It’s T-minus 3 days until departure for Europe, and there’s still a ton of stuff left to do. Some Europe related, and some work related. But it’ll all get done. It always does.
The flight to London is not something I’d normally look forward to because of how long it is and how little leg room you’re given. Commercial air travel can be miserable, can’t it? I mean, it takes a lot to make me unhappy in the air. But! I’m going over on a new Boeing 777, a plane I’ve never been on or even seen up close. I’m hoping I’ll somehow finagle my way into visiting the cockpit. That’s now prohibited on U.S. airlines because of terrorists, but we’re flying British Airways, and on long international flights they’ll sometimes allow it if you’re a pilot. I’m bringing my pilot license to show the flight attendant, hoping she’ll at least be amiable to asking the captain if he’d be let some bozo from economy class up for a visit. I’m banking on the fact that Atlantic crossings are as boring for the flight crew as they are for the passengers.
This isn’t one of those prepackaged guided tour vacations. I’m hoofing across England, France, and Italy with nothing but a backpack and a Eurorail pass. Oh, and I’m taking a hard-bound journal and an Advanced Photo System camera, so there’ll be lots to add to the House of Rapp when I get back.