We were to leave Berlin on the morning of 28 June. It was to be the reverse of our itinerary 16 days earlier — Berlin to Dublin, Dublin to Boston on Aer Lingus.
We took a cab to Tegel Airport and quickly checked in at Aer Lingus. Piece of cake. We got into the security line at about 8:15. Plenty of time for our 10:45 departure.
More than 90 minutes later, as we started finally to approach the security area, I noticed people coming up to those ahead of us, chatting, and then joining the line. I also noticed a group of about a dozen guys who looked like they were part of an athletic team just cutting in. By the time we reached the area that had barriers, I counted about 50 people who had somehow gotten into line ahead of us. We boarded our flight soon after getting to the gate. Glad we left early for the airport!
We had a somewhat long layover — 4 hours, 10 minutes — scheduled for Dublin. I had noticed Aer Lingus did not use the international terminal at Logan Airport in Boston, so I figured we would go through U.S. customs in some fashion in Dublin. We did. I had prepared all sorts of information about what we had bought, its value, etc., figuring we would have to fill out a form. Nope. Julia and I went through customs in adjacent lines.
When I approached the customs officer, and after she looked at my passport, she asked, “Where do you live?” Uhhhhhhh. I just did not expect that question. Somewhat stammering, I said, “Fall . . . brook . . . California.” She asked if I was traveling with anyone. I said, “My daughter” and started to point her out in the adjacent line, but Julia had already gone through the line. I looked around for her, puzzled. I’m sure the customs officer was beginning to wonder about this old guy in front of her.
She showed me a somewhat fuzzy picture on her computer screen of what looked like my luggage. She asked if this appeared to be luggage with which I was connected. I hesitantly said, “I believe so.” “Where did you visit in Europe?” “Berlin and Lithuania.” “What did you buy?” “Uh, amber . . . teeshirts . . . souvenirs.” “Thank you, Mr. McDonald.” “What?” “You can go now.”
Julia had been asked only where she lived.
Lunchtime. I was finally able to sit and enjoy some Guinnesses, along with enjoying overheard chatting between two Irish biddies, talking rather sharply about various members of their families.
Below is brief video (0:26) of our departure from Dublin, with a view of the east coast of Ireland.
The Atlantic crossing, heading west, took a little longer than the opposite route. We were back on an Airbus 330 and again enjoyed a meal — pasta.
Flying over Newfoundland, Canada, we saw it still had some snow in late June.
We landed in Boston about 6:30 pm. Took Lyft to the home of friend Margaret Evans in Brookline. It had been a long day. With the six-hour time difference between Berlin and Boston, our body clocks were at something like 1:30 am while we chatted with Margaret. Sleep that night was easy and deep. Nice to be back. It was already less stressful, able to read signage and be familiar with surroundings.