Home from Munich

8 April, 2025

We were told to expect someone from passenger assistance to meet us at the front desk of the hotel at 7:00 for our 9:20 flight, so we were checked-out and waiting at 6:55, anticipating the usual German punctuality. By 7:10 no one had arrived, so we started towards the terminal and didn't pass anyone with a wheelchair headed towards our hotel at any point.

Check-in with American Airlines for our flight was seamless and we had no issues getting through security. However, it appeared that our gate was only slightly closer than Nuremberg. We stopped on the way to the gate to pick up a "backup croissant" because we had been up for two hours and food service on the flight was probably at least a couple of hours distant.

We trekked on.

Ready to hop the pond.

When we arrived at the gate we were informed that passenger assistance did go to the hotel to collect us, but based on our wait and the trek to the terminal from the hotel (only one route, as direct as they come) there's no way they arrived in a timely fashion. We were directed to a waiting area with no seats for those needing assistance – but when Group 1 was called I decided we would just do without and we boarded the bus that would take us to the gate.

Fortunately the gate had an escalator from ground level to a jetway, so the only real hassle from that point were the steps on and off the bus. By 8:35 we were on the plane and in our seats.

MUC departure

I think this was the fifth seat configuration we have experienced in as many business class flights on American, and only one of them has offered reasonable storage space and one offered fully functional electrical service. In the world of "do more with less and do it now" the small touches are falling by the wayside.

Cabin service was excellent, the temperature was comfortable, and the flight was mostly smooth. Lunch was "useful" but far from exciting or crave-worthy, which made the ice cream sundae dessert all the better.

We passed the time with a combination of reading, watching movies, listening to music, and napping. The most daunting problem was making sure our bluetooth headsets transferred from one device to another when we swapped around.

Upon arrival in Charlotte we were met on the jetway by a young man from passenger assistance and made our way to immigration. The area was more chaotic than it has been in past trips, I'm not sure if that's a reflection upon the current state of affairs concerning immigrants or if there are other factors at play. After a short wait we presented our passports, answered some perfunctory questions, and were on our way to baggage claim.

Where we waited.

And waited, and waited some more, until our 1.5 hour connection was whittled down to just over 30 minutes. Fortunately our next gate was moderately close, only halfway down the E concourse instead of at the distant reaches of the B concourse.

CLT arrival

As we passed through security the TSA agent pulled our carry-on (filled primarily with fragile/delicate items) and took exception to a jar of mustard, claiming it was a liquid. A jar of fine German Riesling mustard. Amazing mustard. Delicious mustard. Food to me, a liquid to them. (Technically a paste, somewhere in the nebulous range between liquid and solid, but I wasn't going to win that argument and, frankly, didn't even have time to make the argument.)

It wasn't a liquid when we cleared security in Amsterdam, nor was it a liquid when we cleared security in Munich.

But in Charlotte, the TSA declared it was a liquid. 

The TSA agent gruffly offered to let me return to the airline counter and check the bag (not a helpful suggestion under the circumstances based on timing as well as the contents of the bag.) I replied that checking the bag wasn't an option, and my other bags had already been re-checked in customs, at which point they unceremoniously tossed it in the garbage with a blank stare and a shrug. As if I should have known after two security screenings that the TSA couldn't differentiate between a paste and a liquid.

Next time I'll pack more carefully.

We scurried down the concourse and boarded our final flight of the expedition, only to discover that there was no more overhead bin space available, despite our First Class seats, so I had to gate check the mustard-less carryon bag. At this point we were at the "just get us home" stage of travel and surrendered to the chaos.

An hour later we touched down, home after three weeks and a day of some of the most amazing experiences we've ever had. An incredible vacation shared with dear friends who made everything better. If you have friends that you can enjoy quiet emptiness with – friends that you don't feel that you have to talk and entertain each other constantly – those are your travel companions. They're almost always the friends that know your inner thoughts and deepest struggles, the friends who have your back and look out for you even when you don't realize you need to be looked out for.

Our luggage did not make the connection with us, but thanks to the American Airlines phone app I knew they were on the next flight from Charlotte and would be delivered to our house.

We were picked up by our grandson and his chauffeur, which re-energized us. We got home, cleaned up, found something to eat, and it wasn't long before I was notified that our luggage was on the way. WOW!  It wasn't long before a delightful lady pulled up the driveway and handed off our bags.

Home at last, thinking about the next trip...