On the train from Gent to Brussels, cranes like these flashed by.  I’m sure they were talking to each other.  And I wonder what they were saying.

Human beings are so short … and not very smart

Or perhaps they were complimentary.

***

Not Knowing kicks in so easily for me in airports.  Upon leaving the train, a machine wanted me to scan my ticket.  So there I stood … and stood, adjusting my British Airways ticket every which way so the little doors would fly open.  No luck.

Eventually a smiling uniformed woman came my way and said that it was the train ticket that needed to be scanned.  Sad but true is the fact that I’ve been on this “train – Brussels Airport” journey many times and today I forgot what to do at the gate.  Makes me smile, actually.

***

One thing I’m good at is lining up behaviour.  An hour to get my luggage stowed.  (Boo)  Twenty minutes for security. (Yay)  Twenty more for Customs.  (Yay).  Two out of three ain’t bad.

I watched a Customs Officer having a conversation with a little girl about her stuffed doggie.  She loved it and so did I.  I hoped I would get him when it was my passport time.  I did.

***

During one of my lineups I saw my name flash on an info screen:

BRU is the call sign for Brussels Airport.  I’m glad they decided to acknowledge me.

***

Now at London Heathrow.  Pick up my luggage and then take the Heathrow Express train to central London.  Easy.

The sign at luggage pickup says Carousel Five for flight BA 393 from Brussels.  It’s the only Brussels flight mentioned.  My number is BA 397.

Close enough!

Another sign says “Bags delivered”.  Half an hour later, I’m searching for a lost luggage office.  I’m worried about my meds being gone.

My searching for help takes me past another sign: “Brussels Flight BA 397 – Carousel Seven”.

Oi!  Close enough doesn’t count.  And there sits my suitcase.  Oh well.  Perhaps I have an older brain.

***

I was on The Tube (subway) a couple of hours ago.  I had a seat, hugging my suitcase and backpack, while the aisle was crammed with pressed-up-against human beings.  My question?  How am I going to get out of here?  I asked the woman sitting next to me for advice.  Do I have to start moving to the door before we reach the station before my destination?  She laughed.  No, people will make way for you!    And they did.

***

I’m just about out of writing oomph.  Here I am in The Spread Eagle, a vegan British pub:

I asked the sister and brother on the right if it was okay to have them in the photo.  They smiled yes.

I ate pie and mash.  Who cares if there wasn’t any meat?  It was delicious.  I forgot to take a picture at the beginning.  Here’s halfway through:

Okay … that’s it for today.  More human lives tomorrow