Traveling Abroad (Three) — May, 2013

When Saturday dawned, I was up before the wake-up call, eager to get back home.

Domer and I tightened our belts in lieu of breakfast and went to the hotel lobby to check out.

Now, we’d been told this taxi would charge a flat fee of 35 Euros, payable by swiping a credit card.

But the guy who showed up said he couldn’t do that. He wanted cash, so we had to stop at an ATM and withdraw enough for the trip.

Sorry, buddy, no tip for you!

When I fretted about how little time we had to get to the airport, he floored the accelerator, weaving in and out of traffic. On the left hand side of the road.

I held my breath the entire trip.

At last we reached Dublin Airport.

Mass confusion reigned. Queues were snaking everywhere.

Finally, we got “rid” of our heaviest suitcases — filled with clothes we hadn’t worn — only to find more lines.

For screening.

For customs.

For pre-boarding to the States.

That means taking off one’s shoes, unpacking the laptop, removing jackets and keys and coins.

Before this trip I hadn’t flown since Domer was in the womb (1990). So you can imagine how stunned I was to see a woman in front of me felt all over by a TSA screener.

I slipped through, then poor Domer got groped.

Despite having shaved off his scruffy beard. Despite looking like a clean-cut, decent young American.

And after he told me — on the plane, no less — I was ready to hop off like Mama Tigress and give that screener a piece of my mind for touching my kid!

We didn’t wait long to board, and more than once I looked at Domer and asked whether we were making the right decision.

“I’m going home,” Domer said. “I’ve had it with this place.”

The flight back was okay. We availed ourselves of everything that was offered — food, soda, tea, bathroom, free movies, you name it.

Other passengers were still irritating; we knew it was going to feel like midnight when we finally got home (because of the time change); and I couldn’t relax for the thoughts swirling in my brain, but Domer helped.

We’re going HOME, he kept reminding me. And it was sounding better and better.

Join me tomorrow as I complete our trip.