One last wander around Lviv before I leave for home and J is off to Poland.
My seat companion on the flight to Warsaw doesn't speak to me. But I hear him talking on the phone when we land. He is American. He hears me talking to a woman who can't find her gate, and he says, "Well you go had me fooled, I thought you were Ukrainian!" I'm not sure what it was about me that gave him that impression, but there you go. I end up spraying my much coveted and prized bottle of fizzy water all over the Polish security line and myself in an effort to get a precious sip. Ah, the glamorous life of travel!
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