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I woke up (at 5am, ouch!) and went to the window to get another look at the wonderful view of the bridge and castle, opened the curtain, and whoops, there’s another window looking back at me. Another Viking ship docked in the night next to us. So now not only can I not see the bridge but we need to keep the curtains closed or we’d be sharing the room with the couple next door.
We had a quick continental breakfast and headed to the bus to the airport. Joining us for the ride to the airport, Dean and Norma and Tom and Debby, the same people we rode in with on day one! A fitting bookend.
It was about a 45 minute ride to the airport. And once we left downtown, it looked like cities everywhere. Kind of dirty and rundown and industrial.
The airport is relatively small and easy to navigate. Viking left a girl there to help us and she leads us into the terminal and proceeds to fumble with the automated check in. I’m pretty sure I can handle this process myself but we don’t want to be rude. She finally gets the machine to spit out boarding passes for us. In my case two sets which is a little odd, but ok. We thank her and head to baggage check.
We’ve loaded a separate duffel bag with clothes to make room for our purchases. As we’re loading our two suitcases and the bag onto the conveyor, the woman says no, only one bag per person. An additional bag will cost money. Well, ok. I expected that and I’m willing to pay to not have to carry this thing around. Oh no, she says. It’s very expensive. Well, how much? 100 euros. Ouch. But ok, I figure it’s shipping costs. But she’s shaking her head. You should just carry it on. I show her we’ve both already got carry on bags and it’s one per person. No, no, it’s ok she says. Clearly she has no interest in whatever paperwork is required so reluctantly we decide to take it with us.
The border check was pretty cursory. In fact, things went so easy we had 2+ hours to kill at the gate. It gave us some time for people watching. And we found a very interesting guy. He was tall, thin, with dark hair and beard. He’s wearing a Frank Sinatra style hat (I don’t know what those are called), a mid- thigh length dark sport coat, white shirt, thin black tie, 70’s style white running shorts with a pattern or polka dots, dark socks and dress shoes with a small checkerboard pattern on them. A bold fashion choice for sure. Perhaps he could also add a small sign that says ‘please select me for random screening’ (or possibly psych evaluation).
The flight to Frankfurt is pretty uneventful but we were 10-15 minutes late. We have a 1.5 hour layover in Frankfurt and have to switch terminals. And it turns out it’s a hike since I guess we have to get to the international terminal. We get off the plane, rush to other gate, and they’re already boarding. But hey, at least we didn’t have to sit around.
But there are no announcements and nothing to indicate what’s up. It’s United so they board in groups usually. We can’t figure out which group is boarding. There’s just a single long line so we get into it. But then as it gets towards the front, it branches. There’s a shorter line to the left that looks like it goes directly to the plane. And we start to head that way but the attendant announces you have to have a red sticker for that line but doesn’t say how to get one. We figure out there are 2 or 3 people doing security interviews. They’re just standing at random places around the gate with lines of people in front of them, so we pick one.
Things are going relatively smoothly, if slowly, when the guy ahead of us runs afoul of the security guy. They’re talking German but there appears to be an issue with his green card. So he takes the guy off somewhere to strip search him or whatever and we’re left standing in the middle of the boarding area. So now what? It’s about 15 minutes until the scheduled departure time of the flight by now.
So we pick another random line and finally get our little sticker. So now to board. Yeah! But no. Some issue with the boarding check with my passport. Please wait over here. The number of people left in the area is dwindling down to a very small number and I’m getting worried there won’t be overhead space for our additional carry on, not to mention the plane leaving without us.
Finally they decide it’s ok and we head down the stairs at the gate. And find… about 20 people trapped at the bottom of the stairs. There are doors to either side and both are locked. “Tell them the doors are locked” they shout up to us. We go back up and tell them. “Oh, go out the right side”. We go back and tell the people at the bottom. “Both sides are locked”. Back to the gate. They don’t believe us. This goes on for a few rounds until they finally come down and unlock the door. Meanwhile we’re working up a sweat walking up and down the stairs.
We’re getting seriously worried about missing the plane at this point. Assuming we can find it. The doorway leads to a hallway that feels like the airport basement and it leads to… the street. Wait, what is going on here? Did they just give us the bum’s rush out the building? But no, there’s a bus. So we get on the bus and… sit there. And sit there. Waiting, I suppose for the last people from up above but I’m running through the dialogue in my head of what I’m going to scream at these people if we are sitting on this bus while the plane takes off.
But, finally, we are driven out on the tarmac to a stairway up to the plane. I must say, I’ve never boarded a 747 from the tarmac before. I guess the airport is too small for the number of planes, or maybe they don’t have gangways big enough for 747’s. But it was odd.
But, we’re on the plane and that’s a good thing. Time to settle in for a 9 hour flight. There’s a child screaming in the row behind us. Not so good, but not unusual for takeoff, and especially during ascent. But no, this child pretty much screamed off and on the WHOLE FLIGHT. And there seemed to be no real reason for it other than she just seemed to be pissed off. (I could certainly relate after a few hours of this.) The parents brought no distractions of any kind. No books, no toys, no food. Nothing. She was just supposed to sit there and contemplate life or something. She couldn’t even see over the seat to the TV screen at the front. The parents slept. With a screaming child next to them. Thanks for the help.
The United flight crew was surly, practically throwing their crappy food at us. The seats had about 5 inches of leg room. One of the toilets plugged up. They handed out boarding cards but ran out before they got to our row. Didn’t seem to care too much. Ultimately they showed up with another stack and handed those out. They were in German. “Oh just look in the in-flight magazine, there’s an example in English”. Yeah, there is. It’s a small photo to give you an idea what they look like. Even with the magnifying glass app on my phone I couldn’t read it. And the best part, it turned out you don’t need them anymore anyway! All in all it was a series of reasons to never fly United again.
But our tribulations were not over. We arrive in Chicago at the International terminal and it’s another hike in to where we need to go. We wait dutifully at immigration. And what’s this? A new feature. Kiosks where you scan your passport and fill out what amounts to the landing cards. It even takes your picture and prints out a receipt. Pretty cool. We come up to the desk and the border patrol is surlier than the flight attendants. He basically just grunts at us, throws our passports at us and says goodbye in a tone of voice that suggests if he never saw us again it would be too soon. Geez dude, we didn’t run over your dog. We were pleasant. Marion even said “hi”. But always best not to mess with the border people. If you’re not careful, your journey can come to an unexpected end.
So now onto the domestic terminal. We have to take a train. The platform is mobbed. And whatever genius designed the thing has people getting off on the same side as people get on. So it’s chaos when the train arrives. Which is every 8 minutes to ensure that there are more people than space on the train when it gets there. So the doors open and it’s like the last helicopter out of Saigon. I wasn’t too worried since we had plenty of time, but in the crush, Marion got on with about 5 people ahead of me. So now I really want to get on so we don’t get separated. I’ve got my backpack on which makes me two people deep so it’s proving problematic. But I at least get into the doorway although not all the way in. But then some woman muscles past me into the available space I was shooting for and she’s got an entourage of 4 or 5 people with her so now all of *them* need to get on the train to not be separated. There’s really no space for them. I can’t turn in any direction because of the backpack. But I just kept shoving until we all finally squeeze in. I’ve got my back to this woman and apparently I whacked her a few times with it to which I say karma’s a bitch.
Needless to say, by now I’m hoping terrorists attack the airport so I can grab one of their guns and start shooting people myself. Luckily on the last flight, the lady next to us was nice and we chatted a bit and the flight attendants were pleasant and I managed not to hurt anybody.
All we have to do now is get the car and drive home. We go to leave the parking lot and the credit card is denied. Oh yeah, that whole thing with the security breach. The card was going to be turned off on the 8th. It’s the 8th. I guess they meant first thing on the 8th. But we work it out with the attendant and make it home and to bed.
I will be glad when teleporters are invented. Nothing ruins the sense of relaxation, calm and happiness of a long vacation like dealing with the airlines and airports. And what a shame too because we were very happy and relaxed. But nothing a good night’s sleep won’t fix.
7/8/14
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