on getting there

I know international flights are really interesting to the general public (or not), so here’s a highlights reel for you:

Mom & Dad drove me to the Cleveland airport, during which drive I ate my last PB&J for the foreseeable future and also sewed patches into my boot lining.
I went through security.
I flew to Chicago.
I took a train to the international terminal.
I went through security again.
I sat in Chicago for four hours, during which time I made a few phone calls and ate a pita that bit back.
While I was eating my feisty pita, apparently I didn’t hear the announcement made throughout the whole airport calling my name.
I came to my gate ~25 minutes before my flight, found it empty, and was asked, “Are you Kathryne?” Whoops.
I flew to Zurich, during which flight I watched Inside Out (intentionally) and a succession of movies starring explosions, scantily clad women, and Jackie Chan (unintentionally) (thanks, man sitting next to me).
I brushed my teeth in a bathroom in Zurich.
I went through security again.
I sat in Zurich for an hour, during which time I was really thirsty, but I didn’t have any euros, so I just stayed thirsty.
I flew to Moscow.
I ran into Vickie, Claire, and Emily in a bathroom in Moscow.
We went though passport control (it only took an hour).
We missed our bus.
We called the bus to come back.
We missed it that time too, but it drove around again.
We drove an hour and a half to the hotel, during which ride we listened to an elections commentary radio program.
We arrived!

As you can see, travel was pretty much without incident, unless you count going through security of some kind at literally every one of the four airports I set foot in.

But hey, the patches in my boot lining stood up marvelously to all of the ons and offs!

Also, as I write this on Tuesday night (I suppose really only 52 hours or so after landing in Moscow), I am only now beginning to feel tired. I’ve been on a serious adrenaline kick, which has been handy for everything except sleeping. It’s like I’m only getting half of the jet lag symptoms… which, honestly, I don’t mind.


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