And so it begins: I remember many years ago, tossing some stuff into a briefcase and heading out of the office on yet another trip, and having my secretary gush, “Oh, it must be so exciting to travel!”
Uh, yeah. Actually, back then it wasn’t too bad, but the ever-increasing restrictions and security measures, coupled with shrinking leg space and jam-packed flights, makes it a royal pain. Even getting to the airport is a challenge.
Gill drops me at the Akko train station. I wrestle my chunky bag up the stairs, only to discover that the luggage rack is full. I wrestle the bag down a few more steps (it is one of the double-decker trains) and find a seat. I have a foursome all to myself until a mildly deranged sits down and insists on half davening for an hour or more. He has bad breath.
The airport is not crowded, so that’s a blessing. I was worried that all the added security in preparation for Bush’s visit would complicate things, but it only takes half an hour to get through. I desperately hope for an empty seat next to me on this flight, but I won’t hold my breath.