What worried me was the fact that, in doing so, waiting for the mail ran the risk of arriving after my parents at the airport. The day before, I made arrangements so that I would drive directly to the airport, my dad would drive my car, and my mom would drive their car home. Those of you who know me well, needless to say, my parents are the type to become easily frustrated when they have to wait. (Where do you think I got it from?)
Finally, the mailwoman approaches the house, but to my dismay, no package in hand. My questioning of her package-less satchel somehow drew me into one of those uncomfortable-yet-friendly chit-chats about nothing important. Time ticked by. I think it was finally when the conversation with her hit full circle that I saw a polite way out. So into the house I went, said my goodbye to Ryan, and off to the airport I dashed.
On the way, I received a call from my parents, telling me at which terminal and gate to meet them. Terminal E was the destination, which was conveniently the first stop for me! Lots of good wishes were sent, and they hoped I would keep in touch as much as possible. Well duh! Anyway, in addition to leaving my car with them, I also decided to leave my phone with them also. Number one, it won’t even work there, and number two, it’s something I would rather not lose. Good call or bad call? Just wait...
My parents have been terrifically kind to me. I am extremely appreciative of how much they have helped me through the difficult process of preparing for this trip. They have been constantly reminding me of things that I need to do. They know that I forget things, and no matter how much I told them to stop nagging me, they didn’t stop. But the single biggest and most kind thing they have done was provide me with the gift of using the miles or points accumulated on their credit card. This would allow me to essentially fly for free over to Helsinki. I knew that this was something I absolutely could not screw up, otherwise I’d pay severely for it. The day before I left, I made sure to print 3 copies of my itinerary from NWA.com and e-ticket receipt. Just under 24 hours before departure, I also checked myself in.
But I suppose I forgot to take into consideration Murphy ’s Law, which states that what can go wrong, will.
I walked briskly up the stairs, carrying alongside me 80 lbs of luggage, give or take a few. I approached the NWA self check-in kiosk, and had to wait around for 5 minutes to be told that I needed to talk to someone behind the desk. So I hand them my receipt printout and passport. Suddenly, without hesitation, they gave me a strange look. I am told that I was at the wrong terminal! SkyTeam? What the hell is that? I needed to go to KLM. KLM?? Is that part of a flight number? Is it a gate? WTF?? I did understand that I needed to go to gate D15.
A very kind lady rushed me out of the building and pointed me to a shuttle, which took me over to terminal D. She also said she would try to get on the phone and convince them to let me on. It was then I found out that check-in times for domestic flights were 30 minutes prior to takeoff, but international flights were 60 minutes.
Oh shit.
A short 3 minute wait and I was already on the road, but I swore that the shuttle driver was going 20 under the speed limit the entire way, argh!! STOMP ON IT, PLEASE, I thought. After taking several deep breaths, I regained my composure. I felt like this would be no problem at all. After all, airline companies are always accommodating, right?
Pfffft, yeah right, what was I thinking?
I was finally let off at the first stop at Terminal D. I start on my way to the entrance, and scan ahead about 200 feet and see the entrance. I also noticed that the bus driver made another stop right by the frigging door.
Sigh.
I run in, and walk around the big lobby space, frantically searching for NWA. I noticed an American Airlines shirt on a black lady and asked her where NWA was. She told me Terminal B, and clearly had no idea what I was talking about, so I walked away. AHH YES, I found the NWA desks at the very end of the hall, but they were completely deserted. I tried the self check-in kiosks again, and again I was told to see a clerk. I walked over to another airline's check-in desk, told them where I was going. There were no such flights directly to Helsinki, but there was to Amsterdam (my first leg), via KLM airlines, which was the very last desk adjoining the NWA SkyTeam.
AHHH, things were starting to make sense now! I felt like such an idiot. But things were about to go from bad to worse...
There was only one person checking in and two people standing at the desk. From the sounds of it, they were trying to find another flight to Amsterdam. I couldn’t help it, I had less than 30 minutes before my flight was going to leave, therefore in my anxiety I forced myself into the conversation. I was promptly told that there was no way for me to get on the flight, they would simply refuse my baggage because it was too late.
F***.
OHHHH F***.
OHHHHHHHHHHHHHH F***.
I was overwhelmed with speculative thoughts on all of my plans crashing. It was a horrible feeling. I was STILL waiting for the two in front of me to decide what to do. So, in my frustration, I walked away. I walked outside and realized that I had no way of getting back home. Not even a way to call someone.
That was when it hit me. In all of my self-loathing, I completely forgot that I had already “checked in” online. That’s when I started asking myself, “what if?” What if I just got on the plane and didn’t worry about my suitcase? Not a good idea. What if I shipped my suitcase separately? I immediately went up to the counter, interrupted the conversation, and started asking these questions. The clerk stared at me, he was clearly frustrated too. All of his answers to my questions pointed toward the same conclusion—I simply would not have enough time. Then, in a moment of enlightenment, I stated the following scenario, “So let’s say you let me on the plane, and even check my suitcase too. And let’s also say that my suitcase is turned down from being loaded onto the plane. What happens then?” He replied, saying that my suitcase would get thrown on the next flight to my final destination, which would likely be the next day.
Bingo! Almost in unison, the other two customers and I exclaimed “LET’S DO THAT!”
The clerk checked their baggage and printed their boarding passes. I tried to wait patiently, but I had less than 20 minutes before takeoff and the security checkpoint was highly congested. I was a bit antsy. Ok, I was more than antsy, but at least I was confident that I would be getting on the plane. Finally, the clerk got to me, printed my boarding pass, and allowed me to leave early so I could get into the security line.
I got to the line and stood at the end for 2 minutes without it moving an inch. A short, round, bearded man called out to the end of the line a notice that only a short walk away was an uncongested checkpoint. Without hesitation, I bolted.
He was right, the line was almost non-existent. As soon as I got to the line, I wiped the sweat from my brow, bent over and caught my breath.
“Hey dude!” I heard. I felt a tap on my shoulder. “You’re gonna need this,” said the clerk that checked me in. He chased me down to give me my luggage receipt. In between my deep breaths, I quickly thanked him. I also made sure to shake hands with him. It was the only way I could show the magnitude of my appreciation.
The security checkpoint caused me no problems, which was quite shocking. But, I was still 10 gates away, so I hurried. I didn’t have time to put my belt or shoes on. I didn’t even take the time to put my passport or boarding pass in my pocket. I couldn’t count how many times I dropped something; I was too focused on finding D15.
It felt like miles away.
Finally, it was in sight. I reached the counter, handed over my passport and boarding pass, bent over, and put my shoes on. “MR. SCHMIDT, WE WERE WAITING FOR YOU! PLEASE COME IN!” one of the ladies happily exclaimed. How comforting! Just as I was about to about to enter the boarding tunnel, I was stopped by a man in a uniform that said Homeland Security on his chest. Behind him were 6 or 7 other uniformed men.
Uhhh… what?
The man who stopped me asked me some customs questions. Then he escorted me to the other side of the wall of uniformed men. They were apparently questioning the passage of a Middle Eastern looking man. I was in too much of a hurry to listen in. At last, I was on the plane! After dropping my belongings at least 3 times in an attempt to stow my carry-on luggage, I found my seat, cooled off, and was ready for takeoff. However, it took at least 30 more minutes before the plane left. Turns out they denied passage to the Middle Eastern guy and had to remove his belongings from the plane.
It wasn’t till Amsterdam did I find out that in those 30 minutes, my suitcase actually made it on the plane! Thank you, would-be terrorist! (Wow, that sounds terrible…)
I watched 2 movies on the plane: “Jumper” (only because I am a big Hiro fan) and “No Country for Old Men.” Neither movie had a clear resolution. I was kind of disappointed in both. Oh well. The movie player had some games built in. I played with those for a bit. Got bored. Tried to nap. No luck. There was darkness for only a very short period of time. The plane was flying against the night current, therefore shortening it. By the time I was tired, it was once again bright outside and they turned the cabin lights back on.
The airplane food was actually pretty good. Filling too. I asked for beer as a refreshment, and they served Heineken. It was free!
By the time I made it to Helsinki, it was 2:00 pm or thereabout local time. To my body though, it was 4:00 am. By that time, I had been awake for 20 hours. I think I nodded off a few times on the bus from the airport to the train station. When I got to the train station, I sought a place called Hotel Booking, so I could find a place to stay for the evening.
Apparently, all of Helsinki is booked during this time of year. Yes, that is both hostels and hotels. I was extreeemely lucky that they found me a place for 30 euros (plus 6 euro booking fee) for a single bed in a private room. I dragged all of my belongings across town in search of it.
This city is pretty alive! There were pedestrians all over the place! It is astoundingly different than city life in the states, particularly Texas. Although I haven’t been to New York or Manhattan, I would imagine that this is very similar, minus the skyscrapers. One thing I didn’t understand was how people were dressed. Summer time is upon them, I was extremely comfortable in a t-shirt and jeans. But everyone I saw was wearing several layers, including jackets, sweatshirts, long sleeves, scarves, and what not. My guess was that they just don’t have summer clothing because it never really gets hot here.
Once I secured my belongings in the hostel room. I set out to find a coffee shop in order to get some internet lovin’. In my search, I wandered into a department store called Ykkonen. The furniture there was really nice. Very clean and modern. On the ground floor, I noticed they had some orchids. They reminded me of my mom, so I took a picture for her:
In order to help me fight the jet lag, I figured I would try to stay up as late as possible in local time. I found a nice coffee shop called Wayne’s coffee and ordered a café latte with an extra shot. They have free Wi-Fi, so I think that’s where I will go to connect for now. It is right across the street from a bar called Texas… hahaha! I decided that I HAD to go check it out. I drank a beer, which cost 5 euros, but it was tiny. It was a Finnish white lager, which reminded me of a Heineken Light. It had no head, but it was refreshing. There, I got to meet some Finnish girls. They helped me find some hostels which I will go look at tomorrow. Here I learned that it doesn’t snow much in the city. Therefore, the climate must be moderated by the sea. I was warned though that it does rain a lot in Helsinki.
I walked back to the hostel, grabbed my travel adapter for my laptop, and headed back to the coffee shop. This time, however, I decided I would take a different route, for the sake of exploration. I saw some very classical style architecture. My route led me astray. And little did I know, without looking at watch, it was already 9:30 pm and businesses were already closed. In particular, Wayne’s Coffee closed. But how was this possible? It was still light outside!! What a strange feeling! The city was still lit, but it was almost a ghost town.
It was around this time I began to understand why people wear multiple layers of clothing even in the summer. When the sun goes down, the temperature drops rapidly. Moreover, the breezes between the densely packed buildings magnify the effect.
I thought to myself, I definitely don’t want to be outside when it’s dark! And thus, I retired for the evening. What a long fricking day! Even when I fell asleep, there was still a hint of light in the sky.
1 comment:
Wow, what an experience you had at the DFW airport. Maybe next time you'll prepare yourself a little better.
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