Up and at ’em. Breakfast. One last pack, as we depart the business class airport where the airline stashed us after putting more important people on the previous day’s flight. We get out to the lobby to the shuttle to find … the shuttle is full.
So the hotel calls us a cab, which shows up right away. He takes us directly to the door we needed to enter, which was significantly closer than the shuttle drop off, so that worked out well.
Go through the ticket process, sadly find out they won’t be delaying us again for another handful of Delta dollars, discover every broken e-ticket kiosk for your convenience in Dublin. Deal with humans. Fine. Off and on we go. Airport security. American pre-clearance, whatever that means these days:
More security. It feels like we’re already back in the land of the free and we haven’t even left Ireland.
Down to the plane and on with a few minutes to spare, but not many. We’re on our way to JFK.
Update: A few hours later we landed uneventfully. It was a far better flight home than a flight out. Catch up on the latest news while waiting for forever to pick up our bags. Stand outside on the curb and watch the height of free civilization in the self-proclaimed greatest city in the world behaving stupidly toward one another.
We’d been back 20 minutes and already longed for the quiet of the Irish countryside.
Now we’re resting up at the in-laws, telling tales of our travels, slightly amazed at all we’ve done and seen these last few days. What an adventure.
