I’m home, after a journey that, with transfers and trips to and from airports, took about 35 hours, the longest part of which was the fourteen hour stretch from Dubai to New York. This was once again spent in an economy class seat on an Emirates A340-500, only this time beside a friendly but restless Indian student with a very different idea of personal space from mine, bumping not only elbows into me, but also back, feet, and seat belt straps. The tedium was not helped by an entertainment interface which hung every few hours and an SMS credit card swipe which refused to read any of my cards.
(Also, I’m not normally one to wish gross and uncharitable things on people, but to the prissy, pushy Filipina woman who considers a queue to the lavatory important only when she is at the head of it: I hope that the next time you’re in the middle of using an airline lav, the plane hits turbulence so hard that the chemical flush splashes your buttcheeks.)
It was a singular joy, however, to land at JFK and emerge from International Arrivals to see Amy waiting for me, to keep me company for the duration of my transfer to the plane home to DC. Thanks, Amy. That made my trip.
