08-27-2016, 03:40 PM
I'm sitting here in the Toronto trying to convince myself to crack out the word. There are so many stories left to tell. Not the least of which was the prostitute on our route to the airport who gave me a big smile as I passed. I blame it on the Mercedes Van we were in.
The check in desk at the Budapest Airport was a treat. Our driver phoned ahead and porters met us at the curb to shift the bags. But at the counter it was nothing but nightmare. I spent 35 minutes with the clerk trying to straighten out my ticket. In Toronto, they finally decided I was traveling with enough gear that it should be declared. They took me into the back room to explain why I can't travel the world with this much gear without filling out the proper paper work. Agent Carter let me go with a warning and a promise if he sees me again without the proper papers my fine will on the catastrophic side
But I'm tired. My stomach still roils. There is still plenty of time for the travel imps to play mischief with me. Although, thankfully, the woman who latched onto me on the Budapest leg of the flight is thankfully gone. I even saw her in the little room with Agent Carter. And my flight has been delayed. But only fifteen minutes. Although 15 minutes seems like a margin of error rather than an actual delay. Best of all, while I wait here, there is another flight boarding for Los Angeles. The woman friend is on the earlier flight.
The check in desk at the Budapest Airport was a treat. Our driver phoned ahead and porters met us at the curb to shift the bags. But at the counter it was nothing but nightmare. I spent 35 minutes with the clerk trying to straighten out my ticket. In Toronto, they finally decided I was traveling with enough gear that it should be declared. They took me into the back room to explain why I can't travel the world with this much gear without filling out the proper paper work. Agent Carter let me go with a warning and a promise if he sees me again without the proper papers my fine will on the catastrophic side
But I'm tired. My stomach still roils. There is still plenty of time for the travel imps to play mischief with me. Although, thankfully, the woman who latched onto me on the Budapest leg of the flight is thankfully gone. I even saw her in the little room with Agent Carter. And my flight has been delayed. But only fifteen minutes. Although 15 minutes seems like a margin of error rather than an actual delay. Best of all, while I wait here, there is another flight boarding for Los Angeles. The woman friend is on the earlier flight.
As a matter of fact, my anger does keep me warm