Thursday 23 August 2007

At the airport, wish you were here.

I spent the entire flight from Jo’berg to Sau Paulo worrying about missing my connection (partly to avoid having to watch Spiderman 3 again). I had 40 minutes to catch my plane to Santiago, Chile, with a completely different airline, and I was constantly thinking about how late we’d left, how much the wind would slow us up, whether the original ETA was still accurate, whether that included taxi-ing, how long it would take me to get off from the back of the plane and what I was supposed to do before being able to get on the next flight. In the back of a small notebook in my bag I found all the Portuguese phrases I had written down when Adam and I got stuck in Brazil due to a gone-bust airline and thought we’d have to spend the night at the airport last summer. Instead we got flown first class to Frankfurt (reassuringly in-Europe) but I wasn’t planning on relying on such good luck again. I disembarked with five minutes until my flight was supposed to leave with no idea whether I had the slightest chance of being on it; I rushed anyway. I arrived at the gate far quicker than I had expected/feared. Some people looked at my e-ticket and nodded and talked in Portuguese. I got handed over to a helpful looking man. It was 16.30 – the exact time my flight was supposed to leave and I was standing in front of the gate. “Ah,” said the man looking at the print-out, “you’re supposed to be on this flight!”. Yes, I nodded, that was the problem. Typing things into his computer he commented that it was too late, the doors had closed. I resisted the temptation to go to the window and watch my plane leave in a tragic-looking way. The man handed me something – it was a boarding pass. He’d put me on the next flight in two hours. Oh! Well that was ok then! I was so relieved I forgot to ask what would happen to my luggage. I waited for the next flight at the suspiciously familiar-looking departure lounge (where over 12 months before I had emerged from the toilet to hear a mangled version of my name on the tannoy and then failed to understand why they were changing our boarding cards) and decided that Sau Paulo airport was more fun when Adam was there.

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