January 15, 2014 at 10:11 a.m.
Welcome to my weekly 6.0 minutes of Bermudian reality.
Recently, I took a trip to attend my uncle’s homegoing service.
There was a time when I loved to travel but lately I have become a bit weary of all the hassles we go through just to get from one place to the other.
You spend countless hours going through websites in search of the best-priced ticket.
Expedia, Travelocity and others all claim to give you the best deal depending on what time of the day you book it.
You finally confirm your ticket and then the real work begins.
Firstly, you put in for vacation by negotiating for hours or weeks with your boss and co-workers. Then you spend another week or so making arrangements for someone to watch your kids, house, pets, car, fish, spouse, parents
The big day finally arrives and you head down to the airport. Where, Bingo! you find a line that is so long, anyone would think that this was the last train to heaven. Nevertheless, you muster up some patience and get checked in.
With your boarding pass clutched in your sweaty fist like it was the Golden Ticket, you proceed to US Customs. Where, Bang! yup, you got it — another long line to pre-clear Customs.
There you are asked a list of pointless questions. The temptation is great to give some glib answers:
How long you away for?
Not long enough
How much money are you carrying?
Not much — after all, there’s a recession
Your final destination?
Hopefully, Fantasy Island or front row at a Manchester United game.
After that interrogation, you go upstairs and go buy a few plastic bottles of Gosling’s Black Rum and souvenirs to carry with you. You know how relatives are... always expecting you to bring them something.
The announcement is finally made that your flight is boarding.
In the good ol’ days, it used to be by row. Now it’s by some group A, B, C, D or whatever configuration designed by some well-paid genius.
I always wonder why everyone stands in a long line waiting for their group to be called. The plane won’t leave you behind if you simply sat and waited for them to call your group.
At last you are seated. Unfortunately, you are assigned seat ‘B’ and are stuck between a lady who talks too much and someone who forgot to bathe before flying. Just your luck, the airline does not provide plugs for your ears and nose.
No food, no legroom but at least you get free can of soda.
You finally land and then that all-dreaded announcement by the pilot, “Sorry, folks we have 20 planes in front of us so it will be a while before we get to the gate.”
You now regret drinking that free soda but, due to another pointless rule, you can’t get out of your seat while the plane is on the runway.
Oh, the joys of travelling.
I can’t wait till I can travel like Captain Kirk and say, “Beam me up, Scotty!”
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