Getting there is half the fun?

I'm not sure who came up with that expression, but they may have been half right. Once I found my passport, I thought things would be fairly smooth, and so they were. I tried to remember if I had ever been to JFK, and I decided that if I had, it was characteristically forgetable. The flight to New York was uneventful. The gate at which I arrived was on one end, and the departure gate was at the other. For those of you in Chicago, imagine going from the United terminal (1) to the International Terminal (5) on foot. I did not feel any rush, as I had 90 minutes between flights.

The gate for the flight to Accra is beyond the glitz of the duty-free shopping. I went all the way to the end -- the very end. I turned left down a narrow hallway so tight that two people carrying bags could not pass at the same time. There, at the end, was the gate. I was embarassed. It was definitely the least updated gate in the airport. Were they deliberately trying to make this gate look like the gate at the other end of the trip? If so, they succeeded.

My attempt to get an exit row failed. My hopes the flight would be lightly filled evaporated about 30 minutes before flight time (scheduled flight time). I could not find room for my overhead bag until I shouted out to the other passengers deep in the economy section of this 767: "who want's to watch my cookies for me?". That immediately resulted in space becoming available for my bags.

Amazingly, the gentleman I was sitting next to (I had the window seat, he was on the aisle) is a life-long friend of my host family here in Sunyani, Ghana (though he had not seen them in years)! I had some pictures of them from my visit last year, and he transferred family pics from his camera to my laptop to share.

I tried to sleep during the 10.5 hour flight, and managed about 5 hours (thanks to Lady Antebellum, Keith Urban, and friends!)