was it.  Brendan came to pick me up, and we drove home. Ben came in shortly afterwards. It’s good to be home.  My sleep schedule is off. I went to bed at 7:30 PM, and woke up again at 4:00 AM. It will take a while to get adjusted. Now for the laundry . . .
A good trip – and it’s good to be home.

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