The Airport

I have a love/hate relationship with the airport. I love that being
here means I am off on a new adventure. I hate the hassle, though.

Take today. I had a meeting at a hotel near Heathrow Terminal 5. I had
to walk to the Terminal, take the elevator down a level, then go down
two more levels and wait 15min for a train. The train then took me one
stop to this weird junction where I had to follow this weird maze, go
on another elevator ride, more walking, two escalators... All before I
ended up outside of Terminal 3.
I checked into my flight with little drama - hallelujah for my BA
silver card which let's me hop to the first class line. Then I had to
go through security. I always pick the wrong line...this time I ended
up smack dab behind Ali Baba and what looked like three of his forty
thieves. These people were rocking turbans of some sort, massive
amounts of facial hair and were wearing what looked like old
bedsheets. They were setting off all kinds of alarms. They had to be
wanded, patted down, basically strip searched. And guess who was stuck
behind this little circus?

So I finally clear security and have to go through passport control.
Where the same thing happens EVERY time. "How long were you in the UK
for?" they ask. "I live here." I answer. Then there is much flipping
of passport pages and grumbling until they find my UK visa sticker.
*sigh*

I managed to avoid the sinful temptation that is the duty free
extravaganza (sooo hard. I don't wear a lot of makeup but I loves me
the packaging. So shiny, so pretty!) and ended up being pleasantly
surprised by my YO! Sushi salmon/tuna box. (Let's see if I still feel
that way in a few hours...)

I am now on the plane - after the mile long trek to the gate, the use
of some extremely dubious toilet facilities, and a jam-packed
weaving-all-over bus ride to the plane. I love how, even with assigned
seats, all these people were fighting to get on the plane. Where they
will sit for two and a half hours. Idiots.

But I am happy to be travelling and I can't wait to explore Vienna.

In other news, I have to get more pages added to my passport (tricky
feat as I have to be in town long enough to allow for the 10-14 day
processing time). When I got my passport in 2003, I never could have
imagined that I would have travelled - and would be travelling - so
much.

And despite my grumblings, I love it. Frankly, I start to feel
uncomfortable if I'm in town for too long. I'm not quite that guy from
Up In The Air, but I understand the bizarre comfort of the anonymity
of frequent travel. Especially these days when most hotel rooms tend
to be bigger than my current flat.

And now I am off... Shutting down before the flight attendant giving
me the evil eye makes it to my row.

Federman out.