Three August
We left Chicago last evening on a United 777. The dinner was fine. The breakfast was wanting. The staff was patronizing or just plain tired. It was lovely to lie out in a wide seat and sleep for several hours. I woke to the sunrise flying over the Bay of Biscay. Everyone was still asleep and we had 4 hours to go. Arriving at Frankfurt was an affirmation of all the stories I’ve heard about it. Badly designed, difficult to navigate and unfriendly people put us off on trying to see anything else of this country. Ilsa of the SS guarded the gate of the lounge with an iron fist explaining what we could and could not do. Ilsa was a short dumpy German-speaking Philippina who obviously enjoyed her job. We will try to find a restaurant in the airport and have a decent meal before we set out for Zurich and then Rome tonight.
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