As I write this, I’m sitting in seat 38K on a Boeing 747, hurtling at around 640 mph about 38,000 feet up. We’re in Chinese airspace, I believe. Our flight path was an arc, stretching North over the Pacific, through Russia, and down into China. Our destination, Hong Kong, is about 2 ½ hours away. It’s hour 12 of a 14 hour flight. I’ve been up for 28 hours. I don’t believe I’ve slept, though I may have dozed a few minutes here and there. I’ve been making use of the in-flight entertainment system. I’ve watched ’12 Angry Men’ and ‘True Grit,’ as well as a documentary about the recent Gulf Coast Oil Spill, as narrated by Steven Fry. I also listened to the better part of a Michael Brecker album. Breakfast is on in a bit, and I think I’ll be having eggs and turkey sausage.
All that is terribly interesting, I’m sure. Nothing too exciting has happened. I suppose that’s for the best, though. Excitement and plane travel don’t usually mix, and when they do, it’s usually not good.
My final hours on the ground were horrifically frantic. I really haven’t planned very well. I barely got everything I needed done. Harley came through like a champ and helped me store the bed in the garage (not an easy task… pictures later). There were computer problems when I went to the bank, clerical issues at AAA, a faulty ATM at Albertsons, and lots and lots of traffic. I made my final farewells to my family, picked Lehnig up at SDSU, drove to the airport, made my way through security (all went well), and proceed immediately to the bar to calm my nerves.
I’ve been drinking somewhat steadily, but not heavily. I’ve stayed clear of liquor thus far, but it’s long layover in Hong Kong….
The flight to San Francisco was a cakewalk. I could have blinked and missed it. Not to sound like a consumer review, but Virgin America is quite the hip airline, from the lights, to the crew, to even the damn safety briefing (there was funky cartoon of these people demonstrating proper safety techniques in perfectly calm ways… totally unrealistic, of course, but the animation was hip). The jazz selection wasn’t bad, either. I took off to George Shearing playing ‘I’m Through With Love,” then switched to Tony Bennett once we got above the clouds.
Back to the current flight: we just hit a pocket of turbulence. I just chugged my OJ in case it should spill on my laptop.
SFO is huge. Spacious, too. I got off the plane, then sat around for about 10 minutes until I figured out I was in the wrong terminal. I took something called an ‘Airtrain’ and made my way to the International terminal. I found my airlines station, waited in line for a while, then checked in. Then I hit a snag…
Japan doesn’t like foreigners entering their country without a return ticket. I knew this, but I suppose… well, I don’t know what I suppose. It’s just more evidence of poor planning. I feel kind of stupid, actually. However, I talked to someone who works for Cathay Pacific, whose airline I booked for this trip. He said this thing happens every other day. He suggested buying a fully refundable ticket, just so I’d have something to show customs upon entry into Japan. I could cancel the ticket once I’m in Osaka and get my money back. I went ahead and did it, though the ticket was not cheap. I’m a little uneasy about it, but the guy seemed on the level. I’ll feel much better once I get to Osaka and get that money back.
That pretty much brings me up to this moment. I’m tired, weary, hungry, and nervous. I’ll be in Hong Kong in two hours, and Osaka in about eleven. I can’t wait to be in the city, on my way to the hostel. I’m not sure if I’ll want to go anywhere today. I might just get settled in, find some nearby food, and go to sleep before sundown.
Pictures will follow once I arrive and can find a charger. My computer is about to die.
Soupy twist,
Ed
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