Charles Apple

SUNDAY, 2 P.M. EDT

Kris and I had talked about staying up rather than trying to get some sleep and then wake up in time to leave for the airport. We wussed out, however. I got maybe four hours’ sleep before my travel alarm did its thing at 2 a.m.

By 3 a.m., we both had checked out of our rooms, settled our accounts and were in a hotel car on the way to the airport. We marveled over the fact that Manila is still full of life at that time of the morning. The little restaurants were wrapping up for the night, cleaning tables while the bands packed up their instruments. Scores of children chased each other around the lights along Roxas Blvd. while adults chatted and waited for cabs and jeepneys.

It was hard to believe this adventure was over already. And it was disappointing that we each had ahead of us nearly a full day trapped in an airplane.

Aquino airport had been a mess the previous week. I was expecting the worst, but it really wasn’t too bad this time. There was a delay getting our bags checked — mostly because Northwest Airlines didn’t open its check-in booths until 4 a.m. Kris and I found a small deli in the concourse, where we bought sandwiches and Diet Cokes with our last few pesos.

We couldn’t believe the number of security checkpoints we passed through. There was a quick screen in the airport driveway, where guards checked the trunk and under the car with a mirror. When we walked in the front door, we passed through a metal detector and had our luggage scanned. We checked our bags, after which they were presumably scanned again.

Then, we went through immigration, where we paid our departure tax — 750 pesos, or just over $16 — and went through another scanner. I was asked to remove my shoes and my belt. Just my luck: I behave all week, only to nearly show my ass at the airport. Literally.

After we ate breakfast, we walked out to the gate area, only to find another security checkpoint. Again, I removed my shoes and my belt.

Kris and I watched the sun rise as we waited to board the 747-400 for Nagoya, Japan. She sat five rows ahead of me, also in the right-side window seat. As crammed as I felt into the tiny little seat, Kris was worse off: She shared her row with parents who each carried a small child on their laps. She seemed upbeat afterwards, though, handling the situation with a lot more grace than I would have.

Although we were staying with Flight 72 all the way to Detroit, they made us deplane in Nagoya, pass through yet another security checkpoint and then reboard. I’m not sure I understand why that was a good idea.

It gave us a chance to stretch our legs after nearly five hours in the air. Plus, we found a duty-free area where we picked up a few final souvenirs of our trip. I avoided the high-class fashion and perfume stores and patronized the Hello Kitty candy shop instead.

Again, Kris and I split up. I tried to get as much sleep as I could — which wasn’t much. Maybe two hours into the trip, all the overhead reading lights in our section of the plane flashed on. None of the off switches worked. I watched two of the three in-flight movies and I dozed fitfully.

By the time we arrived in Detroit, I was exhausted and badly dehydrated. Claiming our luggage took some time, but it wasn’t really that difficult. Customs was a breeze. As I searched for a place to put my shoes back on following yet another security check, Kris checked the departure board. She announced my flight to Norfolk was delayed but hers to Dulles was not. I bid goodbye to the world’s best traveling companion. With Kris gone, who will I follow around like a puppy dog?

What I needed was water, and plenty of it. The waitress at Chili’s laughed when I ordered two glasses of ice water and a glass of Diet Coke. Oh, and some food. One hour, a phone call home and several beverages later, I felt much better.

I thought about buying a Sunday paper, but I was afraid the sheer weight of it might keep the plane from taking off. Note to Dorsey: Damn, dude, could you make that Sunday book any bigger?

As I type this, I’m sitting here at gate A55, across from a nice lady holding a cute Yorkie terrier. Sitting to my left is a young woman blabbing all sorts of intensely personal secrets into her cell phone.

I miss the international flights already.

We’ll be at least an hour late getting into Norfolk this afternoon. Dammit. I want to go home.

—

SUNDAY, 7:30 P.M. EDT

I’m home! Finally!

Our flight took forever to leave Detroit. Even when they finally loaded us passengers, we sat at the gate for a long time. The reason: They didn’t have a first officer for the cockpit. At least they didn’t ask for volunteers.

I dozed off several times during the wait and the flight. Once I got on the ground in Norfolk, I felt much better. Sharon met me in the terminal, leaving Elizabeth at home to start dinner for us. Instead of unpacking, I thought I’d post my final blog entry for this trip.

Thanks for reading!

Share on Facebook

This entry was posted on Sunday, April 1st, 2007 at 6:28 pm and is filed under Workshops, News design, Charles Apple, Newspapers, VizEds Blog. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.