Like a fish in an aquarium, Flight 6048 awaits its turn to roll
My itinerary read like an alphabet soup: SFO-CHI-TYS-DTW-AMS-KWI. In plain language, it meant that I was flying from I set my alarm clock to 3:30AM and for good measure told the hotel’s front desk to give me a wake up call. As it turned out, my body clock beat both of them for I was up at 3:15 and I straightaway jumped into the shower to remove whatever cobwebs of drowsiness were left in my brain. The Holiday Inn’s shuttle’s 20-minute late arrival to pick me up was a precursor of things to come. It dropped me off at the American Airlines departure gate at 5:00AM which was just about right since the security people were just beginning to process the herd of travelers that would be going through security checks. I was, as usual, shunted aside for “special screening” which meant that somebody escorted me to a corner for a pat-down, shoes-removed, and fine-toothcomb inspection of myself and my backpack. Not that there was anything of a dangerous nature inside save for a California guidebook, a Dan Brown novel I got for a discount in Pier 39, three DVDs (with my son’s bilin – a Transformers PC game) plus a couple of magazines including the latest Playboy edition. Honest, I bought it because of the Chris Tucker interview whether you believe it or not. I had gotten used to this treatment of being singled out for special inspection. My being a foreigner coming from the AA Flight 1284 was supposed to leave at 0610hrs. but now the departure screen showed that we had a 45-minute delay. That cut down the transit time in Well, the Boeing 737 lifted-off right on the dot of its late departure at 6:55 and we all settled down for the 3-hour journey to We touched down O’Hare on time but the connecting flight to I was becoming antsy since I only had originally a 2-hour window of opportunity to get aboard my next flight. Now it was cut down to one hour. So the moment I got out of the tube, I immediately ran to the nearby Hilton Hotel right beside the airport to collect the small box of material samples for the restaurant I was designing (which I left behind before leaving for Frisco, deciding to come back for it instead of lugging it around cross-country) then dashed back to pick up my luggage from the conveyor belt. Luckily, mine were the first to come out and I made two trips to the upper level to check them all in at the Northwest/KLM counter. Thank goodness, the airport was small and there were no queues so even though I was the last passenger, I got them all in with 15 minutes to spare. Whew! My back was drenched with sweat from physical exertion and stress. But at least, I felt relieved now. Any further delays or missed flights would be the carrier’s fault from hereon because the remaining three legs of the journey were all on the original ticketed return flight. With that thought in mind, I slept all the way to Now the long flight to We all shuffled off to Gate 44 at a quarter past midnight and on to the tube leading to the Airbus 300. This time I had an aisle seat with a cute, young Italian researcher for a seatmate. We got to talking after I helped lift her really heavy bag up on the luggage bin which almost broke my wrist. She was going home to I waved goodbye to Francesca who hurried off to catch her connecting Alitalia flight and went straight to Schiphol’s bustling Duty Free area. I had 4 hours to while away the time and could have opted for the 2-1/2 hour downtown coach tour (they take care of the visa arrangements) offered by the Tourist desk but I had no more money. Besides, I reasoned, I was just here last year so there could be nothing new to see. Good if the Keukenhof gardens were still in bloom but that colorful flower spectacle ended 3 months ago. So after checking out some modern Dutch paintings at the small Rijksmuesum (they do have one at the airport), I opted to catch more ZZZZZs at the Business Class waiting lounge, making use of my KLM’s “Flying Blue” privilege card for the first time. I was just a couple of miles short actually, but they waved me in after probably seeing my sorry countenance. It sure was a great way to relax and best of all, the drinks were free. Two shots of scotch put me in dreamland. When I awoke, I panicked, thinking I had missed my flight! Like an idiot, I remembered setting my watch to Finally, we left at 5:00PM and from my window seat vantage point, was treated to a nice afternoon sun which bathed the flat, Dutch countryside and its myriad canals with an ochre hue. Van Gogh, I’m sure, would have loved it. The six hours were spent watching “Casino Royale” once more (to catch up on missed parts when I dozed off on the earlier leg and to check out beauteous Eva once more) and Sofia Coppola’s “Marie Antoinette” which was quite interesting: modern rock music background fused with the classical tableau of a story. I also finished the The pilot must have made up for lost time or there was a lucky tailwind for we landed in Logging some 22,500 kilometers over ten time zones in 18 long hours, it was a relief to be home in one piece. Late or not.
