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What difference two trips make!

When I landed in Madrid this morning at 6:40, 6 1/2 hours after the

two-story Jumbo Jet of Iberia Airlines took off from JFK, I still

felt fresh. I could not help reflecting on the fact there was no

common measure with the twenty (20) hours I suffered through, last

November, between water and sky before I reached Melbourne from Los Angeles.(Total travel time then: 31 hours!)

Yes, in the current climate of international travel, I was bracing

for the worst. I made sure to be early, so I beat rush hour traffic

by leaving New Jersey at 2:00 p.m. I wound up waiting 3 1/2 hours at

the airport before takeoff.

Airports are fun places anyway. I would not mind moving into one that would have vacant apartments for rent. At the gate, I ask Maite, a Spanish girl, studying English in New York, who was flying home on her winter break, to wake me up upon boarding, in case I were to fall asleep before boarding time. I had not slept in two nights, which is always the case when I leave for carnaval.

I went through the usual security checks. I also went to some

unusual ones, where I was asked to remove my coat and my shoes to

make sure there was no TNT (not the TV network) in them. I was

annoyed by the search, but satisfied that my safety was on someone?s checklist.

I spent my flight time, befriending Lisa, an Italian woman who was also flying to Tenerife to join a European group for carnaval. We had a few laughs. We talked about and compared the different carnavals in the world. We discussed international politics, and how America is perceived by nations around the globe.

At the international airport in Madrid, we waited at the same

terminal until it was time for her to fly to the islands, and for me,

to head toward the other side of the Iberian peninsula. We will catch

up later, in Tenerife.

I have no idea how long my flight to Lisbon lasted. I felt asleep

once I boarded the plane. Remember, though it was 9:00 a.m. in

Spain, it was still 3:00 a.m. in NYC. Time for my beauty sleep.

In Lisbon, it was a pleasure to my ears to hear Portuguese again.

But this time, it was not spoken by Brazilians. My Carioca friends

swear there is a big difference between the two accents. My ears are

not however exerted enough to catch the difference.

Inside the European Union, security measures are minimal. I left the

airport immediately, in contrast to the 40 minutes I spent in

line to be checked in Madrid. Much different from last time I was

there.

Lisbon looks good...

(The Traveller, Saturday, February 9, 2002)