wherein I get to Frankfurt and wander around and reminisce...
Once, I used to love flying in and through the US. Security here was so simple compared to the big-brotherish "papers please" attitude in the rest of the world. My my, how things have changed.
I board the plane and after they close the door, the purser lets everyone know about the "industrial action" and tells us that yup - we don't get a choice in food.
After take off, they serve the meal: the only hot portion is the entree. Everything else is frozen solid - frozen shrimp on a bed of frozen cous-cous with a frozen green bean and frozen asparagus, some kind of tri-colored frozen pate on frozen tomato sauce, a frozen custard, the ubiquitous plastic coffee cup, and the hot pasta entree.
I tried eating the frozen stuff and gave up after eating one shrimp. The frozen pate would have been interesting - the little bits I broke off in my spork were tasty - if I'd managed to eat any more.
I ate the pasta and the custard and went to sleep. I woke up about an hour from landing with my stomach making funny noises. I thought I may have been hungry because I didn't eat much (about the only thing I'd eaten was the boxed snack for $5 on the SFO-ORD flight and the meal on the ORD-FRA flight 8 hours later). So the pasta "lunch" was only my third (partial) meal in nearly 24 hours.
We land at Bombay Mumbai, and after clearing immigration, customs and checking into my flight to Goa I visited the mens room and found out why my tummy was upset. Thanks industrial action workers and Lufthansa. I'm sitting here now on a dwindling battery within sight of the toilet. Hope this passes soon.