Entitled: Seamus and Rachael nearly miss their flight

After picking up my passport from the courier depot where it had been dropped, visa now securely in place, on the morning of my flight, I happily toddled off  to Christchurch airport, to board a flight to Auckland, and then on to LAX, and eventually Washington D.C. Little did I suspect my entire journey would nearly be derailed by a sour Air New Zealand employee who informed me with pursed lips that my visa expired 2 days before my return flight, and she therefore wouldn’t let me check in. Bugger. After a wee bit of a wild goose chase in very short time, care of the charming, now my all time favourite, Air New Zealand employee (may her soul rot somewhere deep and dank), I finally got on the phone to my travel agent thanks to the calm and collected calling of a friend, as I had a minor panic attack. Many deep breaths later, the travel agent informs me that she can change the flights (for $200, fuck) while I’m in the air to Auckland. Except now I have to pick up my bags, and check back in, in a very tight time gap. After grabbing my bags in record time, Seamus and I dash to a taxi, only to be informed it’s going to be $40 just to be dropped the 500 m journey to international. My Kiwi tight-ass Scottish roots kicked in. We would run. And run we did. About half way before my lack of fitness kicked in. So we would walk. And walk we did. Quickly.

We got there, flustered as all hell, dripping in sweat, smelling something awful before we even got on the plane, and checked in 2 minutes before check-in closed. Now, a slightly more pleasant employee informs me with a smile she must reserve for the most freaked out looking customers, I had to stand in a large queue for a new itinerary. Checked in, but still very conscious of time, my stress levels were through the roof.  Finally, with itinerary printed, it was time to hit customs. Naturally, in the spirit of the evening, my e-passport then refused to work. I beeped going through security and got wanded. Seamus and I, somehow, were now not sitting together. But Godammit, I got on the plane.  An aisle seat right next to the toilets. Someone, for the love of God, hand me a gin.

This update comes to via the most marvellous invention I’ve so far encountered in the States, wifi on domestic flights. Alaska Airlines to D.C have so far been kind; after a mad dash across the roads of LAX, we made it onto out 4 and a half hour connecting flight, while cursing the travel agent for their ambitious time goals. I have a Starbucks in hand, and somewhere deep below is Kansas. We’re getting there. Included, for your entertainment, is a photo of us around the 15 hour flight (warning, not pretty, extreme tiredness included). Next stop, Homewood Suites, Washington D.C, home for the next few weeks!