Travel. Boring. Boring as hell, so I gotta find a way to amuse myself. And does it come as any surprise that the amusement comes from my lovely camera? Well, on my last flight home I decided to photograph almost all of it. I’m upset because I couldn’t get a shot of this 10 year old girl who gave me the stink eye for my entire time waiting on line to check my bags in Sweden. Here’s an approximation of what the ten year old’s stink eye looked like:
“You’re slipping red. That look used to scare me. The withering glance of the goddess.” Well, good I didn’t take the picture because my camera would have turned to stone.
Nevertheless, the journey had its highlights. We boarded on the tarmac:
Come on Lufthansa. Who am I? Brezhnev? Otto in the climactic ending scene of A Fish Called Wanda, when he is schooled by John Cleese’s character about the real outcome of the Vietnam War? Reeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeevenge!
And, Lufthansa, bane of my existence, not only did I get to breathe in diesel fuel, but I got my backpack with my laptop taken away from me at the last second:
Herr Lufthansa employee assured me that this expensive appendage was safe and sound. Why was it taken away? Because there wasn’t enough space on the plane. My god, look at this plane, full of people:
Look here, barely any space:
And, check out this fat guy I got stuck next to:
No, I don’t have an imaginary friend. Lufthansa, uh, what? Do you have imaginary friends, that you see a full plane and I do not?
Well, never fear. Me and the bag were reunited, joyfully:
And of course, I got more random shots, of a random airport somewhere:
OK, OK, its Dusseldorf, Germany. Nice airport, featuring what I believe every airport should feature:
An H&M. I need another article of clothing like I need a hole in the head, but I went in anyway.
And then there is the little matter of this thing:
I was kinda worried, because the luggage check in lady in Sweden said “LTU? I’ve never heard of that.” Neither had I, but it turned out to be a real airline. In fact, Germany’s second largest after my luggage stealer. I write that because my “fan(s)” from that part of the world will fill me in on this if I didn’t write it here.
Anyway, it is a real airline and we flew in an actual plane:
This is one of these newer airline, so they give all kind of trinkets to keep people from going insane being stuck in that pressurized tin can for eight hours:
Ear plugs, face mask, mystery object. All things to make the flight just that much more pleasant.
Mystery object:
I stared at it and wondered what this could be? Flashlight? Something this ain’t that blog. No, its just this:
There was eating. There won’t be a photo, because that gets its own entry. My long time fan(s) have to know that.
And, the air travel gods were smiling on me:
Three empty seats. Three. My butt still fell asleep when I tried the regular sleeping. At least I didn’t have to contort myself into some kind of weird positions to go to sleep.
Oh and just as a bonus to close out this thrilling post. Helga and Hans are heading into the Schwarzwald to do god only knows what:
Ich liebe es!
