Welcome home!
Good flight, early arrival, short line at passport control, bags are out, we are doing great!
We walk out of the terminal and I see tons of people walking INTO the terminal with their luggage carts. Huh, I think. That's a little strange.
Then....
...The Police tell us and everyone else pouring OUT of the terminal to GO BACK IN. And wait. And wait.
Now tons and tons of people are waiting inside the terminal with their luggage and guess what they are all going to want to do when they leave? That's right, get a cab. So I inch up to the front so that I can whoosh out when we get the all clear.
What was the problem in the first place? Everyone's best guess is a piece of luggage left by itself that might have had a bomb in it, but who knows.
About 15 minutes later, we get the all clear and rush out to the taxi stand.
Now, there are little size taxis, medium sized taxis, and van size taxis. I was hoping that, with our 5 ginormous pieces of luggage, the dispatcher would call over a van.
SILLY ME! No, a small car pulls up and I say to the driver (in Hebrew, thank you), "We have 5 suitcases, can your car handle that?"
He answers, "If it works it works, if it doesn't it doesn't." Welcome home!
So he hoists three of our heavy bags onto the top of the car and puts the other two in the trunk. I expect him to then pull out bungee cords.
He pulls out a big piece of rope. And proceeds to wrangle the suitcases like a rodeo rider. This puts me in mind of our trip to Israel back in 1997 to visit Gila when she was in Michlala Our driver put the suitcases on the top of the car and had to stop in the middle of Route 1 because the suitcases were falling off the roof.
OK, we get home, have a great reunion with the kids, and then decide to head out to the supermarket to start re-stocking. By the time we get to the supermarket and back, we've been honked at 3 times.
So, all in all a wonderful return home - and all kidding aside, when we landed, we couldn't stop smiling. Still can't.
Good flight, early arrival, short line at passport control, bags are out, we are doing great!
We walk out of the terminal and I see tons of people walking INTO the terminal with their luggage carts. Huh, I think. That's a little strange.
Then....
...The Police tell us and everyone else pouring OUT of the terminal to GO BACK IN. And wait. And wait.
Now tons and tons of people are waiting inside the terminal with their luggage and guess what they are all going to want to do when they leave? That's right, get a cab. So I inch up to the front so that I can whoosh out when we get the all clear.
What was the problem in the first place? Everyone's best guess is a piece of luggage left by itself that might have had a bomb in it, but who knows.
About 15 minutes later, we get the all clear and rush out to the taxi stand.
Now, there are little size taxis, medium sized taxis, and van size taxis. I was hoping that, with our 5 ginormous pieces of luggage, the dispatcher would call over a van.
SILLY ME! No, a small car pulls up and I say to the driver (in Hebrew, thank you), "We have 5 suitcases, can your car handle that?"
He answers, "If it works it works, if it doesn't it doesn't." Welcome home!
So he hoists three of our heavy bags onto the top of the car and puts the other two in the trunk. I expect him to then pull out bungee cords.
He pulls out a big piece of rope. And proceeds to wrangle the suitcases like a rodeo rider. This puts me in mind of our trip to Israel back in 1997 to visit Gila when she was in Michlala Our driver put the suitcases on the top of the car and had to stop in the middle of Route 1 because the suitcases were falling off the roof.
OK, we get home, have a great reunion with the kids, and then decide to head out to the supermarket to start re-stocking. By the time we get to the supermarket and back, we've been honked at 3 times.
So, all in all a wonderful return home - and all kidding aside, when we landed, we couldn't stop smiling. Still can't.
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