After getting extremely excited that the taxi took me to the airport via the infamous AUTOBAHN (I was “vroom vroom!”-ing out loud the whole way, lol), I arrived at Frankfurt Airport only to find, for the first time in my life, I didn’t have to stand in the super long line to get my ticket (i.e. I was cised). There was only one person in line for British airways and, seeing that there was someone else in line, the lady who was helping them called her “colleague” over to the other kiosk to help me. And they both “spreckenzied” English (german for “’spoke’ English”). Anyways, I got my ticket and went through security no problem. Then I happened upon the duty free shop.
A funny thing about America. See we across the pond have what you call “states.” So 99 times out of 100, when we travel, the duty free shop (with its vast array of colognes, makeup, and fine liquors at cheap and tax-free prices) comes off as the biggest tease because we are traveling inside the country. In Europe, on the other hand, it seems if you want to go anywhere of interest (i.e. another major city), you have to travel from one country to another. Well guess what? I qualify, so I was up in that piece tryina come up on some deals. Unfortunately, the only thing I saw of interest was the Cliquot bottle with the sleeve I saw last year in the states during 2007 New Years. 33,40 euro→rough conversion to dollars at $1.40 per equals $46.
I feel you but I don’t feel you. It’d be nice to have a bottle to pop with Chris and Ming, but its not that serious. Besides, considering the currency rape that is the British lb., I’ll probably need that anyways to buy a small fry from McDonalds.
On my way to the gate, I thought about how painless this going through the airport process had been. *me thinking to myself* “Yeah, it was after 8pm on a Thursday evening, but most American airports would have had lines out the wazoo at the ticket counter and/or security check in…and they would have made me take off my shoes. I mean, even Heathrow had me go back through security on my layover to Germany. And they told this girl that she couldn’t take her water bottle through security. WHERE DO YOU THINK SHE GOT THE WATER FROM IN THE FIRST PLACE! AND they would have made me walk across the entire airport to my gate, and here gate E2 is…” I spoke too soon. Guess what? Another security check in. Now that doesn’t make ANY sense. Were the people at the first check-in that incompetent?
I asked if there were any restaurants after this check-in and she said no. So I went to the nearest food/drink area to write this blog.
After writing everything except these last sentences, I went through security, again...and this time they made me take off my belt.
Hows that for anti-climacticism. Who knows, I may come back later and jazz it up a bit with some pics. Actually I have one, but since the electric outlets in London are different than those in Germany, the pics may have to wait until my return to Berger Strasse.
A funny thing about America. See we across the pond have what you call “states.” So 99 times out of 100, when we travel, the duty free shop (with its vast array of colognes, makeup, and fine liquors at cheap and tax-free prices) comes off as the biggest tease because we are traveling inside the country. In Europe, on the other hand, it seems if you want to go anywhere of interest (i.e. another major city), you have to travel from one country to another. Well guess what? I qualify, so I was up in that piece tryina come up on some deals. Unfortunately, the only thing I saw of interest was the Cliquot bottle with the sleeve I saw last year in the states during 2007 New Years. 33,40 euro→rough conversion to dollars at $1.40 per equals $46.
I feel you but I don’t feel you. It’d be nice to have a bottle to pop with Chris and Ming, but its not that serious. Besides, considering the currency rape that is the British lb., I’ll probably need that anyways to buy a small fry from McDonalds.
On my way to the gate, I thought about how painless this going through the airport process had been. *me thinking to myself* “Yeah, it was after 8pm on a Thursday evening, but most American airports would have had lines out the wazoo at the ticket counter and/or security check in…and they would have made me take off my shoes. I mean, even Heathrow had me go back through security on my layover to Germany. And they told this girl that she couldn’t take her water bottle through security. WHERE DO YOU THINK SHE GOT THE WATER FROM IN THE FIRST PLACE! AND they would have made me walk across the entire airport to my gate, and here gate E2 is…” I spoke too soon. Guess what? Another security check in. Now that doesn’t make ANY sense. Were the people at the first check-in that incompetent?
I asked if there were any restaurants after this check-in and she said no. So I went to the nearest food/drink area to write this blog.
After writing everything except these last sentences, I went through security, again...and this time they made me take off my belt.
Hows that for anti-climacticism. Who knows, I may come back later and jazz it up a bit with some pics. Actually I have one, but since the electric outlets in London are different than those in Germany, the pics may have to wait until my return to Berger Strasse.
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