Newark. Sort of like New York but not at all.

I fought through the disaster that was my room last night. Everything fit (very snugly) in my bags. I made it out the door and to the GR airport with the faithful support and ginormous strength from Brittany. I should have taken a picture but I too was loaded with bags. I did get a picture, however, of my team. Yes. These are the men who are going to protect me with their lives while I am in Africa:


Yeah. Look out Rwanda. Here we come.

I spent my time on the plane breaking into Stephenie Meyer's non-Twilight book, "The Host". Very intriguing. But I can't hide from the fact that she could use a better editor. Some of the lines are just really bad. I'll have to find a good example for you tonight.

Here's my first peak of Newark:


Exciting. Isn't it? At least it means we arrived safely. Actually, it doesn't but we did arrive safely.

And here is why we took Michael along:


Yes. Flying 100,000 miles a year has it's advantages. Like the President's Club. This includes nice chairs, a bartender, large windows, and no creepy people you feel like you need to protect your bags from. Heaven in an airport.

The time is 4:51PM. We can board the plane to Brussels in just under an hour. I'm a little sad. It's already quite dark and I don't think I'm going to be able to see the ocean from the plane. Hopefully that will change on the return trip.

Other than that, there isn't too much new to report. We met a nice couple here after grabbing some lunch. They told me all about Spain and flying and traveling. Alex? What say you?



And to finish things off, a picture of a plane for Marc:


I'm off to the terminal. I love you all! The next post will be from Europe or Africa!