For the third time in sixteen hours, we’ve just gone through the exhilirating oompf of being in a cruise ship that suddenly takes to the air.
Somehow, because of the disruptions caused by the recent quakes, the second leg of our journey was changed to stop over in Buenos Ares before heading to Santiago.
This allowed us to get our first taste of summer, and my first steps on this side of the equator and on South American soil.
Our Buenos Ares experience was limited to walking from gate 3, to the security checkpoint at gate 10, through a metal detector and then back to gate 3. A rather pointless excercise but at least we got a taste of that “good air” the city was named for, which is at least as humid as it is bueno.
But I’m getting ahead of myself, as we almost didn’t make it here at all.
Our flight to Toronto was uneventful, though we were both starting to get excited, beginning to realize that we were finally on our way.
In Toronto, we had over an hour to kill before our flight. After walking around and stocking up on supplies, L suggested that I step out for a last nicotine break before the long flight. We could see the exit nearby, and I was reassured by the guard at the exit that I would be able to return through the security checkpoint next to the Tim Horton’s where L would be waiting.
After feeding my addiction, I was intercepted at the checkpoint by six security guards. “Boarding pass, please”. No problem, I made sure I had it before exiting. “Sir, this is for an international flight, you’ll have to enter by the gate over by blahblahblah”. Oh boy.
I asked them to simply let my talk with L, they could see her over by the restaurant though I could not. I pleaded with them to go get her, as I was in possession of both bording passes. “Sorry, but we can’t leave our post sir”. And even once I was in, they explained, it would be impossible for me to return to our meeting place. To simplify my re-entry, L had my carryon, my phone, my passport. I had her boarding pass. If we couldn’t meetup soon, we were both doomed. Aaagh!
Then began the race. I got through the international security check, and had to run what must have been a full kilometer in a section of the airport that looked completely shutdown, to get to the Air Canada desk in hopes that they might be able to contact L.
Breathless and freaking out because there were about 20 minutes left before departure, I reached the help desk where I gaspingly explained the situation. “Oh dear”. Yes, oh dear. I was impressed and touched by their response, as they worked phones and radios to page L, get a fix on her location and print out another boarding pass they she’d be able to use.
Time was passing, I was sweating bullets with nothing to do but wait. On her side, L was speaking with security when she heard the page. Because she’d be located, but was far from having made the long march to the international gates, the flight which was scheduled to leave in 6 was contacted. “We’ve found the passenger, she is on her way but they had to go through security checkpoint 2 as the first is now closed”. More delay, but the help desk staff was doing their best to keep the plane from closing the doors without us.
I finally saw L in the distance, running alongside a stewardess who was guiding her to gate 173. “Run, like you’ve never run before”, the stewardess encouraged. I met them and feed L from the burden of my hefty carry-on. We sprinted to the gate, people with radios pointing the way, coordinating and reporting on our efforts.
When we arrived at the gate, a clerk gave us a stern look and a surmon: we’d delayed hundreds, cost Air Canada thousands. I felt terrible, L was shaken and pissed off. We huffed and puffed our way to our seats, which had been given to others as we were obviously not going to be a part of this flight.
Well, we did make it. Here is the view as I type: we’re flying over the Andes and it’s a hell of a sight. Signing off for now…
