Stranded. A bit.

Im Luft

Am Luft?

Whatever, this is being written on a laptop on a Lufthansa flight somewhere just east of Goose Bay, in the cold North Atlantic, or to be most accurate, 35,000 ft above it. It’s the 1st of August, as we head out to Poland. My reputation/self-esteem having taken quite a knock as the Department of Homeland security decided (yesterday) that I am of a fine and upstanding character, and should be given leave (without let or hindrance, I expect) to remain in these sceptered federated states for three years more. Ah, well.
It’s getting on for 1 a.m. and little sense can be expected from I. Mustn’t drain the battery, after all.

Did I mention that the flight is jam packed full of Jehovah’s Witnesses from all compass points of the USA, all going to Poland for a J-fest? Is our karma that weird?

Transatlantic flight elided.

Here’s ironic then, suffering the same fate as Green of Scritti did last week – left too long cooking on the JFK tarmac, we missed our fast transfer and are now faced with YET ANOTHER 5 hour wait in designer hell, i.e. an airport terminal, albeit a nice one like Munich (or Copenhagen). Lufthansa bought us dinner. The gay steward was called A. Kamp, I kid you not. So, to sleep or not to sleep, dass ist die (or der) Frage. For in that airport lounge of Hell what dreams may come. I am delirious now, after only 5 hours sleep followed by (so far) 21 hours of travel, interrupted.
See later. Words are failing me, hence photos.

Later, took the plunge and logged on at this nice wi-fi spot. Sleep lack is making thought processes dim and , er, interesting. We will reach a bed in about four hours, or a 30 hour trip. Ho Hum.

Oh, the toilets here are fantastic. recommended.