And now I’m lying in my downtown LA loft. I just woke up from watching TV and am about to put myself and this online journal to bed.

The morning started with a cold walk to the nearest metro station, I mean subway station, and a brief wait for the A train. I didn’t realize how smelly and unattractive most NYC subway stations are. I did know it, but I didn’t really KNOW it. Got on the A train and realized it was the wrong A train. It was warm in the car and opted to stay on and transfer to the proper A train later.

Waiting for the right A train on the cold and windblown platform at Rockaway Blvd, made me miss the little “next train will arrive in” counters that I saw in every european metro station. It’s nice to know how long you will be waiting, especially when all you are wearing is a tee shirt and a sweater. Time was running short and the NYC subway was running slow and infrequently. I was beginning to consider a few different fall back plans when proper A train came in. Two stops and I was getting onto the “AirTrain” that shuttles travelers around the airport and back and forth to the Subway. It so clean and nice and had all the amenities that european straphangers are used to.

Checked in 50 mins ahead of my flight and here is where some pre-planning helped. I got my boarding pass and when I went to security expecting chaos, I was instead waved through to a special checkpoint where there was no line and I did not have to take off my shoes. Got to my gate and looked at my boarding pass. It was for a First Class seat. Jackpot!! Got on the plane early. Had a mimosa as I leaned back in my amazing seat that reclines all the way back to become a bed and just accepted my good fortune.

5 hours of luxury flying is a totally wonderful thing. I really enjoyed the ride, the food, the comfort, the wine. It was perfect. The fact that I was hearing so much American English spoken was just a little disconcerting. My ear had grown accustomed to the rhythm and syntax of English spoken by non-english speakers.

About halfway through the trip I was going over some old emails and realized that I had booked this flight AS a first class flight using my frequent flyer miles. It all came back to me. I remembered my prior self thinking that my future self might be exhausted and in need of a little TLC during this last leg of the trip. I toasted prior self with several glasses of Cabernet provided by American Airlines.

Touchdown. First off the plane, down the ramp, through baggage claim past the chauffeurs holding up signs with names of their clients, many holding up  iPads. Out the door and into sunshine and 67 degrees. Hello LA.

After a bit my son Alex rolled up in his scratched up Toyota and I hopped in. We talked and talked and talked. I had really missed that guy. He brought me to my apartment building. I stood before the entrance and my mind raced through memories that will stay with me for a long, long time. The exquisite chaos of the Uffizi, the constant warnings about pickpockets, the gypsy families sleeping together in Parisian doorways, the little Venetian streets and alleyways, the prostitutes in Amsterdam, the musicians in Vienna, the pretty girls in Prague, the Vin Santo in Firenze, Barcelona, Barcelona, Barcelona. It was a hell of a trip, or to paraphrase Jerry Garcia, “it has been a long strange trip”. And now I know that even though I am in a familiar place and returning to a familiar routine, the “trip” continues.