My parents are flying into Beirut for the easter break. They have the combined age of 182 years but still like to travel. At Amsterdam airport they were sent to Pier C22, and when they got there, they were redirected to Pier D41. “I think we must have walked a kilometer and a half just to get to the plane,” tells my father.
When they get to Beirut, there’s another long walk to passport control. He has to fill out a white immigration paper, but the lighting in the plane isn’t good enough, so he figures he’ll fill in the paperwork once he gets out. But there really isn’t any place to fill them out, so here’s he’s fumbling with his papers, until an immigration officer sees him.