Thuy, Jay, and I left Chennai one week before everyone else. Our flight was scheduled for 4:00 AM. Yes, that AM as in really, really early. We planned to arrive at the airport at 1:00 AM, which is also really, really early if you're waking up for it; really really late; if you're staying up for it; or one more hour until the bar closes, if you're in college. For us, it was really, really late as we woke up at our usual time on Wednesday and stayed up all day.
As I told you, the trip was to carry supplies and furnishings to Chad and Valli's flat in Chennai. So going back, we should travel relatively light, right? Wrong. All those souvenirs we bought add up and we spent Wednesday try to get each of the six suitcases under 50 pounds. Seriously, we were leaving India with just as much stuff as we brought.
We arrived at the airport at about 1 AM as did the microvan carrying our luggage, and I looked in horror at the long line of people waiting to get into the airport. No problem though. Not only is Valli a frequent flier to Chennai, she is a frequent customer of a particular porter. Really, she has his mobile phone number. So the porter and his partner arrived and with them, we sped right into the airport.
Now at the first checkpoint, outside the building, we had to show our passports. This is designed to keep out people without passports. The second checkpoint was where we were delayed. By "we", I mean Jay and I. Thuy was delayed by association because she had to wait for us. Passengers could only enter the airport after showing a flight itinerary. Thuy, the savvy traveler, produced hers and entered immediately. Jay and I, did not have ours. The guard pointed us to a sheaf of passenger manifests for the early departures and told us to find our names. We must have scoured each of the 20+ pages four times each and did not see our names. We were getting a bit tense.
Another airport employee informed us that the manifesto for the Qatar flight would not be delivered until 1:30, half an hour later, when the Qatar counter opened. He directed us to a desk, outside the building and a few steps away, where we could buy a print-out of our itinerary for 50R each. So we left Thuy on the other side of the threshold with all the luggage and went to get our itineraries.
We reached the desk and gave our names. Let me just interrupt the story to say that it's nice to be in a place where I never have to spell my name to the person behind the desk. My only experience with that in the US was CVS, where an Indo-American pharmacy tech filled my prescription. OK, back to the story. The lady at the desk had trouble finding Jay's itinerary in the database. I thought that I could make it easier by accessing my flight confirmation e-mail on my phone.
Now I have to interrupt again for a flashback. When we left Dulles, I turned off my phone's wireless connections as a law-abiding air traveler must do. Arriving in Chennai, I re-activated the wireless. Immediately I received three "Welcome to Chennai" text messages. My phone and the nearest wireless communications node had found each other and were introducing themselves. My phone said that it was from out of town. The wireless node replied with the roaming prices for text messages (cheap), phone calls (a little pricier, but not outrageous) and data downloads ("WHAT?! Who do you think I am, Warren Buffet?"). So I switched the wireless off for the rest of the trip.
So, back at the airport, I had to download my old e-mails to the phone. I activated the wireless. My phone, which had been starved for contact with other electronic devices for two and a half weeks, immediately started downloading updates to every program I had ever installed. I wasn't paying attention to that because I was trying to find that e-mail. By the time I found it, Jay had received his itinerary, meaning that the desk lady had found the passenger manifest for the Qatar flight and did not need to see my electronic itinerary. I later learned that I accrued $150 in data roaming charges - all of it to update stupid games that were initially free downloads.
Jay and I were reunited with Thuy and the porters and we headed to the Qatar counter. These porters are well worth the whatever amount of money that Valli paid them. They escorted us to the express line, where we had a short wait behind one family. The porters then hopped behind the counter to help the ticket agent stick the luggage routing labels on our suitcases. Afterwards, we headed to the gate to wait for our flight.
When we landed in Doha, we went through arrival security and headed to our connecting flight. At that gate we had to go through multi-cultural security. I write "multi-cultural" because we observed the Islamic separation of the sexes into two lines as well as the American separation of passengers from our shoes and belts.
Our return flight took a more northerly route, passing over Scandinavia, Greenland (is that part of Scandinavia? I'm not sure) and Canada. We spent the return flight the say way we spent the outbound flight: eating, watching movies, and sleeping.
When we arrived at Dulles, we collected our luggage and headed to customs. We turned in our customs declarations forms to the Immigration and Customs Enforcement (ICE) agent who left Thuy's unmarked and scribbled something on Jay's and mine. Another ICE agent routed Jay and me to another desk and let Thuy exit the airport. Jay and I, unfortunately, had declared an amount of souvenirs that apparently flagged us as smugglers or terrorists. After not-too-long of a wait and a pleasant conversation with a third ICE agent, we were cleared and, once again, were reunited with Thuy.
Thuy's flight to Minneapolis was leaving from Reagan National in a few hours, so we said goodbye and she got in a cab. Jay and I, with five suitcases now, waited for an SUV cab and headed to Germantown. Those of you familiar with the area know that on I-270 the Germantown exit is a few miles after the local lanes merge with the express lanes in Gaithersburg. Somehow though, I was not able to convince the driver of that. He wanted to get on the local lanes right where they start in Bethesda. I, on the other hand, wanted him to stay in the HOV lane so we could get home quickly. I guess we reached a compromised, because he stayed in express lanes but didn't use the HOV lane and we crawled back home.
When we reached the house, I was relieved to see it still in one piece. Jay had a craving for Popeye's chicken, so we picked up dinner and then turned in early. By that time, we had been up for about 40 hours. The next morning, I dropped Jay at Reagan National and went home to unpack.
As I told you, the trip was to carry supplies and furnishings to Chad and Valli's flat in Chennai. So going back, we should travel relatively light, right? Wrong. All those souvenirs we bought add up and we spent Wednesday try to get each of the six suitcases under 50 pounds. Seriously, we were leaving India with just as much stuff as we brought.
We arrived at the airport at about 1 AM as did the microvan carrying our luggage, and I looked in horror at the long line of people waiting to get into the airport. No problem though. Not only is Valli a frequent flier to Chennai, she is a frequent customer of a particular porter. Really, she has his mobile phone number. So the porter and his partner arrived and with them, we sped right into the airport.
Now at the first checkpoint, outside the building, we had to show our passports. This is designed to keep out people without passports. The second checkpoint was where we were delayed. By "we", I mean Jay and I. Thuy was delayed by association because she had to wait for us. Passengers could only enter the airport after showing a flight itinerary. Thuy, the savvy traveler, produced hers and entered immediately. Jay and I, did not have ours. The guard pointed us to a sheaf of passenger manifests for the early departures and told us to find our names. We must have scoured each of the 20+ pages four times each and did not see our names. We were getting a bit tense.
Another airport employee informed us that the manifesto for the Qatar flight would not be delivered until 1:30, half an hour later, when the Qatar counter opened. He directed us to a desk, outside the building and a few steps away, where we could buy a print-out of our itinerary for 50R each. So we left Thuy on the other side of the threshold with all the luggage and went to get our itineraries.
We reached the desk and gave our names. Let me just interrupt the story to say that it's nice to be in a place where I never have to spell my name to the person behind the desk. My only experience with that in the US was CVS, where an Indo-American pharmacy tech filled my prescription. OK, back to the story. The lady at the desk had trouble finding Jay's itinerary in the database. I thought that I could make it easier by accessing my flight confirmation e-mail on my phone.
Now I have to interrupt again for a flashback. When we left Dulles, I turned off my phone's wireless connections as a law-abiding air traveler must do. Arriving in Chennai, I re-activated the wireless. Immediately I received three "Welcome to Chennai" text messages. My phone and the nearest wireless communications node had found each other and were introducing themselves. My phone said that it was from out of town. The wireless node replied with the roaming prices for text messages (cheap), phone calls (a little pricier, but not outrageous) and data downloads ("WHAT?! Who do you think I am, Warren Buffet?"). So I switched the wireless off for the rest of the trip.
So, back at the airport, I had to download my old e-mails to the phone. I activated the wireless. My phone, which had been starved for contact with other electronic devices for two and a half weeks, immediately started downloading updates to every program I had ever installed. I wasn't paying attention to that because I was trying to find that e-mail. By the time I found it, Jay had received his itinerary, meaning that the desk lady had found the passenger manifest for the Qatar flight and did not need to see my electronic itinerary. I later learned that I accrued $150 in data roaming charges - all of it to update stupid games that were initially free downloads.
Jay and I were reunited with Thuy and the porters and we headed to the Qatar counter. These porters are well worth the whatever amount of money that Valli paid them. They escorted us to the express line, where we had a short wait behind one family. The porters then hopped behind the counter to help the ticket agent stick the luggage routing labels on our suitcases. Afterwards, we headed to the gate to wait for our flight.
When we landed in Doha, we went through arrival security and headed to our connecting flight. At that gate we had to go through multi-cultural security. I write "multi-cultural" because we observed the Islamic separation of the sexes into two lines as well as the American separation of passengers from our shoes and belts.
Our return flight took a more northerly route, passing over Scandinavia, Greenland (is that part of Scandinavia? I'm not sure) and Canada. We spent the return flight the say way we spent the outbound flight: eating, watching movies, and sleeping.
When we arrived at Dulles, we collected our luggage and headed to customs. We turned in our customs declarations forms to the Immigration and Customs Enforcement (ICE) agent who left Thuy's unmarked and scribbled something on Jay's and mine. Another ICE agent routed Jay and me to another desk and let Thuy exit the airport. Jay and I, unfortunately, had declared an amount of souvenirs that apparently flagged us as smugglers or terrorists. After not-too-long of a wait and a pleasant conversation with a third ICE agent, we were cleared and, once again, were reunited with Thuy.
Thuy's flight to Minneapolis was leaving from Reagan National in a few hours, so we said goodbye and she got in a cab. Jay and I, with five suitcases now, waited for an SUV cab and headed to Germantown. Those of you familiar with the area know that on I-270 the Germantown exit is a few miles after the local lanes merge with the express lanes in Gaithersburg. Somehow though, I was not able to convince the driver of that. He wanted to get on the local lanes right where they start in Bethesda. I, on the other hand, wanted him to stay in the HOV lane so we could get home quickly. I guess we reached a compromised, because he stayed in express lanes but didn't use the HOV lane and we crawled back home.
When we reached the house, I was relieved to see it still in one piece. Jay had a craving for Popeye's chicken, so we picked up dinner and then turned in early. By that time, we had been up for about 40 hours. The next morning, I dropped Jay at Reagan National and went home to unpack.
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