The big day is here: Sophie and I "hopped" on an ICE train to Frankfurt Airport in the afternoon and checked into a hotel to split up the journey. Sophie was so excited to be doing exactly what Daddy does at work. In fact, he had previously overnighted in the same hotel.
We hiked over to a nearby Italian restaurant on a campground. Sophie confessed that she would not enjoy camping, because she was afraid of the animals, and would prefer to stay in a hotel instead. Daddy's girl, what can I say.
Enjoying her pizza.
...and where exactly am I going to sleep?
Luckily, the air traffic controller strike that had been planned for this morning, was averted at the last minute, and our flight took off only about an hour late. On good old United. Hey, it was on Daddy's airplane, that's all that counts.
While waiting by the gate, I was becoming quite a geek, spotting my first 787.
And the taxiways were teeming with A380s.
A new way of stretching out.
This is not Sophie sleeping, but Sophie throwing a fit when she found out bad Mummy had traded our two seats by the window for FOUR seats in the middle. She kept complaining about not having a window seat throughout the flight, did not sleep for one minute either. At least she was past the age of wanting to cruise down the aisles and was happy to watch videos instead. We make an exception on flights for everyone's sanity.
Pops picked us up and after Sophie had devoured her obligatory cookie, she passed out before we even got on 280.
It's good to be back.