Ch 2 We Take Flight pg 4

years later. Is that how things really were? If you read this in a book of fiction you’d say it is so unrealistic or a poor imitation of George Orwell.
In spite of a dismal experience at Metro, I am actually excited and have a real sense of adventure about this trip. The air of anticipation reminds me of the trips I took in my younger days. There is a promise of adventure and new sights, sounds and aromas, the thrill of discovery and new experiences. And not being certain what awaits us.
First stop – Schiphol Airport in Amsterdam. What a big, cosmopolitan airport. People are ever so stylish walking briskly through brightly lit corridors. I feel schlumpy. Even the airport staff looks very efficient and is neatly dressed. This contrast is especially stark after our experience of only 6 hours ago! We still have to deal with the unwritten law of Airport Travel – your next flight will always be furthest away from where you land. I guide my mother through the maze of corridors and gates peering above heads for clues on getting to our gate. Mom is very able-bodied but I take her elbow and steer.
We walk down several corridors, get on a shuttle bus, go to another corridor, and then arrive at the gate to wait. I make all the decisions, checking signs, asking directions, carrying the hand luggage and directing Mom. She is a bit like a piece of extra baggage. I will say that she’s very agreeable, doesn’t argue or contradict, but leaves it all in my hands which suits me fine. Not all previous trips have been like this. I don’t have to explain or clarify or argue. Fortunately I make the right choices and we don’t have to backtrack or lose time.
Even though this is our first stop in European territory, a quick passport check suffices. There is absolutely no customs, no baggage examination for undeclared cash or smuggled drugs. Is this not a problem here or not as big an issue? Us Americans are, however,