The Worst Part of Travel

We've finally reached the end of the road in terms of posts related to my time in Europe last year. I think it's fitting for this post be on my least favorite part of overseas travel; returning to America. While the end of a journey is certainly a sad thing in of itself, what I'm referring to in particular is going through immigration and security when I arrive at the (American) airport. For some reason, it always takes longer and is harder for an American to come back to America than it is for one of us to enter Europe. It always takes an hour or more and for some reason it's not enough that I went through security at the airport in Europe. I understand that in our post 9/11 world, airport security is more extensive and rightfully taken more seriously, but we've got to find a way to speed up the process for American citizens coming home. When I was in Paris in November and looking ahead to the end of my journey, I was feeling a little down. Part of it was the knowledge that the dream was coming to an end, but the other part was knowing what was waiting for me upon arrival back in America.