Cities We "Saw".....

A few of you have asked what our route to Russia looked like. There are no direct flights to St Petersburg, Russia...even from Dulles. So we got to "see" lots of airports in Europe.

Where we flew through, in order:

Dulles to Franfurt to St Petersburg Russia (Lufstansa),

St Petersburg to Munich to Dulles,

Dulles to Paris to St Petersburg (Air France),

St Petersburg to Paris to Dulles,

Dulles to Copenhagen to St Petersburg (Swiss Air),

St Petersburg to Moscow (Aeroflat-yikes!),

Moscow to Dulles (our only direct flight!).

It was somewhat excruciating to be "so close yet so far away" to all these AMAZING places!

Thankfully, I had seen Paris a couple of times in my college and younger days. Sadly, we had dear friends just one hour from Frankfurt but our transfer there was so fast that we sprinted through the whole airport and nearly missed our connecting flight. Each trip we only had about a week's notice so we grabbed whatever flight we could get within reason. We travelled light every trip...never checking any luggage until the last leg with Ana.

The worst airport to travel through was Charles DeGualle in Paris...we had hours before our connection but the security set up was so poor that we almost missed a flight there too. Every airport required us to go through security again and again- even though we were getting off one international flight and onto another. Matt stopped wearing belts and we wore slip on shoes.

The cleanest and most "secure" feeling airport was Munich. It was sparkling. We had a 6 hour layover there which felt REALLY LONG with the time changes, etc. Too tired to read, too uncomfortable to sleep on the leather and steel chairs. Munich was rather hyper about security. Our passports must have been checked a dozen times each....even once we were in the gate. At one point I made the "mistake" of walking 50 feet to the restroom without mine. I explained to the guard that my husband had it and even pointed to him across the way, but I was "escorted" back to the gate to show it. You even had to show your passport to buy a cup of coffee both in Germany and in Moscow.

Because St Petersburg is up so high (60 degree latitude), Copenhagen was the most direct route...just 7 hours from Dulles and only 2 more to St Petersburg.

What a whirlwind!

A photo of Kirsten- taking a "nap" in Charles DeGualle Airport

First 48 Hours Home...

This photo was taken 48 hours after arriving home. The first few days were a mix of everything...exhaustion (jet lag had me up at 4:30AM the first morning), euphoria, and "ooohhhh, that's right" moments (as in; "oohhh, that's right, you can't put a 2 years olds' crib next to a window shade" and "ooohhh, that's right, safety gates"!). It's been a while since I had to have the safety radar on 24/7! And then there was the issue of the dog. We figured she would be a bit hesitant....and perhaps have never seen a dog. However, we were unprepared for her to be completely terrified of the dog. She did not want to even see the dog across the room and she especially did not want to be sniffed or have the dog actually look at her! Six weeks later, we can report that Sarah the Dog is one of her favorites. Every morning Ana wakes up with new enthusiasm for the dog, pointing her out and making "woof-woof" noises to communicate. Sarah, is, however, getting a little pudgy around the middle. The constant flow of Ritz crackers and other treats "falling" from the high chair is catching up to her.

Flying...the Friendly Skies

Many of you all know, I don’t really like to fly. In actuality, I’ve flown plenty. I flew for the first time at age 1 from the US to Scotland where, as my Mom’s famous family story goes, I learned to walk in Edinburgh. When my father’s job posted him outside London the later part of high school and into my college years, I “jumped the pond” as the Brits would say, at least quarterly for years. But when you’re leaving 3 babies on the other side of the world, you start to get a bit weary of international travel. The feeling of adventure is less, and the worry is heightened. When my Nana from Boston to Philadelphia to visit us she would report; “I had to pray the plane up and down (insert number) times.” Direct flights were better to her…less praying necessary. I thought this was funny as a younger gal but found myself adopting this method during our many flights around Europe en route to Russia. I would be irrationally calculating the likelihood of a terrorist boarding our plane in this airport versus that airport. I’d look for our proximity to the “Exit” doors all the while knowing that those doors are almost never, if ever, used. I’d consider the weather, or what I thought to be the age of the aircraft, the amount of time the crew had, to my very uninformed knowledge, seemed to have to prepare and “check “ the plane from the last flight until we took off. The whole time I would simultaneously chide myself for being so paranoid but what can I say; that’s really what was going on in my head. There was constantly a pull between my (fairly) unrealistic fear and the knowledge of my Creator who loved me and had plans and purposes for me beyond my understanding but represented the only place I should want to be. By the thirteenth flight (yes, “13th”), I was slightly more relaxed. I kept reminding myself each flight that God was Sovereign and that nothing thwarted His plans and so forth. By this last flight, I simply hydrated, popped two Tylenol, squeezed into my Economy Class seat (or “steerage seat” as Matt called them) and settled into the stale air filled metal tube that would be our home for the next 12 hours. Ana, on the other hand, was an angel. After her nap, she remained very calm and happily sat on our laps for hours while amusing herself with something as mundane as my coat zipper or the seat button. Why can’t we have this childlike faith as adults? Ana was sitting in the lap of her earthly Father (or Mother) and had no fear. In the lap of our Heavenly Father, why should we?