5.22.06 Over Rumania & Bulgaria

We land in Istanbul in about an hour. It has been an interesting journey. Anne and I lucked out when the person at the gate in Houston found that we were ticketed to sit apart. She noticed on my passport that my birthday is the same as hers. She told us to wait a bit and then called us back up. She had gotten us two seats together, window and aisle. What we didn’t know until we boarded the plane was that the seats were in the first row behind a bulkhead and emergency exit. There was a huge amount of leg room—even more than in first class. It was great. Anne let Michael have her seat for part of the flight.

The food and especially the drink on Lufthansa were very good. The coffee and beer—Warsteiner—were superb.

While the German airline is great, the opposite is the case with the Frankfurt Airport. It was one of the worst airport experiences I’ve ever had. We had a five hour layover. There is, for starters, hardly anyplace to sit down except in gate areas. We sat in various gate areas and were thrown out of each one when it was time for people to check in for the flight from that gate. The food at the airport was poor and they allow smoking everywhere in the airport, so the air in the eating areas hangs heavy with smelly carcinogens. I searched all over the airport for an electrical outlet so I could plug in my laptop. None was to be found. Finally I noticed that in the place where they leave the golf carts that they have outlets into which to plug these electric vehicles. I was able to sit on the floor there and do a bit of writing. For a time, Linda, Michael and I sat on one of the carts, until the driver came along and needed it. The prices of liquor in the “duty free” shop were higher than the prices with tax at home. Telephones are nowhere to be found. The whole atmosphere of the place is dismal.

When we went to our gate area, for some unknown reason we had to go though security again, even though that wasn’t the case at most other gates. The metal detector must be very sensitive, and Anne, Michael, and I all set it off. Instead of letting us remove belts and such and go through again, as they do at all other airports I have been in, they gave us all a feel-up full body search. I finally had to send my wallet through the X-ray machine.

Once inside the gate area, there are no restrooms, food or drink. There is a smoking area. It is, however, is not separated but totally out in the open, polluting the whole area. When our flight was finally called, there were no lines or order. It was like cattle herding—or cattle with no herding—to get to the door to the bus to the plane.

German efficiency? Not here.

The flight took off late. About fifteen minutes into the flight, the plane was struck by lightning. I saw the jagged bolt hit the wing outside my window. The pilot came on the intercom and said we had been hit by lightning, but all systems were operating normally, so we would continue on to Istanbul. Several minutes later, though, he came on again to say there was a small problem that would need to be repaired, but it could not be done in Istanbul, so we would have to return to Frankfurt. Cruel and unusual punishment! So we did a Frankfurt-to-Frankfurt roundtrip.

It occurred to me that we had been struck by lightning on the road to various religious sites, much as Paul had been on the road to Damascus. Fortunately, we were not knocked off our donkey to the ground.

They got us another plane fairly quickly, and we are again en route to Istanbul, but we won’t arrive until about 10 PM. But we’re having more good food, coffee, and Warsteiner, so what is there to complain about?

- RSM