BLAME IT ON THE CAROLINAS . . .

So the Knight's Airport Limo van picked me up right on time at 7:20 AM this morning. The driver - a pleasant but rather chatty fellow - had one other stop to make on the way to Boston.   At a hotel we picked up two gentlemen who had been attending a Clinical Hypnotists Convention. One of the men was a photographer and he had been at the convention with his wife (the hypnotist in the family), but he was leaving early to fly somewhere else to photograph someone for a book. He said he had told his wife that most of the hypnotists at the convention looked like "Fat smokers". He had made this rather ironic observation to his wife, who luckily did not take offense, but said she had noticed the same thing herself.

The topic of weather came up at some point (as it invariably will), and the driver mentioned that I must have had a hard time last winter with all the snow. He explained to the other two men that I lived at the end of a long dirt road, in a very isolated location. "He could run around outside naked if he wanted to," he said. "No one would see him."

What makes him think I don't?

We arrived at Logan Airport in plenty of time and I checked in and made it through security with no problems. My flight was scheduled to leave at 11:20 AM, but they had  already posted a delayed departure time of 11:40. Not too bad, I thought. But as the boarding time drew near they began making announcements that "maintenance" was on board and there would be a slight delay.

Finally we boarded; I had a nice window seat in the Emergency Exit aisle, so there was a little extra leg room, and of the three seats in my row the middle was empty, making it even more comfortable. We began to taxi down the runway and then stopped. The pilot announced there was some sort of malfunction, but we would be on our way shortly.

This announcement was repeated every 15 minutes or so for about an hour.

Finally the pilot announced that there was a problem with the plane's weather radar system, which was not working "accordingly". He further explained that in good weather they would be allowed to fly without it, but we would be passing through a storm system over the Carolinas, so it would have to be repaired before we could depart.

Just a few minutes later he came on again and instructed us to "deplane". (No Hervé Villechaize jokes please!)

We all "deplaned" and were told further information would be available in 25 minutes, and that we were free to wander at our leisure until then. I was growing concerned as I had to make a 5:15 flight out of Ft. Lauderdale. Very soon they made another announcement: the plane would not be leaving Boston until 5:30 . . . I would miss my connecting flight to Lima.

We were cordially invited to form a line to claim a meal voucher to make up for the inconvenience; the voucher was worth $7.00, the value of which implied Spirit Airlines did not see it to be as great an inconvenience as the passengers did. I was then told to get into another line to deal with the issue of my missed connection.

I was the third person in line, and waited for at least half an hour. Most of that time the representative was helping another woman from my flight whose final destination was Nassau.  The rep was arranging an early morning flight out of Ft. Lauderdale for her, as well as overnight accommodations at a hotel there. I was hoping to be treated similarly, and though it was an inconvenience (worth roughly $7.00), I have to admit I was looking forward to a night in a nice Ft. Lauderdale hotel. Every time the rep made a call while working on the woman's arrangements, he identified himself as "Beau from Boston".  And once I heard him say he was having a "Jonah Day" - whatever that means.

When it was finally my turn, I told Beau From Boston that I was trying to get to Lima. Right away he told me it didn't look good. He said the earliest I would be able to leave was Monday morning. I was livid, but did an admiral job of not taking it out on poor Beau (from Boston). Leaving Monday would not only be an inconvenience worth far more than $7.00, it would completely sabotage the entire vacation.  Leaving Boston Monday morning would mean I wouldn't catch our Monday morning flight OUT of Lima to Juliaca, which would mean I wouldn't be going to Lake Titicaca, which would mean I wouldn't be in Puno on Thursday to catch our reserved "Amazing Trip" bus tour through the Andes to Cusco and Machu Picchu.

And Beau From Boston thought HE was having a Jonah day???

Beau told me I would be getting a free round trip voucher for a future flight for my troube. Other than that, all he coud do woud be to extend my vaction on the other end if that would help (it wouldn't), or cancel the flight for a full refund.

Where's Yolanda when I need her? SHE would have had them putting me on a private jet to Lima in no time. No, make that a private jet with a jacuzzi.  They would have GIVEN me the jet, by the time she was done with them.  And she would make sure they knew how very happy they were to do it too.  But alas, I am not as tenacious as she is.

I didn't know what I should do, and didn't really feel comfortable making a decision without consulting The Doctor, who of course is already in Lima. Seeing my quandry, Beau politely suggested I step aside while I made up my mind so he could help those in line behind me. Heaven forbid THEY be kept waiting. Our entire conversation had lasted less than five minutes, and I had patiently waited 30 minutes while he helped the Nassau bound woman in front of me!

 

I went and sat down and tried to think. I really had no certain way of reaching The Doctor. He had mentioned he wasn't planning on taking his cell phone, which left me the only option of emailing him,  I suspected that if he was attending the conference he wouldn't be checking his email until later tonight.  Even so, I had already sent him one during the 30 minutes I had been patiently waiting in Beau's line, and now I sent him another updating him on the situation. I offered the suggestion of me arriving on Monday, skipping Titicaca, spending a couple extra days in Lima, and then finding an alternate way to Machu Picchu. Or, I could just cancel my trip and he could go off exploring Peru without me.

I waited for a while, not expecting he would call, but still hoping he might. I checked on line to see if there were other flights out of Boston tomorrow, but the ones I found were expensive and had travel times of over 20 hours. Finally I went back and talked to Beau again. I asked if I let him book me on Monday's flight, would I still be able to get the refund if I decided to cancel it between now and then. He said I would still get the refund, and so I told him to go ahead and book it.

At least this way I have my bases covered. I have the flight if I need it, but will get the refund if I don't.

Needless to say I was an emotional wreck. I was sad and angry and disappointed and wanted to cry. I do pride myself for not screaming at Beau, but that no doubt would have ended with me being hauled off by airport security. In a fog, I found my way to the food court, cashed in my meal voucher for a slice of pizza and a root beer, and sent The Doctor my final update.

After I ate, I went and claimed my luggage, and then called Knight's to come pick me up at the airport. Right now I should be on the final leg of my journey from Ft. Lauderdale to Lima, but instead I'm writing this in the van on my way back home.

I keep thinking, if only the plane's weather radar had been working, if only the weather hadn't been bad in the Carolinas . . .

I am hardly an optimist, but I do try to believe that everything happens for a reason. Unfortunately, I am not feeling stoic enough to see things that way just yet.

Maybe tonight I'll run around outside naked.   Maybe that will make me feel better.