She stepped back, onto the crunchy snow, and I did Reverse and did a more or less controlled roll down her laneway to the low point – where my lane branched off. I walked back up, on the snowy side, and we got her luggage across the top of the lane and to my garage, then out the back to the waiting car.
Then there was the matter of getting up the common part of our shared Y-shaped lane, which also goes uphill. I drove as close to the side as possible, to get some traction on snow, and managed to get up – with a quick turn to the right at the top along what the snowplow had left for shoulder in order to avoid shooting out into any oncoming traffic.
Well, all that ate up the extra time I’d allotted for our trip to the airport – extra time because the forecast was rain, which, falling upon frozen pavement, makes for unpleasant driving. It’s been a nice mild winter…but all this hanging around the freezing point has its problems.
But first we had to deliver the dogs (already ensconced in the car) to our friend the dog-man, who would care for them in our absence. He has a long icy lane…but fortunately pretty flat. Then an hour-plus to the airport. One break – the rain didn’t happen.
It was getting pretty close to the wire by the time we got to the park-n-fly. Which was usually straightforward, but today the entire lot was FULL, and signs and guys were directing us to go far far down, to the very end of the property, by the storage sheds, and park along the fence, right under the sign saying NO PARKING – FIRE LANE.
Onto the shuttle.
Then the shuttle had to pick up a large Nordic family and their skis and lots of bags.
In the airport, the check-in machine accepted my passport (which I’d misplaced and thought was lost until 24 hours before departure, but never mind) and spit out boarding passes. But my daughter on a neighboring machine couldn’t make it work – because we were so late! So she got in a fortunately very short line and did the counter thing, while I was directed to the get-rid-of-luggage department. Then I couldn’t see her. I hovered for a bit, then went downstairs to the screening department. The guy directing traffic asked what my problem was – hesitating to get in line – and I explained. He said to go look for her and he’d put us thru the priority no-waiting line.
Just then she appeared, coming down the escalator. I figured the traffic guy would then put us in the regular line, but he’d observed the time on my boarding pass and put us thru the short line.
And screening was perfunctory.
And we were in time…and only a few minutes to wait.
(Fashion note – While waiting we both admired the interesting burgundy coat with little pink puffs, highlighted by a big burgundy and pink datura bloom, worn by a fellow passenger.)
Then of course followed the miserable flight. Going to Europe, up all night. At least this flight left at 5, getting us in at 2 our time, when I am still possessed of my faculties. It’s those flights that leave at 8 or 9 that are inhuman…
So we arrived at Frankfurt. Our connecting flight to Madrid was from Gate A42. So, lugging our hand-luggage (mine contained this somewhat weighty laptop), we went the interminable distance from A1 to A2 to A3 to A4… None of those little shuttle thingies in sight – except one zipping the other way and another full of newspapers. There were a few short flat escalators, which took us all of 2 gates each…
And I’d been looking forward to a German sausage. I always seem to land in Frankfurt for breakfast, or the middle of the night, or in a hurry, and never get one, dammit. This time we passed half a dozen stands, but we wanted to get to our gate and then reconnoiter. You know how this is gonna go…as we got higher and higher in the A numbers, the food stands disappeared. By the time we got to 42, we were in the wilderness.
However…and hoping you can stand the suspense, the outcome of that particular bit will have to wait until the next instalment, “Ich bein ein Amerikaner”. THEN, finally, with pictures, something about Madrid: “Glitter Goat ... and Lost Again!”