It is extraordinary to watch NHL playoff hockey in an airport, particularly Toronto’s airport, when everyone in the bar is dying as the Montreal Canadiens blow a 4-2 lead in the third period, eventually losing in overtime to Washington 6-5. GAH! Being away for three weeks means I will come back mid-way into the second round. Half the teams now playing will be gone, and we should have a much better idea who could take the Cup than we do currently, when it seems no one really wants it.
Checking in at Edmonton was surreal - normally, on a Saturday afternoon, it would be packed with people travelling east to make evening overseas connections. The security line can run 30 or 40 minutes, minimum. But today, thanks to an Icelandic volcano, I walked right up to the wicket, no lineup at Air Canada. While the attendant could not upgrade me to the sold-out business class (with the awesome-looking lie flat pods), she did manage to put me in a row near the back with three empty seats across. So I hope to be able to at least sleep a bit on the plane. We leave Toronto at 10 to midnight, and do not arrive in BA until nearly 3 in the afternoon. It is a very long flight.
Of course, there is always someone who apparently never listens to, or reads, the news. As I was checking my seating options, a breathless woman in her 30s rushed up to the adjacent wicket, and actually let out a howl when the attendant told her her flight to Rome had been cancelled. “Check again,” she implored - just in case the volcano had made an exception, just for her. Seriously - flights to Europe have been cancelled for days, and she doesn’t know that? Embarrassing.
Perhaps owing to the slow day at security, the new people were receiving extra training. I, the epitome of racial profiling in action, was selected for random further screening by a very pleasant young woman who looked like she belonged in high school. She dutifully explained each step in the process, and gave me a thorough “pat down” only slightly less intensive than my annual mammogram. She apologized before moving to each stage of the process, ending with an ankle massage and a look at the soles of my feet. I am pleased to say both of us passed our test, and her instructor seemed particularly happy with how we had both conducted ourselves.
The flight from Edmonton, on an Embraer 190, was smooth and fast - less than 4 hours gate to gate. I managed to catch up on recent movies - it only seemed appropriate to watch “Up in the Air” while flying myself. Despite all the awards, and the heightened expectations I therefore had, the movie was great and thoroughly enjoyable. I particularly recommend a scene partway through the film where George Clooney is sitting in a hotel lounge with his impossibly young co-worker, Anna Kendrick, and his paramour, Vera Farmiga, discussing their changing expectations in partners as they age. Hysterical.
The flight to Buenos Aires is close to full, with perhaps 15 empty seats on the whole plane. My first sign that this flight would not be like other international flights? Being served a full hot supper at 12:30 am. Only on a flight to South America would one presume folks are going to eat now, and perhaps nap around 4. I did get my three seats across, which totalled about 4.5 linear feet. Which is about a foot shorter than I am, which made for an intriguing several hours of trying to contort myself into a pretzel that could still balance on less than deep cushions. I got some rest, but I doubt Day 1 in BA is going to be terribly eventful!
After 10.5 hours in flight, we stopover in Santiago. Security is quite something. In Toronto, there were two extra checkpoints I needed to be scanned through, after I cleared general security, and in Santiago, where we changed planes and crews, there was another security point, where our carry-on luggage was inspected anew, and we were wanded. Keep in mind none of us ever left the secured transfer zone. Why all the extra security suddenly is a mystery, but I now feel very, very protected.
The approach to Santiago is a bit unnerving - the plane comes down a channel between two ranges in the Andes. Looking out the windows on each side of the plane and seeing only mountains, and not from above, but at eye-level, is a bit unnerving. Perhaps they should have timed the flight so this part would happen under cover of darkness, and not late morning.
Disappointingly, the first thing one sees in the Santiago airport proper, once you’ve cleared the security point, is a Starbucks. Across the hall from a Dunkin Donuts. En espanol, but still.
Anyway, it is a hot, humid day threatening rain, so the mountain views are a bit hazy, but here’s the first shot from this vacation:
Update: Sunday, 4:34 pm I have now arrived in BA and have checked into my apartment hotel. It is lovely. I will post pictures tomorrow, once I recover from the flight, the heat and humidity.
1 comment:
YES. Travel posts. I love them.
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