I'm up ridiculously early, but that's
no surprise. Not only are we dealing with jet lag, we forgot that the
time had changed while we were away. When you travel, you are aware that it's always a
mixed bag of experiences. Getting home was difficult, but worth the
price of a great trip.
27 hours after waking up in Dubai, we
pulled into our driveway. From the glitz of the Dubai landscape and the barren hot desert only miles from downtown, we arrived to see trees, bent by the weight of heavy snow...16 plus inches of it in our yard. Our
thoughtful children tried to find someone to plow the driveway and it
was our son, in California, who miraculously found a service available to help.
The day started according to plan. We
woke at 4:00 am and arrived at the Dubai airport by 5:20 am. By 6:00
am we were ensconced in the lounge having a light breakfast. Our
flight from Dubai to Istanbul left the gate 20 minutes early. I was
filled with excitement waiting to be dazzled by the Turkish Air Lounge
in Istanbul. I had heard accolades about this spot and my friend had
asked me to bring her tea from their lavish buffet. I was psyched,
thinking I'd have an extra 20 minutes to enjoy the opulence of the
Club.
We were due to arrive early, but alas,
nothing at the airport in Turkey was running smoothly. Our two hour
layover with a bonus 20 minutes, kept dwindling as we circled
endlessly above the patchwork Turkish landscape. Like a whirling
dervish, we spun in the sky, and the only “music” I heard was my own
high anxiety.
With 50 minutes to make our connection,
our plane pulled to a stop on some out-of-the way tarmac. No gate!
We lumbered off the plane, down stairs with warm air and a strong
wind whipping our heart beats into a frenzy. A bus packed with
anxious people brought us to a transfer point. Thank goodness we had
our boarding passes for the second leg of the trip. However, we still needed
to go through a security check point before we could even think about
finding our gate in the massive airport.
Hoards of people surrounded the
departure monitors. We were all suspended in time looking for our
flights...which one among the 50 or so that were posted, was ours?
Luckily, I spot it...Gate 218...all thoughts of the Club are dashed.
No more Turkish Delight or tea for a friend...I need to find the
gate which is somewhere far away beyond the endless maze of duty-free
shops.
“FINAL BOARDING” the sign flashes.
We “dash” (in our heads, it was more like a slow crawl through
the check-in process) to the boarding ramp....thoughts of the
security of sitting in our seats flash through my mind as we “sprint”
(not) toward the plane. A yellow barrier prohibits us from boarding,
confused I see stairs to my right and the horror of it all
crystallizes ...we need to walk down three flights of stairs to
another bus. Barely making it before the doors close, we “speed”
off toward the plane, somewhere on the opposite side of the airport
on a remote tarmac.
You know how elegant Kate Middleton
looks walking up or down the airplane steps when she arrives at an
airport? Not I, as I join 350 + traveling companions all anxious to board the aircraft. I have no softly fluttering skirt as the
wind lashes at me while moving in unison with hundreds of people.
At this point, I know the plane won't
leave without us, but the tension from the “sprint” and the crowd
doesn't dissipate until I am seated and given a delicious glass of
raspberry juice. I may not have the tea bags, but I am
homeward bound.
10.5 hours later, as we fly over Lake
Michigan, I see the Chicago city lights twinkling a warm welcome,
though it's a brisk 23 degrees outside and there's snow everywhere.
No circling this time, just a direct, smooth landing.
I love when things go as they should,
but, oh no, we might have landed on time, however, there is an
unidentified problem getting luggage to the carousel. We wait....and
wait....and wait, until two hours later, our luggage, marked
“priority” are the last two pieces to be expelled from the
chute and the cute beagle looking for illegal fruit being brought
into the country, has long given up on our motley group.
My taxi app was not working, 411 calls
for the phone number for American Taxi yield everything but the
correct cab company. I spotted a cab outside and asked the driver if he's
waiting for a fare. He was, nor did he want to drive 45 minutes
to our house, but he had a change of heart and we piled in.
He deposits the luggage on the icy
driveway and takes off while Harry falls in the snow trying to get to
the door. Thank goodness he didn't lose the key, and like runners in
a tag team race, he passes it to me. Success!
As I open the garage
door, I see Harry standing, but his hands are too frozen to bring the
luggage inside the dry garage. As he thaws, I wield the huge suitcases
inside. Home sweet home!
Our ship is en route to Cape Town
without us. Someone is enjoying the crisp sheets on “our” bed
and the outstanding service from a wonderful, dedicated crew. It was
a delightful journey. I may have been in the Middle East, but
people, literally, from all over the world shared this wonderful adventure with
me. Thank you!
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| The chef on Turkish Airlines |
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| Beyond the glitz of Dubai |
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| Who can find what's missing on this map? |
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| Tea service...very elegant! |
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