Arriving at Schiphol

I have arrived in Europe. Off the plane at 6:45am. Passport control a breeze. The officer mentions that I no longer wear a beard and then laughs. Bag collection is slow. At 7:15am, I enter the main area of Schiphol airport to look for my sister. She is not here. I wander to the cafe where we had planned to meet if either of us were late.

While waiting I am struck by how quiet it is. Unlike American airports, there is not the nearly constant droning of the loudspeaker reminding idiots that smoking is not allowed or that suspicious bags should be reported to security. People glide about with a purpose. I am surprised to see soldiers patrolling carrying large obviously deadly weapons. They seem out-of-place in this tranquil setting. Maybe the US should have soldiers patrolling our airports, instead of rental cops. I wonder if that would make our citizens feel safer or lead to even more irrational fear.

Hey, my sis is here. Time to visit Amsterdam.