Back to the Tropics, Day IX

  (contd.)

Day IX

There and Back Again

 

One, last sunrise over the pool (and lake. . . but who honestly gives a shit about the lake at this point in time.)

We started organizing our luggage the night before - doing multiple loads of laundry, wrapping the more fragile souvenirs (like Abby's manta statue from Discovery Cove, my Vader bust, etc.) in laundry and packing them in my carry-on, crap like that - and spent most of the morning doing walk-throughs of the condo, making sure we weren't leaving anything behind (mission accomplished there.)

We were lucky enough to have an afternoon flight back to Detroit, so we were able to sleep in a bit this morning.  We Houghs are a lazy lot, and we were 100% cool with the way this worked out.

By about 10am we were out of the condo for the last time and ready to get the hell out of dodge. . .

After going through the whole drop-off procedures for the Turo car - which took us a little more time than we thought it would (Kris had somewhat of a learning curve with the whole process, we'll just leave it at that) - we took a roundabout way to the Delta terminal to check in for our flight (we had to drop off the car in Terminal A, but our flight was departing from the usual Terminal B - total pain in the ass.)

Patiently waiting for her mom to check her flight information.

Arriving in Terminal B, an hour behind schedule. . .

Kris checks in our three suitcases - no issues whatsoever with this part.

Here's where things get f***y.  We arrived in front of the TSA Security Check Point with an hour and a half to spare before our flight departed - more than enough time one would think to get to our departure gate, right?  Well, we had breezed through the Detroit Metro Airport TSA in less than 10 minutes, surely the Orlando airport would be just as efficient, right?  Well, we felt like we had plenty of time to check out the last-minute Disney, Universal, and Sea World gift shops before going through the TSA line.  So much so, in fact, that we spent about 30 minutes perusing the stores before finally getting in line.

This was, hands-down, the single dumbest thing we did all vacation.  We failed to factor in the fact that, unlike the Detroit airport, Orlando's airport has a much higher volume of international travelers (due to Orlando's huge tourism industry) and, as such, the security lines would move much, MUCH slower.  We were stuck behind a group of about a dozen (what I can only assume were) Mongols, and no one knew what the hell they were doing or going.  The TSA team was horribly under-staffed, and they only had one detector operating.  As such, as we slowly - ever-so-slowly - progressing through the line, watching the time fly by.  Pretty soon we realized - to our horror - that we only had twenty minutes to get to our flight before departure.

We finally cleared security with a mere ten minutes to spare.  We had to run to the tram station, but were lucky enough to run straight on to a tram (no waiting involved, thank God.)

Severe panic was setting in by this point - we only had a handful of minutes to spring from the tram to our departure gate, as our flight was wrapping up boarding by this point in time and preparing to take off.  If you've ever seen the Home Alone movies - where an entire family takes off at a dead sprint through the airport, screaming at each other the whole way towards their gate, that was the Houghs this afternoon.  Definitely not our finest moment as a family, but not our worst either.

We were the LAST people onto the plane, and we got there just as they were announcing our name throughout the Delta gates.  The attendants were shaking their head as we hastily handed over our boarding passes and took off down the ramp towards the plane.  The looks we got from the passengers (especially in First Class) already seated in the plane said it all:  this family is a hot f***ing mess.  But we made it, and we managed to fly all the way back to Michigan without incident.  Kris' Uncle Wayne picked us up in Kris' van, and we made eventually drove it all the way back home to Midland without any other hiccups.  Kind of a stressful, panicky ending to an otherwise perfect trip, but I suppose you can't have a true adventure without some sort of inconvenience rightly considered.  All things told, this was one hell of a vacation, and we're definitely looking forward to the next one.  And there WILL be a next one - after all, we're part-Floridians, and the theme parks of Central Florida feel just as 'home' as Central Michigan.  Until next time, America.

- FIN - 

- Brian

Broam K's Italian Saga: Day I

Hi gang.

Despite the recommendations of pretty much everybody, I decided to work a half-day today.  Don't ask me why - I still had a ton packing to do.  So after baby-stitting teaching my sixth-graders for three class periods, putting in final grades for the nine-week quarter and the like, I quietly snuck out during lunch and drove home.

Go ahead and try and name a better movie. . .

With Raiders of the Lost Ark playing in the background, I threw together the remainder of my crap into a battered-and-worn 25" suitcase (to check), a backcountry backpack that Melvin let me borrow (to serve as my carry-on), and my trusty Maxpedition sling-pack (my camera bag/personal item).

Slainté.

I'm probably going to end up forgetting something important anyway.  I usually do.

I suppose having a couple beers and watching Indiana Jones during the process probably wasn't the smartest thing I could've done.

I pack like a badass.

Anyway, Kris swung by with the girls around 5:15pm in order to haul my ass to the OIA.  Alayna wasn't too thrilled to say goodbye to Daddy; Abby just looked confused.  They dropped me off around 5:45pm at the Lufthansa (some German airline, who knows) terminal and, about ten minutes later, the first two members of my travel group - one of my students and her mother - showed up.

Unfortunately, there was some nasty multiple-car accident on one of the main roads leading up to the airport, so the remaining portion of our motley team (comprised of another one of my students and five members of his family) didn't even arrive to the airport until nearly 6:45pm... and by then the check-in line for luggage/tickets was down-right brutal.

Check in itself was pretty painless once we reached the counter, though.  Running through the TSA's security gauntlet was as well (thank God).  I packed about 10 lbs - practically nothing - in my checked bag, as I didn't want to risk losing anything essential and/or valuable in the journey over.

Consequently, my carry-on was packed to the brim and heavy as shit.

What are ya gonna do.

Upon boarding our plane, I was pleased to discover that I had been given a window seat, and that the seat next to me was vacant.  This euphoria would prove to be short-lived, unfortunately, as minutes before taking off a gigantic Viking plopped down in the seat next to mine, armed with two liters of Bombay Sapphire gin (from the Duty-Free shop) and a horrific sunburn.

I never got his name - it was probably 'Sven' or something along those lines anyway.  He was a 400 lb Finn who probably stood a solid two feet taller than me, and he quickly seized the armrest between us as well as a sound portion of the leg room.  He appeared friendly enough, but his European awkwardness and gruff demeanor didn't really entice me to strike up a lengthy conversation beyond polite small talk.


(I'm not big on strangers.)

We were fortunate enough to have individual TV screens in the seats ahead of us, and they had a wide variety of new movies to choose from.  I began Lincoln, which at first intrigued Sven, but he opted for a Richard Gere movie instead because, as he told me, "that Civil War you all had. . . it sounds boring."

I didn't catch the last 1 1/2 half of this movie, so I'm not sure how it ends.  Hopefully the North wins and Lincoln stays president for years and years to come.

Unlike Richard Gere.

Anyway, I was pretty exhausted, and about 45 minutes into the movie I found myself dozing off.  Lincoln, as it turns out, is more of a drama than a war movie (which is what I was hoping for), and consequently was much slower than I had anticipated.  I decided to switch over to Cloud Atlas instead.

I couldn't tell you what this movie was about. . .

This movie was far more visually-stimulating, so over the course of a few white wines (awesome) and a to-be-expected airline dinner of chicken and rice (not so awesome), I managed to watch the movie it its entirety without falling asleep (though towards the end it became a challenge.)




I don't know what time ended up falling asleep, but an inflatable neck pillow Kris picked up for me proved incredibly useful...

- Brian