Mar 08
3
Safe Home
Posted by Stephen3
Tags: affection, family, home, staying together, travel
My flight from Frankfurt was held up for five minutes while they got somebody from maintenance to come and make an adjustment to one of the cockpit instruments. Because of that brief delay the plane missed its departure slot, and we sat on the ground and waited for an hour before the control tower gave us permission to leave. At a busy airport running at full capacity, you take your opportunities when they come. Any hesitation is fatal. Then again, I’m sure the pilot would rather not make a long flight with a faulty instrument. It just seemed ironic that having been delayed for a whole day my trip was delayed yet again.
The aircraft was a Boeing 777, my first flight on that type. Several years ago I read a book on how they developed and built that plane, and ever since I’ve been wanting to fly on one. I’ve flown many trips in the intervening years, long distance and short, but this was my first time on a triple seven. My first impression was of the roominess inside, the high ceiling, the very large but unobtrusive overhead bins. The bins were so big, in fact, that I could stand my laptop bag upright rather than lie it flat. And yet even the window seat passenger could stand up straight without hitting his head on the bin. Good design. My second impression was of the absolutely huge, massive, enormous engine just outside my window. It’s the biggest jet on any plane I’ve ever flown. Truly awe-inspiring. The third feature I actually had to go looking for. My book devoted a whole chapter to the design of the doors, their claim to fame being that all eight doors were exactly the same, something hitherto unheard of in airliner design. Boeing claimed to save $28 million on the doors alone, by making them all the same. So I went for a walk down the aisle, checking out the doors. Sure enough. Identical. The final feature I enjoyed the whole flight. This was a headrest that could be bent and molded to fit my head. Very comfortable. I slept more than I expected, and it was a relaxing flight.
We arrived at the same time as every other plane that day, it seemed, and immigration was the busiest I’ve ever seen it. My luggage took forever to arrive on the carousel, and for a while there I wondered if I was going to have to fill out another missing bag form. Thankfully no. My suitcase eventually showed up and I made my way out to the ground transportation counter with no further delay. I was almost home.
I’d booked a seat on an airport shuttle van, but since my return was delayed by a day and I hadn’t showed up at the scheduled time the shuttle company had canceled my booking. Now they looked to see where they could fit me in. They were very helpful, very polite. Another hour passed. Finally they called my name, I stepped into a van, and in due course stepped out onto my driveway. Home at last. Such a relief.
The boys were terribly excited to see me, all three crowding around as I took off my coat inside the kitchen door. Daniel wanted to help me with my suitcase. Joel stood there holding my slippers ready (this is Joel’s daily delight, to bring me my slippers when I arrive home). Crawling Micah tried to push through the press of the older two to see his daddy. Debbie was quiet and restrained in her welcome, relieved to see me. She’d expected me home much earlier in the day–I’d expected to be home earlier–and had been getting worried when hours passed and I still wasn’t there. The delays had been hard on all of us.
I spent the bulk of the evening with the boys. I shared out the remains of a packet of chocolate cookies (biscuits, for you non-Americans) and the boys considered my souvenir duty fulfilled. Many times throughout the evening Joel said to me, “I love you Daddy, welcome home.” Nice to be missed. Good to be loved.
It’s an early night for me tonight. I’d like to settle back into my home time zone with as little fuss as possible.
