Friday, July 3, 2009

Romania 2009: Day 10

The journey home. As always the travel day brings a mix of emotions; the sadness of leaving a country and friends that have been a part of your life for a short time; the excitement of returning home to see family; the anxiousness of having to spend several hours in airports trying to check in, get through immigration and customs; the rush of finishing the packing; the knowledge that you will be spending several hours on a plane in a space big enough for a four foot tall, 120 pound person; “where did I put the passports?”; “why did we have to get the earliest flight out meaning we have to get up at 4 a.m.?”
Before you know it you are in the midst of that whirlwind and when you have a group of 27 people travelling it is more like a tornado. I guess one of the advantages of wearing the bright orange Houston Dynamo shirts is that the glow keeps you awake as you fight off the lack of sleep. That is for everyone except Holly who “accidentally” misplaced her orange shirt.
Check in and security went without issue except for the Romanian who cut the line in front of me. I wasn’t go to question it but a few people in our group were willing to question him. In the end he was lucky it was a group of Christians travelling together as a group wearing football shirts and not a group of English football fans wearing Christian shirts. Everything in Romania has been very reasonably priced but suddenly in the airport the prices seem to quadruple but both Hunter and I were too thirsty to wait. We were bused over to the plane and I entered first with Hunter about 5 people behind me. We had to show the boarding pass as we entered the plane and I had both. Being the good father I am, I let the flight attendant know I was travelling with my son who was wearing a white hat, had curly hair and the same color shirt as me, and most importantly she could have as much fun with him as she wanted letting him know he could not board without his boarding pass. As I proceeded down the plane I heard the shout from Hunter, “Dad” which I, of course, ignored. When I looked back Hunter was looking at me with that “I know you stitched me up, Dad” look.
We arrived in England and pretty quickly got through immigration and had our bags waiting for us. My Dad picked us up and we had a short car ride back to Beaconsfield. The town continues to change little by little but it is still the same Beaconsfield I grew up in. As always the first port of call in England was the Fish & Chip shop and after 3 years away it was worth the wait. Both Hunter and I polished off a large portion of chips and fish. There really is nothing served anywhere else that rivals the English Fish & Chips.
In the afternoon we decided to relax and watch Wimbledon. I think I saw the start of both matches and the ends but not much in between. I think both Hunter and I were snoozing for a while. In the evening we surprised the rest of the family at dinner. My Dad had organized a meal but did not tell anyone we would be there. As they all sat down at the dinner table I don’t think anyone was surprised as Hunter and I walked in wearing chef’s outfits except for my Mum. The part that always amazes me is how fast we settle into a conversation together and it feels like we have never been away. It is good to see that we all still have the same sense of humour and the same practical joke nature. All in all we had a great time. The most humorous part of the meal was at the end when the bill came. My Dad was going to pick up the tab and Mark, Guy and I all grabbed for our wallets to help pay for the meal. My Mum grabbed for her pen so that my Dad could sign the receipt.
Again I am not sure how the day will be but my final blog might not make until Sunday.

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