Yeah, its another one of these boring “written in-flight” blog entries.
YAWN!!!
I slept like crap last night, although I really cannot blame my hotel — the noise from the private party didn’t bother me at all, nor did the occasional car passing by with celebratory horns honking keep me awake. If I have to blame anything, I’ll blame the fact that I didn’t have an alarm clock, so I was nervous that the hotel would manage to fuck up my wake-up call.
My airport experience was nice—I got to the airport without any problems and sped straight through immigration and security and security. Checking in online for flights is awesome—even though they make us swap the paper boarding passes for card-stock boarding passes.
I was the second elite onboard, something I was worried about only to ensure that my suitcase and briefcase were somewhere in the vicinity of my exit row seat—a seat that lacks any under seat storage in front of it, and lacks a significant amount of overhead storage space. 10J is a prime window seat, although while we were on the ground the FA asked me to shut the shade to keep the cabin cool—and of course, the ground is when I want the window shade open the most—an opportunity to see other planes and everything else that is airside an airport.
Random stupid observation about Frankfurt: Northwest appears to have moved from gate E6 to gate E9, and I think that my last trip to Germany earlier this month was the first day of the gate change. More interesting is the fact that Continental’s flight was at the adjacent gate as we departed—Continental used to be off of concourse D. However, this is probably more esoteric observational crap than any of you really want to read.
The trip is a rather northerly route to Detroit, we passed over southern Greenland, and hit land somewhere in the extreme northern reaches of Labrador. The in-flight map projects a 1:15 arrival, but I’m thinking that 1:30 is more likely, which is a shame. Last time I flew this route, we had a 1:12 arrival that let me connect to a 1:30 flight bound for Indianapolis. Hopefully we’ll land at the gate that was projected when I looked yesterday, A40. Last time we arrived at A28, thus making my connection even more astounding considering the long walk that was involved.
Right now it’s 11:40, and the land below me is mostly unscarred by human activity, but I can make out a road and a swash of land that has been clear cut to accommodate power lines. The map suggests that we are over northern Quebec at 38,000 feet /11,500 meters.
Finally, I’ve never had so many babies onboard one flight—and I mean young ones, the kind that cry because their ears don’t equalize, and whose parents feel compelled to carry them around thus sharing the noise
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