Adventures in Airports Monday and Tuesday Jan 18-19

Monday, January 18

At 6:30 I join two of my fellows for a large and tasty going-away breakfast which includes yet more tree-ripened papaya.  I’ll miss that.    They will rent a car at the airport since they are staying on the Big Island for a bit longer.  Sunrise is gorgeous out the restaurant window.

 My taxi isn’t coming until 8:45 but I want a relaxing time to finish packing since my brain is tired.  I wander aimlessly from the bedroom to bathroom, trying to remember what I’m looking for.  I had plenty of coffee, what’s the matter with my brain?  Probably tired from a very rich (and enriching) program.  

I’m in the lobby by 8:00 AM, checking email at a desk.  All my important flight printouts and passport are close at hand in a blue folder.  When the taxi arrives, I wheel my suitcase and carry my backpack but leave the blue folder on the desk.  When the driver asks when my plane leaves, I realize what I’m missing and run back quickly to grab the blue folder.  Yikes!  Close call.

I’m sharing the taxi with someone from my group.  To my fellow passenger in the front seat, the driver says he is Portuguese.  A great many workers for the old plantations came from Portugal and stayed.  He says there is only one island that has “pure” Hawaiians.  Unfortunately I do not hear which one that is.

It is only ten minutes to the small Hilo airport; no traffic.  As I walk toward the entrance the taxi driver yells, “Ma’m, your suitcase!”  OMG!  Unnerving, all this forgetting.  I must be more alert!

 Small airports are so great.  Easy check-in.  My suitcase needs to be inspected by some sort of machine run by the U.S.D.A. (Agriculture).  Produce can bring in damaging insects to the mainland.  
I see a poster about removing standing water to lessen mosquito-carried dengue fever.

 All the gates are on the second floor, which is completely open-air.  Birds fly around us as we wait for the plane.  

I don’t want to be a pilot but I love flying.  I see the most wonderful views of the world from the sky.
 

 In short order, I arrive in Honolulu.  Absolutely no rush to find my next gate.  The flight to Seattle leaves at 10:40 PM so I have almost 12 hours to wait.  I see many bathrooms.  

During one of many saunters in various hallways I hear a voice calling my name.  How lovely that two of my R.S. friends are here — also waiting, but for an earlier flight.

 During part of our waiting time together, we lounge in the outdoor Chinese garden replete with ducks and a pond.  How intelligent of the airport:  to set up an enclosed, but outdoor, park for travelers.  

A display honoring three segregated Japanese-American Army Units in WWII catches my attention.  They received many awards for their valiant successes.

 In late-afternoon, I sit on a chair looking out at palm trees and birds in an open air passageway of the airport.  I am trying to capture a photo of a bird with a red rump when a pretty dove flies in and sits in a nearby chair.

  I take a picture and mention to the man sitting nearby that this is the advantage of an open air setup.  He laughs.  His flight to Aukland NZ is two hours late so he won’t be leaving until after midnight.  It is now 6 PM.  I tell him I’m waiting for a 10:40 plane.  But I arrived at 10:30 this morning whereas he didn’t get here until 3:30.

I tell him I picked the wrong plane; could have had a non-stop from Atlanta to Honolulu if I’d flown Delta.  He could have flown non-stop from Vancouver to New Zealand.  He throws up his hands with frustration as he says he was trying to save $150.  “I picked Alaska Airlines because of the leg and head room,” I tell him.  Both seem equally goofy at the moment.

We have lots of time to chat.  He lives near Winnipeg Canada where it’s -30 today.  He left his parka and thermal underwear in an airport locker up there.  They love global warming cause it’s usually -40.  They bury the water pipes 6-8 feet deep but sometimes they freeze up anyway.  His daughters have work-vacation visas in New Zealand so he’s traveling to visit them.  We agree that traveling is a mixed bag:  wonderful once you get there but a pain in the butt on the way.

 We both check the departure board to see whether a gate has been posted yet for our flights.  What?  MY flight has been delayed two hours?  Now this fellow is leaving at 12:30 AM and I’m leaving at 12:40?  Yikes!  I arrived in this airport about 10:30 in the morning so I will be practically living in it 14 hours, assuming the plane is not further delayed.  We laugh a tiny bit.  A very teeny, tiny bit.

 By 11:30 PM those of us waiting for the Seattle plane look like the trailer for a zombie movie.  A couple have fallen asleep sitting up, jerking their heads periodically.  A few others are sort of tilted over the  chair handrails, drooling.  That’s my group.

Happily everything else goes smoothly.  I am blessed to have nobody else on my row (a novel experience on a 4 1/2 hour red-eye flight).  So I stretch out across three seats to sleep lying down for two hours.  It is not easy stretching out with a seat belt around your middle but I need the sleep so badly.  

January 19

Now it is Tuesday morning and I am in the Seattle airport watching lots of retired, bearded lumberjacks and other cold-sturdy souls.  I’ve had a medium dark mocha and a blueberry scone.  I’ll go back to eating sensibly Wednesday.  It’s about 9:00 AM.

 We board on time for the four hour flight to Atlanta.  Seattle is cloudy and shows signs of rain.  The plane’s service carts are solar-powered but I wonder:  Is there enough sun to power them?  I know Seattle is beautifully located and forward-thinking ecologically, but I would miss Georgia’s sun.
 Near to Seattle, mountains have snowy tops.  

As we head East, we fly over many snowy mountains but the co-pilot is silent about what they are.

 Halfway home I have a beautiful view of the moon. 

And then, Atlanta.  My suitcase is not on the belt at baggage claim.  I wait 20 minutes; no suitcase, meaning Alaska Airlines will give me bonus miles.  I am too tired to be worried or anxious in any way.  A helpful woman at the Alaska desk is cimpleting the lost-suitcase form.  Next to me is a Canadian couple who have not received their third suitcase.  The wife wanders off and calls, “It’s here!  Our suitcase is here now!”  Mine arrives also but the sweet desk lady lets me keep my 4,000 bonus miles since my suitcase arrived after their 20 minute deadline.  Hmm, maybe I’ll go to Alaska.

I get in bed at 9:30 PM, ten minutes after I get home, setting the alarm for 7:00 in the morning.  It’s really good to see Toni and Feather.

Wednesday, January 20

I get out of bed about two hours after the alarm rings.  After a leisurely breakfast I head for the Georgia State Botanical Garden where a  couple of Nature Ramble buddies and I get our Native Plant Certificates.  After lunch I pretty much fade out and head home.  All these adventures tire me out.