And....We're Back!

We're home. Home Sweet Home Actually, we've been home for a couple of days. I can't believe how fast time has flown since we've been back. Faster, it seems than it did while we were gone. Our trip home was wonderfully easy. I couldn't believe it! We had a few nervous moments that we wouldn't make our flights, but in the end, no problems!

When we checked into our hotel for our last night in Munich, we asked the woman (turns out she's the proprietor and AWESOME) how long it would take to get to the airport. She told us 40 minutes. See, we were a block and a half from the train station, and there is a train whose last stop is the airport. We knew we could just take that train, but we didn't know how long it would take. 40 minutes? Okay, so we planned on that and went about our last day. Then, as we were turning in for the night, we asked the man manning the front desk again, just to make sure. He said 20 minutes. After 2 weeks in Europe, we totally should have known better (there were like 14 stops between the main station, where we were, and the airport), but we decided the man must be right. How wrong could we be?

So, we got up at 6:00 (acutally, pre-6:00) and got ready and packed. I actually got to blow-dry my hair. Awesome! We headed down to breakfast at 7:00. It was a full German breakfast. Not the skimpy Italian kind with one roll and some butter & jelly (although Chris says the cappuccinos were out of this world everywhere in Italy - I, of course, wouldn't have a clue). No, this was the 6 different kinds of rolls, cheeses, spreadable cheeses, meats, jellies, yogurt, cereal, sweat breads, juices kind of breakfast. Yum, yum, yum! I totally enjoyed myself. And, of course, we spent longer than we should have. We didn't head out of our room until 7:35 ish, it took a while to check out (there were two pain in the neck German-speaking guys taking FOREVER), and then on the way to the train station, we needed to buy more postage at the automatic postage machine across the street from the train station.

We ran out of coin Euros and the machine didn't take paper, so we had to stand there trying to figure out what to do, while Chris was running the machine in German (yes, there was an English option). All the while, I'm looking at the 12-foot tall clock on the front of the train station. It's now 7:48. HOLY CRAP! We have to get going. We finally purchased enough postage for only 4 postcards (which left us with a couple to hand deliver - sorry guys), and booked it to the train station at 7:54. We had to make our way all the way through the train station, and when we finally got down to the S-bahn track, we had to run b/c our train was just making it's way to the platform. So, we made it on the 8:02 train.

At least we were on the correct train, right? Yeah, well, that was one of my consolations. Remember, our flight left at 10:00. At home, you're supposed to be 2 hours early for international flights. I was keeping in mind that Europeans don't have quite the same rules for flights that we do. They just kinda show up for flights sometime before take-off. But still....we're Americans. They like to jack with us. So, I was having moments of, shall we say, trepidation. I was NOT going to miss this plane. We were sitting right in the middle of two sets of doors on the train, each with a map of the stops on it, but weren't actually close enough to either to read the stops and know for sure where we were and how far out we were, which certainly didn't help! And my bag is totally heavy, so I am NOT about to get up from my flip-up-like-a-movie-theather-seat to check it. Of course, Chris is like, "oh, we're totally going to make it. We have nothing to worry about." Um, yeah, shut up! I really knew we were going to make it, but I had this vision of us getting denied and being stuck in Munich another day. Not that I don't like Germany. Don't get me wrong, but by that time my mind had wrapped itself around the fact that it was time to go home. Time to go home and cuddle my puppies and have some Taco Bueno with a real Diet Coke (sorry, Coke Light ain't the same) and a free bathroom around every corner. I informed Chris that I was going to be, "a 100% pissed-off girl," if we missed this plane. He said I was allowed.

Well, obviously we're home, so we didn't miss the plane. We RAN out of the train station, up the escalator trying to find the Delta counter. That was the hardest part of our day. It's funny, these European cities cram their people in. Everyone is right on top of each other, but boy, do they build their airports in a super-spread out fashion. There were 6 "halls" as they called them for check-in (A, B, C, D, E, and what else would make sense.....Z), and they were quite far apart. When we finally made it to Delta, there were 2 German speaking guys checking in ahead of us who, of course, were taking FOREVER. They have a little Ikea-sized desk at the front of the line where they check your passport, ask you security questions, and make sure you're on the plane that they're currently checking in for. Then, you go through the line and check in and get your boarding cards and give them your luggage. The check-in girl totally hated us. Chris suddenly decided we should try to carry on our backpacks - along with the other 2 carry ons we each had. You're kidding right? Well, we could try to repack them quick. (we only had a 1 hour layover in Atlanta, where we had to go through customs, and he was getting worried) NOT gonna happen, send them through! So, she did. Then, I asked if we could get our boarding cards for Atlanta too. She'd already done it. But, Chris refused to leave the desk. "Don't we need to wait for her to do our boarding cards for Atlanta?" He wouldn't believe they were in with the others. Finally, he did, and in true Chris-Bull-in-A-China-Shop fashion, he tripped all over our bags and the counter. I know she was glad to see us go. I won't kid 'ya 'bout it, though she was somewhat rude/superior acting in her own right (hello? you work the gate for an American airline in Germany? what do you have to be snobby about?).

So, we made it to passport control/security where there was only one person in front of us. Should be a piece of cake, right? Turns out, she's military, and her husband died in a motorcycle accident back in the States last week, so she's coming home to bury him. Now, she had 2 children with her who had a different name than she did because they were from her first marriage, and she was divorced from their father. The German agents just could not wrap their minds around the fact that she was their mother and had a different last name. Totally could not handle it. It probably also didn't help that the mom was white and the kids dad had obviously been African American. They don't seem to really understand that concept. They wanted all of the father info and then got even more confused b/c she was divorced, remarried, and the step-father had died. In the middle of it, the guy who was supposed to take only EU people took us and we went through with no problem. As we left, the agents were making the mom show her the family's military ids. Now, I'm all for security, but each of the children and the mom had an American passport plus military ids. Do you know how hard it is to counterfeit a US passport now? Darn near impossible. Let the woman through. Turns out, they did, and they ended up sitting right behind us on the plane. The mom was (understandably) in a daze for most of the 9.5 hour flight and didn't seem to mind one iota that her child was kicking the back of my seat for hours on end. I tried to give her grace, but really, I was ready to strangle that small child. Why me? Why does this ALWAYS happen to me?

Anyway, miraculously, we made it through to the gate by 9:00. An entire hour before the plane was scheduled to depart. Yay us! So, we went to the gift shop. And proceeded to spend 49.80 of the 50.20 Euros we had left. We went home with 20 cents. Too funny, huh? We decided, we could change it, but we'd loose money on it anyway, so let's spend it. I got an Oktoberfest t-shirt for 10- and we got an awesome stein that we'd seen at the Oktoberfest for 56- for only 29- (yep, you read that right, the airport was CHEAPER), and a little shot glass stein for.......well, for the rest. Too fun! Finally we made our way to the gate where I tried to take a picture, but before I could get it done, some power-trippy 18 year old yelled at me. Hello? Totally legal, but didn't want to argue with her b/c I wanted on that plane.  Said girl started to announce that we'd be delayed due to traffic, but in the middle of it was told to shut it. Wish it could have been me. And we boarded on time. In true European fashion, Chris and I stood off to the side and without really meaning to, jumped ahead of everyone in our section to get on the plane.

They boarded the plane from the front to the back. Damn Europeans. They're like teenagers. They have to do things their way even though our tried and tested way works better. We were, of course, at the back of the plane (where they apparantly put people who purchase their tickets 9 months ahead) and I was lucky enough to bomp every single person with the water bottle attached to the backpack I was wearing. They loved me! We were 30 minutes late leaving the gate, and we KNEW we were going to miss our connection in Atlanta (better their than Munich), but we made up tons of time in the air and were actually early. Compared to the horrific Air France flight (did I mention I'm NEVER flying them again?) on the way over, this flight was a dream. There was more space, and it was temperate. Chris even got cold. Just the way a flight should be. The flight attendants weren't French with those quintessential French attitudes (come on, you know what I'm talking about). It was all around a good flight. Oh, except Chris said his meal stunk. Mine was great, though. We were a little surprised at the stewardesses (no stewards). They all obviously had a LOT of years of service, if you get my drift, but they weren't that friendly nor upbeat. In fact, a couple of them were pushy broads. No matter, we watched our 3 movies and the special on Queen (I was in heavan) and were happy. Surprisingly, I'd never seen any of the 3 movies. How often does that happen? It was fun, b/c one was Bewitched with Nicole Kidman, and I refuse to go put one dime in her pocket, so I don't tend to see her movies, but it was really cute. I'd totally watch it again.

So, we made it to Atlanta. But not before I 100% stumped the flight attendant with a question about the Immigration/Customs form. When you are family members traveling together and have the same last name, you only have to fill out one form, but it asks how many family members are traveling with you. Do you include yourself and answer 2 or not and therefore answer 1? Totally stumped her. We decided 1 b/c it would be the easiest to explain. Turns out, it wasn't an issue. Customs was a breeze. The nationals line was way shorter than the visitors line, and as we came up to it, they directed us to the other side where there was NO line. Except there was a TON of people coming from the other side and the people ahead of us were totally dilly-dallying, taking their own sweet time. Making me CRAZY. Trust me, if I'd been in a car, they would have been honked at. Remember, we had 1-hour to make our connection, and it was ticking by now, baby! So, Chris and I finally managed to skirt the slow folks and made it to a line with just a  couple of people in it. When I looked over and there was a line with no one waiting an a guy who just finished up. We all know I'm the lousiest line picker on earth - totally NOT my forte, but I got lucky this time! I headed over there and yep, it was a real line that we could go through! Hot dog! We were the first people from our plane down at the carosel. Of course, we were some of the last people on the plane, which means it was first off and at the bottom of the pile of luggage they were putting on the carosel. But, we finally got it, handed in our semi-confusing form (she barely even looked at it), smiled sympathetically at the guy whose 15 bags were being gone through inch by inch, handed off our luggage to be reloaded on our next plane, went through security (who couldn't have cared one iota less that we had glass), and booked it to the airport train to get to our terminal. After an excruciatingly long potty break for Chris, we finally made it to the Wendy's near our gate. We were really hoping for Pizza Hut (we'd been served vegetarian pizza on the plane and had a hankering for the real stuff....although the plane pizza wasn't that bad), but were totally willing to settle! We made it to our gate in plenty of time, talked to some guy from Columbia, SC who was going to Tulsa on business, got on the plane and made our way to our seats in row 19...the last row on the plane. We were cursed with lousy seat assignments on every flight. On this tiny plane, the stewardess slides out a seat from the back wall and sits in the aisle, right in front of the lavatory door and practically touching the passengers on either side of the aisle. She was a lovely gal, originally from Jamaica. The guy on the otherside of the aisle had been in Equatorial Guinea selling nutrional supplements (he's from Claremore). Very interesting!

Finally, we were home. A half an hour early no less! I called my mom from the plane. She still hadn't left to pick us up. We collected our now extremely heavy packs from baggage and didn't have to wait but a few minutes for Bob. She ferried us off to El Tequila for the best welcome home dinner ever and then took us to our puppies. While we didn't want the vacation to end, it was good to be home. Good to have puppy breath on our faces (if you don't have dogs, you won't understand) and listen to normal radio (not Euro-trash) and watch Fox News and be assured of a hot shower, (and more importantly, a toilet whenever I need it) and the list goes on and on and on and on.

I will tell you one thing. I now know why so many European women don't shave their legs. Never mind the fact that only prostitutes did it for years and years. Nope, it's because their showers are an average of about 2 feet by 2 feet and enclosed with walls. Lemme tell ya, there's NO was this non-limber gal could make that stretch!

Oh, and I know you were all worried....every single stitch of our glass made it home safe and sound. And there was a LOT. That includes Chris' purloined liter mug which was packed in his checked backpack and our very important Munich mug from the Starbucks.

We're already thinking about where we should go next year. Chris says no matter where we go, we need to start with a week in Vernazza.