Leaving Las Leeds, Part Six

So we were over a hour late taking off which meant that Bubba and Bobbo should have got my bags on the plane, but it didn't look good for making my connection in Charlotte. There was a bit of in-flight entertainment from a fellow passenger. He was in uni and studied some pretty hard applied maths type of thing but was a complete space cadet. He just threw his stuff everywhere, his carry-on bag was a shopping bag that was completely ripped up and then he got into anxiety attacks all the time becuase he couldn't find anything. I didn't think he was really planning too well to prevent his anxiety attacks by having his stuff strewn about the cabin but hey he's not me and for his sake I hope he's some sort of genius because otherwise it just a bit pointless.

Anyway, we got in to Charlotte an hour late which gave me 50 miuntes to get to my next flight. But to make things easier this was my first port of entry into the USA so I have to collect my bags and clear customs with them before re-checking them and getting on the flight to SF. Great. So I got off the plane and through the passport check point in fine time. All that I had to do was pick up my bags get through the customs. So I waited around the carousel ...
A bunch of bags were coming out but not mine ...
Maybe they would bring them through the side door since they were oversized ...
Or maybe not ...
Did I foget to pack my ski googles ...
And then it happened. The lady said all the bags had been unloaded off the plane. but mine weren't there. Nor were a couple of backpacks that a couple other guys were waiting for. Either way it released me to try and catch my connection. I had five minutes. Off I went again, following signs for connecting flights. And then I ended up outside the security check point again. Genius. The guys who designed the airport decided that if you were connecting flights that the security at the first airport was obviusly inadequate (it was probably in some foriegn country that didn't know about security) so they didn't direct you straight along to the gates, they sent you outside the security zone. So three minutes to go, strip off, rubber gloves, bend over, tear apart your bag (carry-on that is) and all the rest of it. I was going to miss my flight. I got through security and checked the departure screen. I was in luck, my flight was delayed an hour. The San Francisco fog had saved me and I was still in business.

Then it dawned on me, as I sat down to wait for the flight to board. My bags hand not made it. They were proabably still stacked up in Gatwick somewhere. What was in those bags? Well a pile of clothes, I need new clothes any way. My snowboarding stuff, ditto its all old and crap and I'm replacing it all this year anyway. Sweetness, oh no, not sweetness. My old school board might be gone. That is an irreplaceable item. You just can't buy another one. Then something else occured to me. I had another irreplaceable item. In my viva my examiners had given me their copies of my thesis which contained all their notes and corrections I needed to do. I wanted to have them in my carry-on but 600 A4 pages of thesis is just a bit too much to carry around so in the bag it went. Now if that has disappeared, well I'm sure I can sort it all out but lets just not think about it. I got on my flight and started the final leg of my journey contemplating my lost bags and what it meant.

So one more flight, how hard could it be. It started off well. The flight was only half full. There was even enough space to escape the howling baby I was seated next to and move to an emergency exit aisle with endless leg room. Bonus. But the fun was short lived. After being initially quiet, the baby decided to start howling. Not the ideal sound track after 16 hours of travelling. But my iPod still had some battery life which helped with that problem. But then it happened. I hardly even noticed it but surely enough a lady just vomited all over the aisle and toilet right in front of me. I wasn't hit by any shrappnel so survived without any collateral damage but the place was a mess. The flight attendents decided to cover it all in newspaper and leave it. Lovely. A fresh pile of vomit stinking up the plane just to settle my stomach. It got to the point where I was jsut tasting the stale saliva in my mouth that you always get before being sick. I couldn't wait to get off the plane but there were a good few hours flight time left. It was a real test of nerve and the howling baby wasn't helping but somehow I got through it all. I got off that plane in a hurry and was so happy to be home and see my parents waiting for me.

A quick trip to the baggage office to make my claim for the bags which never showed up and I was home at last.