I got back home around 6 PM after a fairly smooth trip back from Holland. My colleague Al was kind enough to drop me off at the Rotterdam train station early Saturday, where I caught a quick train to the Amsterdam airport. Heading through the Amsterdam airport was practically worry-free. The most time I spent doing anything in the airport was simply walking from the customs counter to the gate: the airport is huge!
At the Amsterdam airport, each gate has its own security screening, probably due to the amazing variety of airlines which serve it. I got all the way to the gate area wondering “hey, am I ever going to get screened for this flight?” Then I saw the metal detector and figured things out. A short hop later and I was in London.
In Gatwick airport I got in a long queue to be re-screened. I was told only when I got to the front of the line that I needed to check in at the airline gate first. D’oh! Add another thirty minutes to my travel. At least the UK hasn’t gone overboard with their security screening. Belts and shoes stay on and laptops stay in bags. It was a pleasant change, actually. Gatwick seems to wait to the last minute to tell you which gate your flight is leaving from, even though the plane at that gate must have been there hours beforehand.
American Airlines’ service to London has slipped a few notches. On any other international flight, you get complimentary drinks. The woman next to me was miffed – and rightly so in my opinion – to have to pony up five bucks for a gin and tonic. That’s just cheesy, especially after you’re already spending a fortune for the privilege to be wedged in a seat for 8 hours.
The flight was smooth for the most part. I’d requested a window seat so I could take some pictures. Instead the sky was a cloudy blanket below us. Bah.
The clouds finally cleared around Henderson, NC. I was admiring the green fields below when I felt the plane make a slight turn to the left. At that very moment I was startled to see a single-engine Piper airplane emerge from the clouds and pass right below my seat perhaps a mere thousand feet below! How ironic it would be to travel safely for 3500 miles only to crash a half-hour from home.
The plane landed on time and we filed slowly off. I got on the escalator to the Customs room but the room was already overflowing with passengers. Some idiot at the airline didn’t do the math: if you have x passengers on a Boeing 777 and the room they’re being stuffed into is built for x-50, maybe it would be wise to stop them at the top of the escalator before they get smushed. Instead people piled up at the bottom of the escalator with nowhere to go. Those people got crushed by the people above them on the escaltor, and so on and so forth. Only after many people fell over did the airline staff stop the escalator. Welcome to America.
In spite of the snafus I was in my car less than an hour after landing. Its good to be back.