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Wednesday, May 28, 2008

Flying High



I haven't had a real vacation for 2 years now and the wear and tear is starting to show. I'm much grouchier and moodier than normal and so exhausted that sometimes I worry I have some terrible, undiagnosed disease. But - my blood work came back normal - so I decided to diagnose myself, I do work in the medical field so I'm qualified, right? While I'm fairly certain you will not find this diagnosis in the "official" ICD-9 book, I do exhibit every symptom, so I'm pretty sure it exists in more than just my rapidly deteriorating mind. DX: 999.00, NAE D/O NOS (i.e. No Adventure or Excitement Disorder, no other symptoms). The only cure appears to be an extended vacation in Prague or Italy or Krakow or......

In an effort to maintain my fragile sanity, I have begun reminiscing and reliving some of my favorite experiences from past adventures. This is where a travel journal pays off (thanks Becky for giving me my first one ever!) And I'm thankful for my slightly annoying and obsessive habit of journaling every detail - it's making my memories much sharper after so many years.

So, here's the first retelling of a very long line of funny memories. I hope you enjoy reading about them as much as I enjoyed creating them.

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It all began with one very long Lufthansa flight from Newark to Munich, a connection I almost missed due to my inexperience and a fumble with my passport. The connecting flight was late (aren't they always?) so the airline had a buggy waiting to pick me up and rush me to a different terminal where an entire airplane full of restless passengers was waiting to depart.....waiting just for me. It was mortifying to be rushed through the airport on what amounts to a golf cart as the driver honked his horn and yelled in a harsh Jersey accent for people to "get out of the way!"

Upon arriving at the gate I was greeted by an impatient ground crew entirely lacking in southern hospitality. I was bewildered, terrified and on the verge of tears at the thought of flying over the ocean to a different country, completely and utterly alone. Next I boldly boarded the plane and let's just say that the welcome I received was a little "hostile". People were angry to be kept waiting and glared at me while simultaneously ducking as my backpack and I made our way to the very last row because, of course, my desired window seat had been reassigned.

I was herded to the middle of a row of 8 seats in between huge German men in need of a shower.... Men who spoke no English and kept touching me and smiling at me and saying apparently hilarious things to each other in German. I'm pretty sure they were flirting but it's always possible that I had spinach in my teeth or toilet paper on my shoe.... But wait, it gets better. This
was a long time ago, years before the smoking ban went into effect, so guess what? I was lucky enough to spend 8 hours sitting in a cloud of unfiltered, German nicotine, a few smelly feet away from the bathrooms. Between the nicotine, body odor and bathrooms is it any wonder I couldn't see the more "charming" qualities of my seatmates?

After a sleepless night sitting in a seat that did not recline, I guess you could say that my big adventure was off to a bumpy start.
And although I didn't know it there would be more turbulence on the ground than there was in the air. I would go on to spend a few hours sleeping off my jetlag on a subway bench; blow $22 on subway tickets because I was hopelessly confused and desperately lost; walk several hours from hostel to hostel trying in vain to find a place to lay my weary head; and finally book the last hotel room available and promptly fall fast asleep until 8:45 am the next morning.

When I emerged from that flight I was a terrified, exhausted girl with bloodshot eyes, flat hair and no makeup, but over the next few weeks I would grow into a woman bursting with excitement, joy and a deepened faith in God and her own abilities. I returned home with an awakened spirit and I'm determined not to let it fall asleep again.