Going home. Do pat downs count as a date?
We get up, pack, hit the gym, eat breakfast and then head to the airport. We take our leave of Tsering, and give him the book with his story in it and one of my whiskey flasks as well as a tip. He was a big fan of the whiskey. And then we’re off.
We go through security at the Kathmandu airport. This includes 2 bag searches and 2 pat downs, plus x-rays. Then they take us out to the tarmac, in the heat and make us wait in line while they do yet another pat down and bag search. Really. Another one. On the tarmac. Safety first is serious here. After an hour to board at that rate, we’re off to India.
In India, they put us back in the holding area for hours, where we end up entertaining the security guards with our headlamps and fuzzy socks.
Then finally into security, another pat down (if you’re counting, and I am, we’re at 4 now), and then into the airport and eventually off to Paris.
In Paris we get off the plane and then have to catch a shuttle bus. But there aren’t any busses coming so we get stuck in an angry mob of a couple hundred people about to miss their flights. Verbal fights break out. It’s not pretty.
Another hour before we’re to our next security line, another pat down (hello—5 now. Count ‘em, 5. Good times. But they never call). They then confiscate a beautiful bottle of vodka that Ni bought in India for RJ. They tell us it can’t go through security, despite the fact it was purchased in the airport and they had assured us in India it was fine. Blurgh.
Then back on a plane to JFK. And 30 plus hours later I’m home in New York. Lisa and Ni have a 6 hour lay over and another 6 hour flight home. Poor things.
Trip over. Trek good. Sleep now.
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