Can you imagine the horror?? I woke up to that headline on the front page of the Vancouver Sun this morning. Over twenty four hours of travelling, and the possibility of not being able to have my lip balm, moisturiser (day, night, hand and eye), no clean or comfortable clothes to get changed into, or several books and magazines to entertain. Plus the likelihood of massive delays thanks to extra security measures put in place after a foiled terror attack. It was all bad news from the day before - lining up for seven hours for a frisking, flights cancelled, not being able to go to the bathroom for the last hour and a half of a flight, computer systems failing and tempers frayed. There were so many things that could have gone wrong, but getting through into the US was remarkably quiet. It still took an hour and there were tears (we'll get to that), but my frisker was very nice, and told me she liked my necklace, so it wasn't too bad. The girls at the check in counter also told me they liked my (new) travel wallet, so that was also ace.
I didn't think it was possible to ban EVERYTHING from coming on board, and the exceptions were "small purses" diaper bags and medical equipment. I wouldn't call my handbag small (nor would I call it a purse, but that's another matter), so I took as much out of my handbag as possible, compartmentalised everything in smaller bags, and thought I'd just be charming to get it through. So far so good. Then as we approached the entry to the security screening, the pre-security security man told me my bag was too big and I'd have to check it in. Bap bow. I could see he wasn't a proper immigration person (who you don't argue with), so I pled my case - we are flying to Australia after flying to LA, my bag isn't really that big, it just looks it - "see, if I hold it like this, and you see what's in here it's really very small". Fail. I was already feeling fragile and emotional after just saying bye to my parents and then a lady with a clearly bigger bag than me got through - WTF??? So I pointed this out to him and he was all "she is travelling with an infant". Whatever. So I asked him how big my bag could be and he was just all "yours is too big", there wasn't even a guideline, it was just his arbitrary decision with no avenue of appeal. Talk about injustice.
So, getting teary, we walked back to check it in, and I dumped everything out on a chair to see what I could fit in a smaller cotton bag I had. One of the baggage staff saw I was upset and came over and suggested folding up my bag and sticking it in the smaller bag - brilliant. It totally worked. Everything compressed very nicely, but then the same asshole was all "did you just put your other bag in this one" and then I got all annoyed being all "you told me I had to check it so I just did, are you kidding me?" so then he left me alone and let me through. Ah ha. I won. So once I cleared the security check and finished muttering about security wankers, the handbag came back out and the goods were reconverted, and all was well in the world again.
I'm now sitting in the Qantas lounge, having stuffed myself with noodles and just had a long hot shower. We have five or so hours to kill here, and I think we only have like two more to go. But there are only so many times you can get up to see if they have changed the food, and there is only so much soda water a girl can drink. Sigh. We got an upgrade on the way over - excellent, but have been denied that luxury on the way home. I'm sure it's nothing sleeping pills and booze can't get me through though.
No comments:
Post a Comment