Friday, March 22 ... home again

Spent the morning cleaning up and completing our packing.  We had three plastic "grocery bags" of miscellaneous for our wonderful driver ... the remnants of the BBQ dinner plus various pantry staples and a few kitchen odds and ends we had purchased to make our culinary life a little easier.  It was truly a random assortment (3 heads of garlic, a couple tablespoons of cumin, a 1-cup Pyrex measuring pitcher...on and on) but he had promised to pass things along to needier families if they were not useful for his own.  A good deal all the way around.

We were surprised by the utter lack of competition to check out, on a designated check-out day.  This left us with an hour or so on our hands, which we passed in the pleasantly breezy hotel lobby. 

We arrived at the airport in plenty of time ... turned out we were going to board the only United flight that DAY!  As we were checking in, we were offered the opportunity to upgrade our Houston-to-O'Hare flight to first-class for a very reasonable upcharge.  Thinking it over for just a minute, we said "AHA!  Free food and wine, and comfortable seating!" and we signed right up.

Have a few extra pesos burning a hole in our pocket, we rummaged around a souvenir stand and purchased a few items.  Then we ambled on toward the security screening, the woman who'd sold us the items following to attest that they were safe.  So, what gets us busted?  TINNED FISH that Linda bought to bring home for Tom ... it was packed in olive oil and therefore "a liquid."  Visions of flaming mussels and herring hung foggily in our dazed minds.

After a brief debate, Linda hiked back down to the check-in desk to see if she could put the offending bivalve-bombs in her CHECKED luggage.  Indeed she could ... the lady who had checked us in donned her safety vest and retrieved Linda's suitcase from the processing point, and the deal was done.  Then we went looking for a water fountain to fill our water bottles, only to learn that there's no potable water at the airport.  We threw a few more pesos at a big bottle of chilled, safe water.

We had packed some chunked up sweet peppers, a few string cheese packets, and some mixed nuts to see us through lunchtime, knowing there was only beverage service on the tiny plane to Houston.  An uneventful flight until we actually arrived at the terminal -- the gate to which we were assigned was all cluttered up with baggage carts and other vehicles and material belonging to the monster Lufthansa plane at the neighboring gate.  They were in no hurry to move it out, it seemed, so we were moved to another gate somewhere on down the line.

Now to get through immigration and customs.  A long snaky line, but it did move consistently.  As we made the last turn, we were asked by a few folks who felt they were about to miss their plane if they could hop in front of us.  We didn't have all THAT much loose time ourselves -- still had to retrieve luggage, get through Customs, re-check luggage, and get re-screened -- but it was just a few folks and we let it go.  They got a personal escort from someone on the Federal team, who outdid himself keeping them as calm as possible.  A bravura performance!

Our candy didn't mark us as needing personal Customs inspection this year, so we got our bags re-checked and ourselves through screening again.  Then to realize that United has been trying to tell us that our plane is delayed!  This worked out in our favor to some extent, as we would have been well-tested to get out to the gate in time to catch the original schedule.

Further developments ... an American Airlines flight was cancelled and United sopped up most of THOSE folks as well.  Never had a casual decision for personal comfort looked SO GOOD, as we contemplated those comfy upgraded seats.  When the plane finally did arrive, get cleaned, and open for boarding, it was 100% full and everyone was tired and ready to get on up to Chicago.  The "first class" turned out to be business-class, but still very lovely compared to a full flight in coach. 

We were served an elegant antipasto plate plus a small tossed salad and a fruit cup, and with the complimentary glass of Chablis, we were somewhat restored.  The flight wasn't long enough to catch an entire movie, so we watched the little airplane icon move along the map toward Chicago.

We were soon landing at O'Hare with temperatures hovering around 30; we had left temperatures near 90 just a few hours before.  As luck would have it, the shuttle bus back to the hotel where the van was parked pulled out just as we arrived at the connection point.  We called the venue, to be told the next one would be on schedule ... in a full half-hour.  Fortunately there was inside seating, so we faced the wall clock and started counting.  But WAIT!! Our message must have gotten through, for very shortly the van appeared again to pick up the four of us who were waiting.  A slightly generous tip to the driver/baggage handler resulted in a pleasant accommodation:  Linda stayed in the lobby with the luggage, and I was able to get a lift over to the parking ramp.

Having parked the van at night in a snowstorm, I was a bit uncertain about its exact location.  Taking the elevator to the top tier, however, proved prescient as I learned the path to the exit while finding the vehicle.  Happily the temperatures had been warm enough that there was neither snow nor ice to clear, and the engine started immediately.  PHEW!

We were both pretty punchy by this point, but we did manage to thread our way out of the tangle of roads near the airport and find the way home.  A quick swap of baggage and parking spots, and to bed in the wee hours of the morning.  Good to be home, even if there IS a snowstorm forecast for Sunday night (seriously!).