1/22 Back to Manhattan via Munich. This airport is increasingly establishing itself as by far the best one when it comes to wheelchair logistics and associated friendliness. Which gives me an ever so slight feeling of relief I’ll be keeping my German passport in addition to the American one, after all. And then we sit in tiny economy seats for eight hours and fifteen minutes, and then, as we get driven home from the airport, as we pass thousands of windows, I realize for the first time that despite all the details, the lamps, the curtains in these apartments, I never see any person in them, no silhouette, ever. I’m sure I would if I looked a little longer and a little closer, but still.