Europhile: C'est ma vie!

38,000 Feet and Counting

Na letadlo. That's Czech for "on the airplane". The one to Prague. I wouldn't normally have my computer with me in my seat. I hate those businesspeople that have to be on their laptop computers 24-7-52. They make me think of mushrooms. Not necessarily because they smell (though they often do), but because of a line in Le Petit Prince where the little prince looks at such a businessman and suddenly realizes that il n'était pas un homme, mais un champignon! That's why it reminds me of mushrooms. But no, I sit here with my laptop perched happily in my lap because of a long series of events, which in reality started 4 weeks ago as I made my packing list, but in practicality started when I realized my checked baggage was too heavy for me to lift. This occurred yesterday, or whatever day was the one before I left Seattle. I'd been wondering if I had purchased luggage big enough for my trip and my grandiose aspirations. After all, I was to be gone for (possibly) two (don't tell Mom) years. I wanted to fit everything in, including, but not limited to my espresso maker and yoga mat. When I'd packed to my heart's content I had a sinking feeling. I had the feeling because there was extra room in my suitcase. While this might normally be considered cause for joy, I had the suspicion (later to be confirmed) that it was not a question of volume, but of mass. Sort of like ... (fill in brilliant analogy later). So I compromised, and had to give up some of the items that just weren't important enough - I left out several tee shirts and my green khaki pants. So finally I could lift my bags, even though I far preferred not to.

But I digress. The real reason I sit here with a laptop on my lap top is that I had entirely too much carry-on baggage.

One camera in camera bag.
Extra lens for camera, in separate camera bag.
Filters, extra camera, in camera bag.
Tripod, in tripod case, which also houses two Guinness posters.
Hiking backpack, housing smaller backpack, housing computer case, housing laptop.
Books for the flights: “How to Teach English”, by Jeremy Harmer. “Colloquial Czech”, by James Naughton. “The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night Time”, by Mark Hadden. “The Financial Times”, by … I guess the editors of the Financial Times.

Needless to say, when I arrived in Amsterdam after a 9 ½ hour flight from Seattle with 45 minutes to race from E17 to D55 in an airport where everything was written in English (wait… hm), I was NOT expecting to go through security again before boarding the airplane. And I knew I was in for it, too, as I looked around and saw all those nice, tidy little European carry-ons. And there I was with a hiking backpack, a canvas bag, and a tripod case with a winter jacket looped through it.

And they let me through. But of course, not until I had voluntarily repacked my backpack with my jacket and tripod, decided to carry my laptop, and camera bags, which are now sitting under the seat back in front of me, where, in a perfect world, my legs would be outstretched. Tant pis.
Na schled for now. That’s Czech for … later. My next post will be from a lower altitude.

posted by europhile @ 09:30