Advertisement
Published: November 17th 2006
Edit Blog Post
Apparently it’s not possible, but somehow last week I managed it. It started off as a Thursday, not the most exciting day of the week, but far from the worst. I awoke at 7.30 after a maximum of 4 hours sleep (I find long journeys and sad farewells slightly less unbearable if I am too exhausted to think), had breakfast, checked my bags one last time and started the journey.
Everything was easy to start with, the taxi to the door, check in, through passport control, onto the plane. Sitting by the window I was barely aware of the magnitude of what was happening. I was leaving. Leaving Latin America. Not just a crossing a border, but leaving a way of life and culture that I have been a part of for the past 9 months. And the trouble with flying is that you don’t really get a chance to say goodbye, the land leaves you far to quickly, everyone is in so much of a hurry that there is no chance to adjust to the changes.
A few hours later we landed in Los Angeles airport. All baggage needs to be collected, and then re-checked in, so I
traipsed around with my ruc sac guided by several unsmiling officials from one destination to the next until I finally found myself at the united check in desk. There I was told to wait. For 4 hours. No café or lounge, no apologies. Admittedly I was a little early (8 hours or so), but I there was nothing to do but catch a bus to the arrivals terminal and wait there. The lack of sleep helped, along with a book, and I managed to while away the hours in a café. I blatantly disregarded the notice regarding obligatory alcohol consumption (3pm just isn’t the time for a G&T), sticking to cola instead.
When the first 4 hours were up I made my way back to the check in desk and waited a little longer for the desks to open. Amazingly my bag was under the weight limit. Entering the departure area was a maximum security exercise, including the removal of shoes and belts, but at least provided some sort of activity in the otherwise fairly monotonous day. It was when I entered the departure lounge that I remembered the reason for the over zealous security checks…
…I was
here just over 5 years ago, waiting for my flight home after a 2 week holiday in the Southwest of the USA. I had spent my last dollar on a fresh orange juice for breakfast, and was sitting in the lounge not doing much, when I suddenly noticed everyone suddenly clustered around the TV screen in the bar. It was the morning, not the normal time for a popular TV show. As the crowd grew, so did my curiosity, and I eventually joined the growing throng of people. On the screen there was a picture of a plane flying into a tall building. At first I though it was a new film, only when I looked closer and saw CNN on the bottom did I realise it was real. It took several more minutes to work out that not only was it real but that it was live, in New York. Las time I was in the lounge I was left with no instructions from the airline to say collect your baggage and leave… I heard it all on the radio. All the baggage had been dumped in a huge pile outside check in, but no announcement was made that that is where it was. I remember feeling shocked, and scared. At that time no one knew what was going to happen next - was this the worst, or was there more to come? Would it be safe to fly later that day or would I have to wait weeks? I was on my own in a country that could possibly be about to be at war, and it was frightening. Well everyone knows what happens next, after a few days flights were running again, and I was on one of the first back home. It was strange going back and reliving the sensations again.
After another 4 hours or so I had exhausted the few shops that LAX has to offer (of all the airports to be marooned at, LAX has to be one of the worst, possibly because you expect so much better from a main transfer point, and large city. But there is nothing to do there, and I bought another book to keep myself entertained. The plane was due to leave at local time 10.30pm, gone midnight on my body clock. I had the unenviable seat in front of the TV, squashed in the middle of the middle row. The flight was packed, so there wasn’t much option of moving. We sat on the runway for a good 30minutes, and finally entered the time travel part of the journey. We were in the air for approximately 13hours, taking me into Friday morning. However when we landed in Brisbane (unscheduled stop to refuel for the last hour to Sydney) it was 6am Saturday morning. Somehow I lost a whole day, and was transported into the future. I was pretty sure I hadn’t slept more than a few hours, certainly not enough to miss a day, but there you are.
I missed my connection in Sydney, but was quickly transferred to another flight to Auckland. (Air New Zealand being superior to United in almost every way, friendlier, more organised, helpful, not to mention a much nicer aircraft with more leg room and personal TV). When I arrived it was almost evening again, somehow propelled even further forward in time, and by the time I collapsed through Kate’s front door it was well into night time. I looked at my watch, it said 5am. I had travelled 17hours into the future. It wasn’t easy, or cheap, and I don’t think I gained a lot, but it made me realise that even the impossible can be possible.
Advertisement
Tot: 0.207s; Tpl: 0.012s; cc: 13; qc: 67; dbt: 0.168s; 1; m:domysql w:travelblog (10.17.0.13); sld: 1;
; mem: 1.2mb
Mama
non-member comment
And Mexico?
Wonderful, evocative writing - wish my journals had been that good - but please don't leave out a blog on Mexico! Aml M xxxxxs