The Flight

What can one say about air travel?  (Now keep it clean folks).  For the most part, I don’t mind flying, but after living over 10 years on the east coast, I’ve become a huge fan of the train.  In this case, that wasn’t an option, so hello Philadelphia airport. 

In the beginning, all was well: security was a breeze and the International concourse is a lot less crowded than the domestic areas.  Plus, we were able to upgrade at the last minute with FF miles (and a healthy cash lubricant) for the flight to Brussels, which meant we could cross our legs without turning into a pretzel.

Oh how I love business class.  You board first and sit drinking champagne while they herd the rest of the passengers on the plane.  It seemed a short trip to me, as the seat reclined and I got a couple of good naps in during the eight hour flight.  Then we arrived in Brussels. 

We got off the plane but had to go through security before we could continue to the next terminal.  I expected no trouble, but alas, that was not the case.  Marty’s carry-on had *issues* and ended up going through the x-ray machine four times, the last try completely empty.  The culprit?  Metal collar stays.  Then we had to repack the entire bag and almost run to terminal T which required a tram ride to get there.  Before one can board the tram, security checks each person’s boarding card and passport.  After 20 minutes it became apparent we would never make our flight.  Luckily, it also became apparent to the airline which waved the entire line (at this point over 40 people) through.

Unable to upgrade this leg, we rode coach.  Now, I wouldn’t say Brussels Air was any worse or better than any other airline, but coach is coach and it sure isn’t business class.  We did have plenty to eat, but sleeping was just about impossible unless you’re comfortable tying yourself in a knot.  And this flight seemed *much* longer than eight hours. 

I saw two amazing things on this flight.  The first was my glimpse of African desert which was brown, empty, and VAST.  I’ve heard people use the phrase “as far as the eye can see” which is a perfect description.  I watched for a while and nothing changed, no people, houses, animals, nothing, just sand.  I gave me a very eerie feeling.  Then I watched the sunset: lovely shades of pink, hot orange, and red.  And it went fast, initially barely dim, then darkness. 

As our flight left Brussels late, we arrived at Kigali in the dark.  Going through immigration was a breeze and looking down from above we could see our suitcases circling on the baggage carousel.  It seemed the Philadelphia airport could learn a thing or two from the Rwandans about speedy baggage delivery.  Or so we thought until Marty’s guitar didn’t arrive.  Several other folks were missing items, so the lost and found line was quite long.  By this time, Jenn, her husband Alex, and Susan from the US Embassy had been waiting for us for well over three hours.  We finally completed the paperwork for the lost guitar, hooked up with our escorts, and got to the hotel.  It was a LONG day!

Next up:  Kigali