Homeward Bound

8 April 2015 Wednesday

Our driver meets us at the hotel and helps us carry our bags to his waiting van some distance from the hotel. Parking is a challenge in this neighborhood because it is designed to be a pedestrian thoroughfare. A fairly silent guy, we travel to the Malaga Airport thinking our own thoughts. Minutes later we disembark at Terminal 3 to find our way to SwissAir.

The service desk has not yet opened so we are first in line and first to hear there is an air controller's strike in France which will delay our flight by an hour and a half.  We pass through security smoothly and settle down at the gate for the long wait. We watch St Vincent on the iPad and eat lunch. We are informed by loudspeaker that it is our duty to notice when the plane begins boarding because it is not announced. The gate changes. Travelers begin lining up at the door waiting to embark.

We board and find ourselves in seats with considerable legroom and personal space.
Finally, we depart and travel smoothly to Zurich where we are greeted by ground crew. Since our flight has been delayed, Swiss is making every effort to ensure we make our 5:30 Boston flight. We are escorted down the stairs to left of the gate and descend to the tarmac and a waiting van. With two escorts, we travel underground to the passport office and, leaving our belongings in the van, get our visas stamped. We are then returned to the van for the zippy ride to our waiting airplane. We walk through the doors into the airport gate and take our roomy seats on the half-filled plane and wait to depart.

We take off late and are immediately served wine or beer. Later dinner, coffee, water refills are offered. We entertain ourselves reading, listen to music and sleeping. We arrive safely, and none the worse for wear, in Boston. We go through customs and to the baggage carousel to collect our belongings. A service representative comes to us when they do not appear (again) and tells us they did not make the trip. They are still in Zurich and will arrive on the next flight.

At the limousine stand, we meet our driver who is standing in the falling snow waiting to take us home. We relax in the back seat, chatting quietly trying to stay awake. We are delivered safely to our door and enter our familiar surroundings. It is bittersweet.

 (Our bags arrive at our place thirty-six hour late, on Friday afternoon.)