Typical Trip

These trips are starting to get to be a bit routine. I have a bit of a pattern that I go through -- I don't know if it is all the OCD working itself out or simply the comfort of going with what works.

Packing
I really do hate to pack, which is odd, since Nicole does all of the laundry which means I have the monumental task of putting things in a traveling box instead of a stationary closet. It really shouldn't be that hard. It is all really based on a combination of proscratination and a fear that I won't have something that I "need".

• Fear 1: I will forget something. This is completely unfounded since as long as I have the three essentials, there really is no problem (passport, credit card, unbacked up laptop with all of my work).
• Fear 2: That there will be some activity for which I will not have some essential item. Every trip so far to Geneva (except my summer trips), I have brought clothes to ski. This trip I did not and we are supposed to go ski tomorrow. I have suits and work clothes. I have the clothes to go out nights/weekends. I have exercise clothes -- which I have determined just take up space and I no longer bring, I have given up the dream of rock-hard-travel-abs. Sigh.
• Fear 3: I will be made fun of... for my BFS. My primary travel suitcase is a pretty good size. Unfortunately, it is dwarfed by the even bigger suitcase I bring along with it. Luckily, I always reserve an automatic car which doesn't come in "Mini Cooper."

The packing starts about two weeks in advance where I start compiling a list of the things I need to bring with me for others -- and the books/DVDs I want to bring. This time I went with the nice calm wholesome All-American Dexter, season 1. In Europe, if you prefer to understand what you are watching you have the choice of CNN, BBC World or Sky News.

I first start emptying my work backpack of all the random things that seem to hide in there. I realized I was carrying about 4 pounds of change in various currencies, apparently for exercise. In the front pocket I put a pen (for visa entry/exit), my travel toothbrush and a travel container of Advil -- organized left to right. In the zipper pocket above goes my laptop headphones. In the pouch on my left go my mobile phones and security badge -- the pocket on the right holds mints and watch until I get through security. In the second compartment I put cough drops (airplane dryness) and granola bars. In the third compartment goes (in order) noise cancellation headphones (left), power convertor & cord on the right -- then book for plane on side with pages facing down on the left and the DVDs on the right and I top it with a travel pillow. This leaves room in this pocket for the two bottles of Diet Coke I will grab for the plane once I pass through security. The last pocket gets my laptop and two magazines with the laptop nearest my back. On top of the laptop is a ziplock bag with toothpaste and mouthwash for the plane.

My other carry-on gets a change of clothes for the way over -- chocolate on the way back. (They have only misplaced my luggage twice and both times it was when I didn't pack the carry-on bag.)The other bags get packed normally at the last minute. The only additional thing that I do is try to pack the batteries next to the liquids (Pepto and Nyquil) with cables running near them. Oddly, this bag ends up getting opened every single time.

Actual Travel
I try to get to the airport two hours early even though I only need about 10 minutes to get to the plane. Frequent travels scoff at this concept -- but they just cannot comprehend the inner peace that I get when I am where I am supposed to be without stress. The guy with whom I do most of the travel seems to start every story with "So we were an hour from the airport..." and ends with "...but we just made the plane."

In Lexington, the security takes no time at all as everything is pretty well organized to get out and through the x-ray machine. This time I was frisked my a nice old guy who was very polite. I had switched flights to later in the day, so I was flagged. I sit in the Bourbon Bar, put my watch back on, and start my book while I savor one of the last Diet Cokes that I will drink that has enough ice in it to actually make a difference.

On the first flight to Cincinnati, I get in my seat with one of the diet Coke bottles in the seat pocket. I start to read, but as I am usually in the exit row, I always interrupted by the flight attendant looking at my huge muscles and then looking concerned and trying to confirm that I would be okay getting the door open in the event of an emergency. Since I have learned that flipping her the bird does not get you the extra bag of peanuts, I smile and nod enthusiastically.

I read until the plane starts to take off and I then watch Lexington fade away beneath the plane. After a deep sleep of 35 minutes, we arrive in Cincinnati for me to switch terminals by bus and get over to Max & Ermas or Wolfgang Pucks (Terminal B) for what really will be my last Diet Coke with ice.

Before we board, I try to scout out the biggest human being in the terminal and place odds on them sitting next to me. They seem to be very good.

We get on the plane. I place the two bottles of soda, my book and headphones in the seat pocket. The backpack under the seat in front and the carry on above. Travel pillow is set. I reset my watch to Geneva time and move it from my left arm to my right -- as I sleep with my arms crossed and my left arm is always under.

Nine long hours later we arrive in Paris and I usually have only slept for a couple of hours. I switch terminals -- which requires leaving and coming back through customs, security, etc... I buy a new (warm dang it) Diet Coke a ridiculous sum and fall asleep at the gate. I board the last crowded flight to Geneva, get through border control, baggage claim and security -- rent the car and head to the hotel.