Space Generation Congress Day 5

Day 5: Sunday, October 1^st, 2005 [Flying Back]

We arrived at the airport before the check in even opened. It turned out our flight left at 6:55, not 6. This is the layman’s terms way of explaining truncation error. We waited in the airport for a while, and then hopped on the plane to Paris.

Once back in Charles de Gaulle Airport, things took a turn for the worse. Kathryn and Eric, for some reason, had to check in in Paris because the check in station in Valencia didn’t give them their tickets. Now they found out why; they were bumped to standby. Somehow I managed to have my ticket and they didn’t. I had already gotten ¾ of the way through the security line before I found out, and when I stood in line to get on the airplane, all I could do was pray for them. I didn’t see them in Cincinnati customs later that day, and I never found out how they got home.

However, that was the first thing that was eating me up. The second thing was this line was moving so slow. We were all moving so way too slowly for comfort. Once we were in the glass archway, I knew why. Security was patting down every single person and searching carry on right there. The worst part? They had 2 PEOPLE PATTING DOWN EVERY SINGLE PERSON!! New rule French people: If you have a security checkpoint before you get to the gate then you DON’T NEED ONE AFTER THE GATE! At least this gave me some time to listen to Weird Al’s “Genius in France” again for my second time through that airport.

The security checkpoint delayed our flight by an hour. However, by this point, after staying up without sleep the night before, I passed out. A crying baby sitting next to me could not stop the wave of exhaustion from helping me get the sleep I needed, and when the engines briefly woke me up at takeoff, I had a sleep kit on my lap, complete with earplugs and eye blinders. On an eight hour flight, I got eight and a half hours of sleep. I believe that ratio is a world record, since most people don’t sleep for an hour before takeoff. I woke up with half an hour left in the flight, just enough time to eat a meal (complete with the most disgusting fromage ever), get a drink, and watch the map.

The delay forced me to stop in Atlanta instead of going straight to Orlando. In Cincinnati, I had to take my luggage (which, thankfully, had arrived) to the baggage claim, so I knew it was safe. However, when I got to Orlando, my bag was nowhere to be found on the baggage turnstile.

Me: NOO!! STUPID AMERICANS!!
French Guy from the same flight from Paris: Your luggage got lost too?

I filed a report with baggage claim (by the way, who likes working in the baggage claim department? The only people you ever have to deal with are irate because the only time you need to talk to baggage services is when you’ve lost your luggage. I guess they’re either sad saps who got forced there because something in their life went wrong, or they are cynical SOBs.), and took my backpack and laptop back to my car. However, as I was leaving the parking lot, I got a call saying they found it, so I picked it up and went home, with everything; I was in one piece and I didn’t lose a single piece of luggage. Thank God. By the time I got home it was 11pm and I had a 7:30 class. No time to unpack, time to sleep. The End.