An Auspicious Start

Our trip to China had finally begun.
Turns out my travelling companion, Beth (our friend who works with Tim), is just as anal as I am, so we were at the airport way early. There were maybe six people in line and security was a breeze, plus they were able to check our bags all the way through to our final distination (we we landed in Beijing, and had to change planes to get to Xi'an to see the terra-cotta soldiers). Could life get any better?

Since we were there so early, we decided to celebrate with coffee at a cafe across from the gate, a major decision for someone who normally sits at the gate anxiously watching every move made by the gate aagents, knowing that the minute I leave, even to go to the bathroom everyone will be hustled aboard and the flight will take off without me (paging Dr. Freud). Either that or all the overhead storage space will be taken, which is worse.

So there we sat, sipping and chatting when we looked up and realized that, oh no, our flight was boarding (early) and the waiting area had completely emptied out (who's crazy now, huh?).

First to arrive, last to board. Not good for someone who makes the Rainman look like a fly-by-the-seat-of-your-pants kind of guy. Especially when it takes me a good fifteen minutes once I'm actually in the seat to perform my pre-flight checklist (book, ipod, sudoku, blanket, pillow...the list goes on and on and that's just for a two hour domestic flight).

As if it wasn't bad enough, somehow I handed over the wrong ticket which they put through the machine and ripped in half (how was I going to explain that sixteen hours later to someone who spoke Chinese?). Then, I couldn't free my passport holder from the pouch inside my bag, or the passport from the holder. I also managed to get tangled up in my jacket after dropping it twice. This was beyond Lucy. I had become Jerry Lewis! Of course, Beth was a great help, doubled over laughing.

Once on the plane, the comedy of errors continued. Trying to lug my bags up the narrow stairs to the second level (and by bags I mean a suitcase I could live out of for several weeks and a "purse" that could house a family of four -- packing light to me meanns not bringing my out of season clothes) was like trying to wrestle an alligator while juggling jello.

At this point, my jacket was wrapped around my neck and my passport and boarding pass were clenched in my teeth. Concerned for the safety of my fellow passengers and possible personal injury lawsuits, the flight attendant relieved me of my suitcase at the top of the stairs.

Now all I had to do was unpack and settle into what would be my home for the next thirteen and a half hours. Refusing a pre-flight glass of OJ, I leaned forward to open my bag, not realizing that my seatmate had decided that a nice glass of juice would hit the spot and was reaching for it behind my back. Unfortunately, I chose that moment to sit back rather abruptly and the juice hit the spot allright. It hit several on my shirt, my chair, my pillow....
The rest of the flight passed uneventfully, but by then the tone was set. Therefore, it was no surprise when we landed in Beijing and I got patted down by a security agent who got further around the bases than Tim on our fourth date. And then Beth walked into a table, knocking over a soda (karma for laughing at me)...yep, it was going to be an interesting trip.