I took a half day from work and headed to PHL. As usual, my attempts at explaining to my coworkers exactly where I was going failed miserably. "You know Russia? Almost that far east."
I splurged on terminal parking which, at $20 (or 170,000 rubles), isn't exactly a steal for the long walk you still have to make to the international terminal, A-West.
Full disclosure: I pack like a woman. I am not a woman. I've got my backpack, which goes everywhere, a garment bag and a roll-a-board. Folding garment bag isn't huge, but it's holding the heavier clothing that, after last year, I'm fairly certain I'll need. The puffy jacket is included.
This is what I look like in the puffy jacket. We can all agree I look like a bada** who is not to be trifled with. If we cannot agree to this, then we cannot comment on this picture with future posts.
I've got these three bags, with the plan to check the garment bag and carry the other two onboard. Lufthansa, in their infinite wisdom, believed otherwise. Despite being in business class, there's an 8 kg limit to carry on bags. I'm not sure what fully loaded roll-a-board weighs less than that, but be advised the check in staff at PHL will rigorously enforce this. And you will now be checking two bags.
This of course means a reshuffling of my change of clothes (for post-shower Senator Lounge at FRA) into my backback. And that I'm in a foul mood.
Security at A-West is usually pretty quick and painless, so I'm through in a few minutes and up to the old Envoy lounge. I kill about 45 minutes drinking water, snack on an apple, etc.
I've passed the phase where I drink an exhorbitant amount of alcohol on the flight, at least an overnight outbound. I get too dehydrated, start sweating, and have difficulties getting any real sleep when I cross the 3-4 drink threshold. Daytime flights are a different story, but overnights I try and play it healthy and pass out. Sober.
Unlike my first international F experience on AA from DFW-FRA where I had probably 12 glasses (but who's counting) of wine/champagne/scotch, vomited in the toilet, and passed out. Not sober, with the spins. If ever you're going to hit an alcohol induced rock bottom, I recommend doing so on an airline whose callsign is AA. For the additional irony.
But back to PHL-FRA. Standard old C seats on an LH A340-300. Nothing to write home about, and the seats have been complained about ad nauseum. It was comfortable enough for me, I watched a few movies, got a few hours of sleep, and landed into the transfer nightmare that is FRA.
For those faced with this daunting and confusing task, please consult
this thread. NewbieRunner and the other fine folks in the Miles&More forum are saviors of many a tragically lost soul.
I disembarked and walked at a brisk pace for three miles from one of the Z gates to the Senator Lounge. I slowly understand LH's "No more than 8 kg in carry on luggage" policy. Any more weight and a transfer would become a death march for the infirm, obese, and DYKWIAs.
The new Senator lounge in...wherever the hell I was in FRA was actually nice. Crowded, but large and with a good amount of food options. No wait for the shower, and, with a 2:30 transfer I have some time to sit back, read the paper, and drink 7 espressos to wake up.
I also get stamped into the Schengen area on the US passport. Once again, Uncle Sam doesn't need to know I went to Belarus. I'll stamp out of it again on my way back from WAW.
Then it's down to the bus gates and to an uneventful E190 flight to MSQ.
NEXT: ARRIVAL