28 hours later

 Today is (insert actual day here) and it has been some weird number of hours since I landed. It might have been 20 hours ago, Celsius, which is 5 minutes and spin around 14 times in Imperial Measure. I always assumed that Imperial Measure what a section of that Darth Vader song. Whatever. I'm back in New Jersey again, and ready to sum up the last and fleeting moments of this momentous visit. So here we go.

When you last left your intrepid explorer, he was sitting at a cafe in Ben Gurion, ready to kill 8 hours. That actually went really well. The airport never really shut down -- flights were still coming in and by the time the last flight departed, people were already checking in for the first morning flights. I saw that some people were going through security so I asked when I could, as well. The gentleman said I could actually go through at 3AM (not 5AM!) and also that I was on the wrong level of the airport. So up to level 3, to the C group. When I approached the security people there they confirmed 3 AM so I sat there and waited. At 3:01 (hey, I was in the middle of something) I went through and made it quickly to the front of the ine so I could check my bag in. At the counter, the woman said that everyone else was wrong and that I would have to wait until 5AM but since I had already been through the line, I could go into the next room and sit at a coffee shop or something and then come back when it was 5. I went through and saw no coffee shop, but I did see a McDonald's. Yes, it was 3:30 in the morning but who am I to waste such an opportunity? I didn't see anywhere to wash so I eschewed bread based meals and went with nuggs, fries and onion rings. The nuggs were what I could get in any freezer section, the fries mere mediocre but the onion rings made my night. I began to wonder how anyone could have access to these and still remain remotely svelte.

A few minutes later, I found the answer and hurried to the nearest bathroom, all my bags in tow. That was harrowing. But it did help kill most of the time until I could return to the front of the line and check my bag (5:05AM). Then through various other security lines at a leisurely pace. I wandered through the food court which was lively as ever, and walked to D8. There I sat, early (but not the first one -- truth!) and relaxed. I paced, I davened, I paced some more. I even took a survey in Hebrew about my trip. She asked in Hebrew and I answered in English. At 8:10 it was time to board so I popped an anti-histamine and got to 35K on the Herzeliya plane. We lifted off at 9:05 and I think that I, wrapped in 2 jackets, a blanket and a scarf and gloves, was asleep. The next 12 hours were full of shifting around, waking up, nodding off, napping and such. Part of the problem was that my seat was next to the emergency door and there were slight drafts coming through. When outside is -62 F, a little draft is very cold. Also, at some point, I realized that my kippah had fallen, so I spent time annoying everyone while looking for it. Eventually I gave up and had visions of myself going through customs with a scarf on my head. I then realized that my left shoe (I took my shoes off when I fell asleep because my feet were swollen and warm, but some time later, I put them back on because my feet were freezing) was still tight and I checked. My kippah had fallen into my shoe. Hilarity ensued and I fell back asleep. I ate nothing on the flight because I was still burping up flavors of foods I have never even eaten. Lotsa burpin and uncomfortableness and nausea and that's without eating any of the in flight meals. I believe that burata cheese and Mickey D's was a potent combination that brought my digestive track to its knees (which are my kishkes).

Landing, deplaning, passport control (no human interaction -- it takes your picture and says "OK, cool") and waiting for bags (mine was NOT the last one out...WINNING). Racer drove me back and I have been stumbling through life since then. I did just have Dunkin for breakfast so there's that.

We will now resume the rest of my life, already in progress.