Getting to where you're going.

In short, it was a cinch really. This, sadly, will be a little bit detailed, but I'll slip some funny stuff in as I go through because even though it was easy, there were a few moments when you just go "huh."

JFK is, well, JFK and after saying goodbye to the girlfriend (that sucked, it really did) I made my way through the baggage drop off and off to good ole security where I saw a Canadian almost go all "Mountie" on a family who cut the line. The TSA guy was helpful in defusing the situation and upholding the security of the checkpoint: "Nah, nah, nah. Do that over there. [Motioning to the metal detectors] Not here. Not here." Then off to the gate and to board....(I wonder if this was also the SOP at Checkpoint Charlie in Berlin...?)

British Airways is, as I'd think the British would say, nice. One of the flight attendants looked exactly like Hank Azaria. Now, I've already seen a Wyatt Cenac (from the Daily Show) look-alike (in NY at a Mac store). Now a Hank Azaria. Who's next?!

We got in an hour early which meant we sat on the floor for an hour until the airport opened at 6am. In Britain instead of being grunted at to take off your shoes, belt, and the like, you're called mate. (Well, at least I was.)

I flew through Gatewick Airport which, it seems, is just one big mall that happens to have an airport attached to it. The gate for my Brussels Airways flight was a 15 minute walk from the center of consumer heaven. They were having a raffle for a car! Right in the middle of everything.

While Belgian customs would be a cinch -- a quick stamp on page 8 of my passport, nary a glace at the fancy visa on page 11 -- getting out of the UK was a bit more intense (to jump back in time for a second). You think you're safe as you go through the security with all the "hey mates" dolled out. Then through the boarding gate only to run into a half dozen or so UK Customs Officials. They pull you aside and ask you to explain yourself: "Where do you normally reside?" "Where are you going?" "Why?" "How will your support yourself there?" I answered and was on my way, but others were getting more close attention.

On the plane to Brussels I had my first taste of how the linguistic divide. The announcements were made in French, Dutch/Flemish, English and at least once in German. (Either that or the Dutch segment went on twice as long as the French and English versions.)

....More soon....time for a nap.