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I had plenty of time at Heathrow to catch my connecting flight to Chicago, after arriving from Amsterdam that Saturday afternoon, December 14th. I met a couple who were on vacation in Spain, and headed home to Chicago (Naperville, if I recall correctly). It was fun to yak it up with them a bit, as we wound our way to the boarding gate.
As usual getting through security was a production, more like a public dressing room, than an airport checkpoint. But thankfully there was no process glitch or time squeeze. I didn't have to queue for a long time, just to check in. Getting my boarding pass was quick and easy at a satellite counter for British Airways.
The flight home, though, was full, and I had the pleasure of sitting in the middle seat of the middle set of seats. The two young women to my left and right were fine. They were quiet, and I felt no desire to converse.
I felt hemmed-in, however, and I was too restless, maybe too rested actually, to nap. This was an American Airlines plane, and it's clearly not meant for long hauls. There was no private video screen, for instance, and I had to angle my neck up to see the closest one. Moreover, the audio, like that of my laptop, wasn't working. I was also too tired mentally to focus on reading, except maybe in the last hour of the flight.
The flight felt interminable in that sardine can. But ah, oh, well, life is fine and life is good. I was very grateful for this European tour, courtesy of my Kuwaiti client.
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