Several people have asked that I
write and post pictures so I'll do that here.
As I write this it's about 4 AM
Georgia time and I just left Johannesburg South Africa... But I
digress... since I haven't even made it to Madagascar yet, I
don't have anything to say and no real pictures to post. But I
feel like typing, so I'll tell you about the trip so far.
So Monday (20th Sept) morning I had
to get up at 2 AM and leave by 2:30 AM to drive to Atlanta to
catch the 6:25 AM flight. Whoever thought leaving that early
was a good idea should be shot!
As luck would have it, the flight
was delayed over an hour because of a "light-bulb issue" in the
cockpit. Doesn't sound all that critical to me, but someone
thought it needed fixin.
Meanwhile, I'm supposed to land in
LaGuardia, collect my two large checked in bags from baggage
claim jump in a cab and go to JFK (14 miles away).
By the time we get in the air and I
do the math, I "know" I can't possibly make my next
flight. According to the airline, you are "supposed" to check
in three hours before an international flight. At touchdown, I
had less than 1 1/2 hours till take off.
But being the optimist, I hustle
down to baggage claim and what do you know, my bags come out
in the first batch. Collect those two bags (for a total of four
with my carry-ons) and run/hobble out to the taxi stand... only
to find a VERY LONG taxi line. It turns out that the UN was
having an event in New York City so the cabs are somewhat
scarce.
1 hour and 15 minutes and
counting...
I start counting heads and doing
the math again. About 50 people ahead of me. Average of about
2 people per group with cabs coming about 45 seconds apart.
CRAP! Yup, it took every bit of 20 minutes to get my own cab.
55 minutes and counting...
About 14 miles to JFK. My Cabbie
was great! He knew I was in a rush and I explained that my
international flight was due to leave in less than an hour. He
made a "tisking" sound and then stomped the gas. He bounced off
of 90 MPH during one little stretch and even with New York
traffic managed to get me there in 16 minutes. Yes, he got a
big tip.
39 minutes and counting...
I run/hobble to the VERY empty
South African Airline counter and approach the VERY
disinterested looking woman behind the counter and before I
could even begin to beg, she informed me that the flight was
closed. As the only other two SAA employees approached (no
doubt to see a wanna-be passenger have a coronary from
the-just-run marathon), I said to her..."Yes Maam, I'm very
certain it is closed. But you have the power to get me on that
plane. So what-do-ya-say?" or something to that affect.
After a few contemplative seconds
and a stare down to see if I would blink, she suddenly embraced
her new mission in life and began barking orders to the other
two employees. As it turns out, it's a little more difficult
than I thought to "UN-Close" a flight. (as I write this, I'm
two hours from Madagascar so I will soon see if my bags made
it...) the last I saw of them, they were being loaded on a
special cart to be hustled directly to the plane. (I think bag
screening can get real "optional" when people are trying to beat
the clock).
In not so many words, the NOW
Interested South African Airline Lady tells me to "run" to
security and get to the gate pronto... So being the obedient
"Gonna-be" passenger, I break into a trot towards the x-ray
machines. My optimism was on the rise and I was feeling
somewhat gleeful thinking I can just breeze through what appears
to be an almost empty security gate, when I turn the
corner and am met head-on with a wall-of-humanity.
22 minutes and counting...
Now this may sound a bit
anti-Semitic and I don't mean it be, but there was about two
hundred VERY-JEWISH people with LOTS of kids clearly going on
some pilgrimage to some far off land that required international
travel. I couldn't understand most of what they were saying but
in my mind it translated to "The Home Land Awaits!".
For the next 10 minutes or so I
stood neck deep in baby carriages and men with inappropriately
long strands of curly hair protruding from their black hats,
dressed in impossibly complicated religious garb - "foot
shuffling" forward their carry-on bags that didn't stand a
chance of fitting in any known overhead bin...
...AND THEN I SEE HER... my angel
from the SAA counter (in her now very attractive blue vest with
stained white shirt)... I know she saw me back there...the only
one without a hat and not wearing black clothes craning my neck
so as to get her attention. SHE was cutting line. Walking
straight to the mouth of the x-ray machine with her clipboard
and personal bag. I pleaded with my eyes for her to take me
with her, but all I got was a "pinky-wave". Now here I thought
we had bonded -deep sigh- and then she was gone.
11 minutes and counting...
For what seemed like an eternity I
shuffled forward watching in agony as one pilgrim after another
failed every security etiquette test known to the TSA. Our 9/11
spawned rent-a-cops went hoarse bellowing ridiculously similar
commands like "YES, the stroller must be folded up and must go
through the x-ray machine" and "NO, I said it must be folded
first" and "YES, you MUST take the baby out" and "You must empty
your pockets" and "I SAID, empty ALL your pockets" and "YES,
BOTH SHOES must come off" ... well you get the picture. For
those of you familiar with airport travel, you can appreciate
how thankful I was that this group didn't seem to be carrying
laptops. I would still be there.
-1 minute and counting...
FINALLY, I'm the next to go. I
practically attach myself to the guy in front of me going
through the metal detector, when upon setting off the alarm he
gets in a (yiddish laden) argument about why he shouldn't have
take off his metal-laced suspenders because they were holding up
his pants. As he steps aside to continue the argument, I slide
sideways through the metal detector, snatch my bags and shoes
and hustle to the "put-yourself-back-together" table. I could
have sworn I heard a TSA agent now afflicted with laryngitis say
something about my ninja-like slide by, but I decided to ignore
it and simply brace for the body slam, which thankfully never
came.
As I break into an all out run
towards Gate A28 I pass a young fellow with a SAA blue vest that
asked me if I was Baldwin. I wheezed out a "yes" and kept
going. As if to be impossibly redundant, I heard him mutter
"you better hurry". -grunt-
My gate was easy to spot, even
without the signage, because there were about eight more blue
vested people standing in the center walk way clearly amused by
my galloping approach. My angel, with a somewhat dimmer halo,
leaned over and whispered in another girls ear while
simultaneously giving me the pinky-wave again. (in retrospect
she might have simply been performing a reenactment of the
previous events... I guess I'll never know)
My ticket gets scanned and as I
pass through each successive door I can hear the unmistakable
sound of a lock engaging behind me. Finally I make it into the
actual airplane and am greeted with very polite and knowing
smiles from the crew. Even before I make it to my seat, I hear
the announcement that the doors are now shut, seat-backs must be
in the forward locked position, tray-tables should be
secured and all mobile devices should be off... blah... blah...
blah. I manage to get a quick text message off to those praying
for me and turn off my phone.
-4 minutes and no longer
counting...
The rest of the trip was somewhat
uneventful.
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