The Road Home Part.2

After getting through security I wanted something to eat. The coffee place in the airport totally defeated me. I swear that all of the drinks had totally made up names, I couldn't figure out what anything was since there weren't descriptions posted. I think in the ten minutes I was in the cafe one guy managed to order by questioningly asking for coffee. I settled for a Powerade and ate an energy bar I had. The pastries set out on the counter were just for the look apparently. The girl waiting on me explained that they weren't for sale, that they just bought them as decoration every day. There was some food in a cooler, but it was all overloaded sandwiches that looked to be mostly mayo.

Until the gate opened I talked with another American I'd run in to, a child psychologist from Louisiana. It was definitely interesting and unexpected conversation at that hour in the morning. She'd spent her career studying the Scots and the (until recently) better performance of their children in school. Apparently in more recent history the academic performance of American children has caught up. The most curious thing to come out of the conversation was that we both noticed that the tickets for our transatlantic flights listed departure times that we're a lot earlier than they were originally supposed to be. She was worried she'd have trouble finding her way around in Schipol, and I offered to show the way since I'd been there before.

Eventually the gate opened. We had to walk out to the plane, so I took a last opportunity to pause and look at Wales in the light of sunrise. The Cardiff airport sits in a brilliantly green plane with some rolling hills and scattered trees in the distance. A light rain was falling.

On the flight I was sitting with a Spaniard who didn't speak any english, so we didn't talk. I munched on the small breakfast we were given and tried to get a little more sleep.

When we landed I ran in to the psychologist, but she decided not to follow me. She walked in the opposite direction of her gate. In the crowd I couldn't get her attention. I found an information screen showing departures, and noticed my plane was already boarding! I was going to have to move it to get through security and customs. I got to my gate fast, and despite a Romanian woman skipping the entire line and causing some chaos at customs, I was through quickly. My UK visa satisfied the official that I wasn't a threat, and as I could see on his computer screen it added several pages of data to the file linked to my passport. This data included multiple photos, some taken at airport security checkpoints. I guess it just goes to show you that someone is always watching.

Security wasn't a major problem, I was searched and made to turn my pockets out. I also had to empty my wallet. I did make the flight, assigned to an aisle seat next to a Ukrainian teenage girl. Her english was limited but we both respected each others space and I helped her fill out her customs form. The only out of the ordinary moment happened while I was sleeping. I tend to slump forward on to the tray table to sleep on my crossed arms. I'll let my iPod play in the background to drown out the ambient noise. I can tune out my music if I need to. This girl, sometime after I feel asleep. Wadded several pillows up behind me, making a wall of pillows, and feel asleep on that. When I woke up about an hour later I sat up rather suddenly, so I catapulted her upright too. We had a mutual groggy what's going on moment.