My journey from Athens to good ol' Grants Pass did not amount to a simple, quick jaunt over the pond . . . it was endless. My "day" (actually a 36 hours of continuous travel) started at 3:10 AM in my luscious warm bed in Athens in order to catch the cab that Maura, Tyler, and I. I awoke with a start, having only managed to obtain two hours of sleep due to packing the night before. Groggily dragging myself out the door, lugging my bulging suitcase behind me, I cast a bittersweet last look at the apartment that had been home for the summer of a lifetime. Closing the door, and going down the sketchy elevator one last time squeezed my heart with bands of sadness. Climbing into the taxi with our cheery cabbie (there is something wrong with people that happy at such ungodly hours), we set of for the airport.
I should have realized that the trip would not proceed as seamlessly as I would have preferred when, as I checked in with front desk, he told me I was checked through to San Francisco. An half an hour of debate, three phone calls, and barrage of questions later, I was finally booked through to Medford. After checking through security, I found my gate, waited for about an hour with Maura, a then boarded the flight to Zurich. Two hours later, I landed, proceeded to the next flight, and arrived in Philadelphia. At least this part of the trip was tolerable, though all feeling in my neck and gluteus maximus was nil at that point.
In Philadelphia, I cleared the passport check, customs, and security without incident, waited my allotted layover, and boarded my plane to San Francisco. Once again, no incident . . . that is, until I landed. I already knew I was to have a four hour layover for my 11 PM departure to Medford--that came as no surprise. To pass the time, I simply watched a few movies (including Cheaper by the Dozen 2--I was getting pretty desperate). In between movie selections, I checked the departure board for gate changes. My gate was "changed," though after a few inquiries, I found that this was a mistake. After a do-si-do with the gates, I settled back down in my original seat with an overpriced BLT (named the "Haight") purchased at a nearby deli at approximately 9 PM west coast time.
At 10:30, an announcement came over the loudspeaker. Our inbound aircraft was stuck in Sacramento due to ill weather conditions. Our departure was delayed to 11:40. Ten minutes, later, the voice rang out the departure would now be at 12:10 AM and the gate had been changed: to one in another terminal. I along with thirty other passengers, gathered our things and marched down to the transfer shuttle. Ten minutes later we arrived at the new gate with the new departure time of 12: 40 AM. This departure time ended up being the correct one and we took off for Oregon in a timely fashion, landing at 2:20 AM. I landed and was greeted by the loving embraces of my loving parents. After collecting my luggage, we started the 45 minute drive home. I finally collapsed into my very own bed at 3:30 AM--36 hours from the start of my journey.
I should have realized that the trip would not proceed as seamlessly as I would have preferred when, as I checked in with front desk, he told me I was checked through to San Francisco. An half an hour of debate, three phone calls, and barrage of questions later, I was finally booked through to Medford. After checking through security, I found my gate, waited for about an hour with Maura, a then boarded the flight to Zurich. Two hours later, I landed, proceeded to the next flight, and arrived in Philadelphia. At least this part of the trip was tolerable, though all feeling in my neck and gluteus maximus was nil at that point.
In Philadelphia, I cleared the passport check, customs, and security without incident, waited my allotted layover, and boarded my plane to San Francisco. Once again, no incident . . . that is, until I landed. I already knew I was to have a four hour layover for my 11 PM departure to Medford--that came as no surprise. To pass the time, I simply watched a few movies (including Cheaper by the Dozen 2--I was getting pretty desperate). In between movie selections, I checked the departure board for gate changes. My gate was "changed," though after a few inquiries, I found that this was a mistake. After a do-si-do with the gates, I settled back down in my original seat with an overpriced BLT (named the "Haight") purchased at a nearby deli at approximately 9 PM west coast time.
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| It was then that I checked Facebook, and saw this status. I wished that I could say the same. |
At 10:30, an announcement came over the loudspeaker. Our inbound aircraft was stuck in Sacramento due to ill weather conditions. Our departure was delayed to 11:40. Ten minutes, later, the voice rang out the departure would now be at 12:10 AM and the gate had been changed: to one in another terminal. I along with thirty other passengers, gathered our things and marched down to the transfer shuttle. Ten minutes later we arrived at the new gate with the new departure time of 12: 40 AM. This departure time ended up being the correct one and we took off for Oregon in a timely fashion, landing at 2:20 AM. I landed and was greeted by the loving embraces of my loving parents. After collecting my luggage, we started the 45 minute drive home. I finally collapsed into my very own bed at 3:30 AM--36 hours from the start of my journey.
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