Interlude at Detroit

After getting off flight one, Tina, Tiffany, and I desperately needed some nourishment.  We were famished. We go to one of those "you are here" boards to see what is available. After a few moments of glaring at the screen, my eyes land on "Fuggruckers Burgers". We decide the comical name justifies the decision to make that our luncheon stop.  We head in the direction of what we think is Fuggruckers. After walking probably half a mile we stop to look at another "you are here" board to check our progress to Fuggruckers. After realizing that we went the complete opposite direction of our desired destination, we decide we're too tired and hungry to go another foot so we go to "Mediterranean Grill" right in front of us. I ordered a fish sandwich and I don't know if it was a particularly good restaurant or if I was just so incredibly exhausted and starved but it was a mighty fine sandwich. 

After our relaxing lunch, we began to meander around the airport. It was nicely laid out and clean, but seriously lacking in the shopping department. The few blocks we surveyed honestly didn't have anything other than Hello Kitty apparel and magazines. Clearly Detroit is not cut out to be a fashion capitol. 

Tiffany and I waited with Tine until her flight took off, and then went to wait at our gate. Within minutes of sitting down I'm approached by some airport person who asks if I'm flying to Frankfurt if I would mind filling out a survey about my airport satisfaction.  I agree since she says it wouldn't take any more than two minutes and I had over an hour to kill before boarding. I think that lady didn't know what she was getting into when she asked me to take a "quick survey". Nothing with me is quick (except my ability to cry at practically anything) and her "2 minute survey" took me more like 20. Whatever. My slow approach to life is part of my charm. Or so I'd like to think.

The gate then began to fill with Germans. It was beautiful. All around me people were speaking German - complaining about how annoying traveling is, searching for an outlet to charge a dying laptop, or gawking at the ridiculously fast tram. I was so excited to hear German being spoken because it made this trip seem more real.  All semester I've been preparing for Vienna: writing essays, signing forms, attending meetings. But hearing people speaking German started to turn Vienna into a more graspable object. I really am going and I'm so excited. What was once fear and nerves has turned into extreme anticipation.