Most epic journeys start out with a transatlantic flight into the great unknown. Mine started with a two-hour delayed flight to Chicago, an almost-meltdown in the airport and a night in the hotel Radisson. After running between terminals and back again and trying not to panic as every airline slowly shut down for the night, I found a friendly face at the American Airlines counter. It was clear to me that she could recognize that near-meltdown look in people's eyes. She had never heard of Tbilisi, but it didn't matter, she knew how to get me where I needed to be. Within minutes I had a new flight itinerary and a hotel voucher.
So here I am with 12 more hours to kill in Chicago and when I land in Munich I'll have another 9 there. I'm trying to look on the bright side: yes, I will show up to my training a whole day late, but hey, I've always wanted to see Munich.
That sucks. I always get frustrated when things don't go smoothly. But Munich is a bonus. Have some Bier and Schokolade while there. (But probably not together.)
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