#81 - TRAVEL WOES

Right now I should be greeting Mark Pennell at Chicago's O'Hare International Airport. I'm not.

I'm sure my lectures and Tales from the Field blog series have had many of you envious of my world travels. I certainly have been fortunate and I wouldn't trade my travel experiences for anything.

However, the actual traveling part can suck monkey ass. Take it from a guy who flew 31,000 miles alone in February 2015 - airplane travel gets old fast.

Now I have no problem with flying. I definitely have no "fear" and I actually very much enjoy both takeoff and landing. However, I am 6' 2". And a tad claustrophobic. So the thrill wears off quickly. I also am extremely sensitive to motion sickness. Fortunately, it doesn't usually affect me when flying, and I typically take Dramamine as a precaution and, rarely successful, sleep aid. But my ears always get buggered up and I am also sensitive to jet lag. It took me a month to recover from my February circumnavigation of the globe. I was not well at all. The other problem is I can't sleep unless I am in a bed in the dark. I had four 15+ hour flights in February and just tossed and turned and read and wrote.

Of course, the worst part of air travel is delays and cancellations and that brings us back to me not greeting Mark. He's en route back to his house in Bristol right now instead. Therein lies the first story ...

My first text came at about 1:30 a.m., which is 7:30 a.m. in the land of Mark. His KLM flight from Bristol, UK to Amsterdam direct to Chicago had been cancelled. For fuck's sake. KLM booked him on an American Airlines flight. But this flight would leave from Heathrow. That's outside London and about one and a half hour's drive from Bristol. There is no puddle jumper. Mark's wife Kim would have to take him almost to London for his new flight plan. So Mark checked his bag at Heathrow and waited for gate assignment for the AA flight ... and waited ... and, then, CANCELLED. I would be so fucking livid. He was. I don't know why either of these flights were cancelled, but the end result is that all they could offer was to put him up in a hotel overnight that would take a 50 quid taxi ride to get to plus some lame meal voucher. Instead, Kim drove all the way back to Heathrow to collect Mark. She spent her day driving between England's west coast and London and Mark spent his day fuming in an airport and being driven back and forth.

Tomorrow morning he will (hopefully) successfully (please, oh, please) get his new flight from Bristol to Dublin to Chicago. This is the Aer Lingus route that I normally take between here and Bristol. The best part is that there is US Customs in the Dublin airport so you clear there and arrive as a domestic passenger in Chicago. Big time saver.

So today's travel disappointment for Mark (and I, of course, as I am looking forward to chilling with me mate!) leads me to thinking about my own hassles when traveling the many air miles I've flown in the past ten years alone. [And as I typed the last sentence Mark texted me to say he's finally back home in Bristol and crashing to start fresh in the morning].

Lost luggage obviously sucks. When I arrived in Kuala Lumpur, Malaysia in February my back was still stuck in Hong Kong. It didn't make my next flight to Langkawi Island so I spent my first several days during my surprise arrival for Mark's 50th Bday Celebration without my clothes. When you're a large American it is tough to find clothing in a country of small brown people. I had the same thing happen when my family traveled to Ixtapa, Mexico some 20 years ago. Our luggage didn't accompany us and I wandered around trying to find an XL t-shirt that wasn't actually a small. And forget about finding size 12 flip flops. I learned the lesson of dressing for the destination, not the weather you departed from. And I carry travel soap so I can wash clothes in the bathroom sink as I had to do in Langkawi.

Layovers also suck. When you have a 15 hour flight between Dubai and Chicago having a 9 hour layover in Dubai isn't fun even if it is a pretty spectacular modern airport. Arriving in the Kuala Lumpur airport in the wee hours of the morning when it is deserted and having to wait there in the 100 degrees and 200% humidity for six hours is a horrendous experience. Especially when there are creepy guys walking around with rolls of Saran wrap. I had been warned before Sri Lanka about how guys in that part of the world use it as condom during gay sex. The film is found behind trees, as is piles of human excrement. Yes, world travel is glamourous. Cling roll guy actually followed me into a bathroom at KL airport. I'm sure he could tell that I would eviscerate him with my bare hands and was best avoided.

There also is no place like home. I've had amazing experiences in exotic places chasing extraordinary creepy crawlies, but I always look forward to the last day when I am headed back to my own bed. I used to miss my dog so much, but she remains only in my memories. I might not have her pull in the future, but it's always comforting to land back on reality's terra firma.

Take care, MJ