Vienna to Kyiv

From the time I deboarded the Delta flight from Atlanta in Vienna, I had only about 40 minutes to check in to Austrian Airways, race through the Austrian passport check, and then almost run all the way to the other side of the airport for my flight to Kyiv. As it was, I was about the last one to arrive.

The flight was very interesting, with announcements made by the flight crew in German, Russian and English. Also, they passed out newspapers in both German and Ukrainian. The flight was short, only about 90 minutes, and much of that was spent filling out the Ukrainian "Immigration Card." As we broke the cloud cover and saw the countryside around the airport for the first time, it really struck me that we were here. I have dreamed of this day for thirty years.

The Kyiv Airport is an older building with a very institutional Soviet-era feeling about it. There is no extending gate which would enable the passengers to walk right into the concourse. Instead, we had to walk down an open stairway some considerable distance out on the tarmac (at least two football fields away from the building), and then board a bus without seats (only overhead and side rails to hold onto) in which we were driven to the concourse. We then enter the building past some sinister looking guys in leather coats and radios through a staircase entrance, and go through a maze of passport and customs stations, all manned by uniformed guards. Before customs, there are carousels where the luggage is being disgorged from the arriving plane. I waited for about fifteen minutes, when a woman in a red uniform walked through the throng calling, "Gibbons, Gibbons!" It turns out she was from the airline, and had learned that my suitcase did not make it to the plane in Vienna (unlike me) but would come later tonight. She then rapidly filled out three or four forms, had me sign them and literally walked me through customs, without the slightest by-your-leave from the uniformed guard there. So, I got through customs in about thirty seconds. That may be why I look so happy in this picture taken in front of the airport by my driver. (More about that later). I had been dreading customs more than anything, and it was over like that.

The down side is that I will have to stay awake tonight until ten o'clock or later waiting for my suitcase.

Now I am especially glad that I carried on all of my clothes. I do worry, however, that my incentive gifts for my students will be lost somewhere in central or eastern Europe.