I will not be home on Thanksgiving Day. I am still in Germany. Frankfurt to be precise.
Me and a few thousand other flyers. So much for getting home in one day.
Apparently the ground crews - baggage handlers - whoever gets the planes moving through the airports have gone on strike, or are about to go on strike and are on slow-down, throughout Germany.
Whatever. Standing in line with a few hundred other tired, frustrated travelers for two hours trying to get another flight home was not my idea of a good time. The Lufthansa ladies did their very best under extremely trying circumstances and I have an early flight out tomorrow morning.
It was kind of interesting being in the midst of Italians: one from Italy, one a landed American and the third from Brazil but raised in Switzerland and traveling to a new job in Mexico. Gotta love it.
The bus from the airport to the hotel we're staying at was full of Norwegians, Canadians and the crazy Italian lady who lives in San Francisco. There's a lady from Ottawa on the other computer here in the business room writing to her family explaining what's up, on her way home from a holiday in Milan, Venice, Florence, Rome and places in between.