With only minor ripples. Like, our flight from Lisbon gets held up on the taxiway at Newark because a stalled catering truck is blocking the way in.
In Newark, we clear passport control in 5 minutes with our Global Entry but we needn’t have hurried. Our flight to Denver is delayed by 30 minutes because there are 15 (Grubb says he counted them) wheelchair customers who need to be wheeled off the connecting flight before we can board. There are not enough wheelchairs, not enough pushers.
On arrival in Denver, again we aren’t able to pull into the gate. A fuel hose has gotten stuck in the ground close to the gate so we aren’t allowed to park there.
As the crazy world turns, these are merely tiny irritants for two old farts who consider themselves awfully lucky to be living this life, able to travel and in good health.
Mercifully, our final flight from Denver to Albuquerque leaves on time, arrives on time, an Uber driver is only a few minutes away and we are walking in our front door by 9:30 pm. Twenty hours after leaving the apartment in Lisbon.
Wait, what is vaguely tickling my lungs? Dust! It dawns on me. There was no dust in Portugal. And my hair is now hanging limply because…zero moisture in the air.
Unpacking consists of dumping all my clothes into the laundry hamper. I take a hot shower to wash away the grime of travel. Fall into bed.
Over and out.
Welcome home!