Last Day: Typical Travelers Tales
The rest of the day was almost comically typical. I had a SuperShuttle pick me up at the Fraureishaus so I didn’t have to woalk with my backpack back to the Square. The shuttle was actually early. Whoa.
It took me a while to find the proper counter in the airport, and then waited ona short but painfully slow line to check in. Air New Zealand only allows 17K (I think) for carry-on luggage, so I had to do some creative rearranging, including putting on all of my sweaters in order for my bag to ‘make weight.’ I’ve had my checked luggage lost (and luckily found, although once after my trip had ended) three times now, so now I *HATE* checking luggage. I’m willing to do anything — ANYTHING! — not to. (OK, almost anything…)
When we landed in Auckland, I noticed that the boarding time printed on my onward ticket to SF was… NOW. Reaction? “Oh, Shit!” The guy sitting next to me was also catching the same flight, and luckily he helped me navigate the small but sprawling airport to the next terminal — he’d done the walk several times before, but I doubt I would’ve found it without him, as we were supposed to “follow the blue line” which faded, disappeared, and reappeared at various intervals.
By the time I had to go through security (again!) I was nervous, rushed, and sweaty. Finally, I made it onto the cabin and was lucky enough to get some of the last storage space for my backpack.
As I walked towad my seat, however, I noticed two children in what appeared to be the seats next to mine, for the second “Oh, shit!” moment of the day. The blonde mom was across the aisle, and my window seat was empty. She stood as I approached, and I knew what was next.
As a frequent single traveler, i am asked to give up my seat ALL THE TIME so parents can sit next to their kids. i once gave up my window seat and suffered through 6 hours in the middle so a dad could sit with his 12-year-old child (he neglected to mention her age when he asked me to switch) who clearly hated him. Nice.
This time, we had 13 hours of flying time, I paid a HUGE amount of money for the ticket. There was NO WAY I was giving up my window seat. I explained this as politely as I could — I’m usually a bit of a pushover, and asserting myself in this situation was actually pretty hard. I felt bad, and offered to ask around for someone else who might be willing to take her aisle seat and give me their window, but she insisted I not do that — “I don’t want to make any more trouble.” OK, trouble for me, but no one else?
She commented several times on being “SHOCKED” that I wouldn’t switch, and made several comments to the kids that were clearly designed to get me to want to take the aisle seat. “Oh, you’ll have to keep your feet out of the lady’s lap!” “Son, will you be able to sleep with daughter in your lap?” “Now, try to be quiet…” etc. Why she couldn’t take the middle seat to be next to younger daughter, and have video-game-playing son take the aisle seat was a bit of a mystery to me.
Interestingly, after I put my ipod on and refused to fall for any of her BS, that is exactly what she did. So now I had to spend 13 hours next to someone who hated me. Great. But, once she got over being “shocked” and accepted her middle-seat fate, she was actually quite nice. The 7 or 8-year-old son was fine across the aisle, and the daughter cuddled next to her. We chatted breifly before I put my headphones back on, and the bad air seemed relatively clear. Phew!
Air NZ has comfy seats and great entertainment — hundreds of choices of TV, movies, comedy, music, etc — although the user interface is a bit klugey. I had my first shepard’s pie ever, which was actually quite delicious (and airline food no less!) By hour #3 or 4, thogh, I was still bored, despite the great selection of video entertainment, cheesy magazines, and music, and it was hard to sleep. Periodically there was bad turbulance, which had me once again praying, writing goodbye notes in my journal, and trying to calmly breathe in, breathe out, breathe in, breathe out… I hate turbulance!
Finally some sleep, a good breakfast, a long wait for the small bag I’d reluctantly checked (I was SURE it was lost, but it was just one of the last pieces out), a slow ride on the SuperShuttle, and, finally, that shell-shocked feeling of being back “home.”
A fabulous trip.
It went much too quickly.
June 20th, 2007 at 11:54 am
Ahh–airline stories–nuthin’ like ‘em!