Arriving in Bangkok was like stepping into a dream world. All of our previous stops we could both speak and read the language-not so here. The writing was the first thing that took me by surprise, it is so intricate! full of loops, swirls, curves and dips, it seems more of an art form than a language. then to not have English as the primary language was just as jolting, though everyone spoke or understood a couple basic phrases. The group took mini-buses down to chinatown where we would spend the next two nights before moving off to Koh Tao (a tourist attraction and diving resort).
even at one in the morning, as we rolled up to our hotel, the streets were lined with food vendors and lights, and traffic was still stop and go. exhausted from the twenty-four hours of travel, we decided to simply go to bed and explore the next day.
the next morning we were introduced to Thai food. The most startling thing about it was thier portions. When the menu said "pankakes" it meant "one pancake", and it was something more of a crepe at that. However, as we made our way down to the river, we discovered the street vendors.
Now, most cities have street vendors, chinatown has A LOT of street vendors. practically lining any side and even some major roads are carts with sandals, keychains, umbrellas, lottery tickets, and a personal favorite- stick meat (yep, meat on a stick). There was no end to the strange and wonderfully new smells, sights, and noises! and it only got better when we finally found the river. China town has a large (and very polluted) river running along one edge, which has given rise to the most interesting form of water transport I've seen yet: pencil boats with V-8 engines on them. These boats sit about two people across, and twelve people down, and have a giant car engine affixed to the back which the diver pivots using a large metal pole. The car engine is attached to a longer pole, on which sits a propeller-beautifully simple, and very, very fast. Later that day we would get a tour of the back canals on one of these. But for now we had a destination: Wat Pho (or Po).
Wat Pho is one of the most visited temples in chinatown because it houses the Reclining Buddah. The Buddah is HUGE, I don't know the exact dimensions, but it is large enough to make you feel imminently judged when you stand in front of it. The craftsmanship is also amazing, the details are so fine that it is hard to imagine it was crafted by hand, down to the mother of pearl inlay on it's feet. after making wishes to the Buddah, and wandering around the rest of the gold-leafed Wat, we wandered off for lunch.
Now if I am going to impart anything to you about chinatown, I'd like it to be that that place is ALL about the food. While it may not be your usual western fare, the street vendors take a certain amount of pride in their food (and deep fryers) and manage to pull off some incredible things, for all of about 20 cents. here is a small list of things I've found wandering between carts (and sampling judiciously):
Squid (on a stick) - pick your very own squid! they grill it up for you..a bit chewy.
Pork (on a stick)
Chicken (on a stick)- some have a delicious, delicious orange sauce
Dumplings (stick optional)
Fish balls (on a stick) - little deep fried balls of fish.
various fruit (also on a stick)
macaroon meringue (not on a stick) - these are REALLY good, fluffy, light and coconut flavored
Durien - the smelly fruit, which also doesn't taste so good, eat this one outside if you want to try it
milk pills - still not sure what these were, found them at a 7eleven in all thai writing. taste like astronaut ice cream.
Fried pork skins (also on a stick)
Sausages (yep, on a stick).
delicious, delicious tiny donuts
needless to say, the street vendors of chinatown love skewering pretty much anything possible then deep frying or grilling it, and covering it your choice of spicy or sweet sauce.
thank you street vendors, I'll miss you and your wares (especially after pad thai for breakfast, lunch, and dinner)
Friday, January 29, 2010
Tuesday, January 19, 2010
Scorched Earth
--note: there are two other entries for today: "The Siren Song of the Sea", and "Turtles: Ninjas of the Ocean". Enjoy!--
Panting, my mouth parched, a sunburn on my face getting worse I step onto the asphalt, heart pounding with excitement as much as dehydration.
Mount Haleakala- at 10,00 feet it is the highest point on Maui. Coincidentally also the starting point for the twelve mile, seven hour "experience" that would take us walking through a four ecosystems. We would start at the top of the crater, descend into the lava fields (around 6,000 feet), around the cinder cones, then through a rain forest back into a dry forest (~8,000 feet). It's easy listening to it.
We step onto the trailhead and are greeted with a spectacular view of where we will be going. The valley drops away below us, filled with reds, yellows, blacks and greys. At the far end, the clouds cluster inside two mountains like waves in a bay, too dense to get up into the lava fields, too light to sink deeper in onto the island- so they hover inbetween the two. It is odd to think that the clouds define an invisible line where the air densities are different enough to support, that air itself can change so darastically to cause the changes I am about to see in this blasted landscape. The whole view has a feel as if you are looking at the ocean, and the clouds are the surface. All the tiny mountains, hills, villages, and trees below are under the water-like a reef-in their own ecosystem so different from the one defined by that above the cloud layer. Mountains tall enough even poke out of the clouds farther off in the distance like tiny islands in the gigantic ocean of of white.
starting down there is nothing but dust and rocks. The air at this altitude is too dry to support any form of plants-and without those, higher terrestrial life is very difficult. The landscape itself looks like something out of a science fiction novel. Huge boulders perched at odd angles, the splotches and hills of colored rock and sand. the waves in the rocks of the lava fields. I climbed down a hole about 10m deep and found rock formations where the rock hardened into evidence that it was clearly a liquid at some point in the "recent" past. It seemed, even at second or third glance, that no life could eek a living here, just rocks. Soon, however, I noticed how different these rocks were- some shiny, some dull, red, yellow, blue, black. at about 8500-8000 feet, there was a clear line where plants could suddenly grow. We saw many small, stunted cacti-looking plants, clinging to the loose soil. On the far-windward side of the crater, where air with moisture would hit, green could be seen growing wherever possible. however, once in the crater, the air dried out immediately and all that was left was the waving, jagged peaks of the lava floes.
It was as if the Styx had dried up.
we trudged through sand, across rocks and rubble, it was not too long until everyone was looking at thier feet, following the path and waiting for the rest stop.
A stumble on a loose rock jolted me from my ferry ride and as I looked around I was stunned at the change. I was at about 6,000 feet now, closer to the windward side of the crater and there were plants! woody growth, things that could exist for multiple years, flowers, some small shrubs with berries, and the biggest find of all- insects. A tree with yellow flowers had multitudes of visitors, Bees, wasps, a dragonfly, and some small fly-types. This continued until I entered the area sheltered by the curve of the crater edge. In this area only yellow, dry grasses and small ferns similar to those found on a savanna flourished. Though not more than thirty feet away, woody and green plants continued to grow.
The hike from 6,000 feet to 8,500 feet was brutal. Switchback after switchback in the scorching sun of the leeward, dessicated air. occasionally the trail would loop around the edge of the crater and a blast of cold, moist air would be waiting. At one point there was a small bridge where either side was visible simply by turning around- the difference was startling. On the windward side there were lush plants, flowers, and berries, all above a sea of clouds. On the leeward side there were grasses, palms, and plants adapted to the lack of water.
The most beautiful sight of the trip happened as I passed through a copse of small shrubs and caught sight of the sun glinting off car windshields. the end! it had been seven hours, one full hour of leeward uphill since my last drink..and the end was finally in sight. I felt like a character in one of my favorite fiction books-
Raraku had been conquered.
We went in individuals, We came out a group.
Panting, my mouth parched, a sunburn on my face getting worse I step onto the asphalt, heart pounding with excitement as much as dehydration.
Mount Haleakala- at 10,00 feet it is the highest point on Maui. Coincidentally also the starting point for the twelve mile, seven hour "experience" that would take us walking through a four ecosystems. We would start at the top of the crater, descend into the lava fields (around 6,000 feet), around the cinder cones, then through a rain forest back into a dry forest (~8,000 feet). It's easy listening to it.
We step onto the trailhead and are greeted with a spectacular view of where we will be going. The valley drops away below us, filled with reds, yellows, blacks and greys. At the far end, the clouds cluster inside two mountains like waves in a bay, too dense to get up into the lava fields, too light to sink deeper in onto the island- so they hover inbetween the two. It is odd to think that the clouds define an invisible line where the air densities are different enough to support, that air itself can change so darastically to cause the changes I am about to see in this blasted landscape. The whole view has a feel as if you are looking at the ocean, and the clouds are the surface. All the tiny mountains, hills, villages, and trees below are under the water-like a reef-in their own ecosystem so different from the one defined by that above the cloud layer. Mountains tall enough even poke out of the clouds farther off in the distance like tiny islands in the gigantic ocean of of white.
starting down there is nothing but dust and rocks. The air at this altitude is too dry to support any form of plants-and without those, higher terrestrial life is very difficult. The landscape itself looks like something out of a science fiction novel. Huge boulders perched at odd angles, the splotches and hills of colored rock and sand. the waves in the rocks of the lava fields. I climbed down a hole about 10m deep and found rock formations where the rock hardened into evidence that it was clearly a liquid at some point in the "recent" past. It seemed, even at second or third glance, that no life could eek a living here, just rocks. Soon, however, I noticed how different these rocks were- some shiny, some dull, red, yellow, blue, black. at about 8500-8000 feet, there was a clear line where plants could suddenly grow. We saw many small, stunted cacti-looking plants, clinging to the loose soil. On the far-windward side of the crater, where air with moisture would hit, green could be seen growing wherever possible. however, once in the crater, the air dried out immediately and all that was left was the waving, jagged peaks of the lava floes.
It was as if the Styx had dried up.
we trudged through sand, across rocks and rubble, it was not too long until everyone was looking at thier feet, following the path and waiting for the rest stop.
A stumble on a loose rock jolted me from my ferry ride and as I looked around I was stunned at the change. I was at about 6,000 feet now, closer to the windward side of the crater and there were plants! woody growth, things that could exist for multiple years, flowers, some small shrubs with berries, and the biggest find of all- insects. A tree with yellow flowers had multitudes of visitors, Bees, wasps, a dragonfly, and some small fly-types. This continued until I entered the area sheltered by the curve of the crater edge. In this area only yellow, dry grasses and small ferns similar to those found on a savanna flourished. Though not more than thirty feet away, woody and green plants continued to grow.
The hike from 6,000 feet to 8,500 feet was brutal. Switchback after switchback in the scorching sun of the leeward, dessicated air. occasionally the trail would loop around the edge of the crater and a blast of cold, moist air would be waiting. At one point there was a small bridge where either side was visible simply by turning around- the difference was startling. On the windward side there were lush plants, flowers, and berries, all above a sea of clouds. On the leeward side there were grasses, palms, and plants adapted to the lack of water.
The most beautiful sight of the trip happened as I passed through a copse of small shrubs and caught sight of the sun glinting off car windshields. the end! it had been seven hours, one full hour of leeward uphill since my last drink..and the end was finally in sight. I felt like a character in one of my favorite fiction books-
Raraku had been conquered.
We went in individuals, We came out a group.
The Siren Song of the Sea
I look out of the window as I wake up.
"what's it like out?" asks John
"beautiful..again" someone replies.
we all laugh.
perfect temperature, sunny, and the ocean waves rolling on the beach, throwing the smell of salt into the air. another wonderful day to go snorkeling. We spend a half-hour driving to the highly touristy end of the island and set up camp on the beach outside of a resort. The fish here are so used to being fed and seeing people that they are hardly skittish at all! I swam through schools of varied fishes, and was startled as I actually ran into a school of needle fish that were hanging out at the very surface. It was nice snorkling, though nothing special until Tim came hurrying over to me and lets me know that there are cuttlefish!
my love for cuttlefish, squid, and octopi is known to just about anyone who knows me.
Cuttlefish? here? my finger involuntarily twitched over the camera button. After a minute of searching, there they were! a group of six cuttlefish just hanging around near the bottom being absolutely adorable. They were moving their tentacles about and wrestling with each other.
of course, I had to get closer. They gave off the impression that they were tolerating me, and just when I was about to take a picture they changed from striped to dark red and sped off!
the chase was on!
two minutes later they shot off and I was gasping for air-the devious little bastards had just swam in a large circle and then jet propelled away once I got to the same spot I was before. If cuttlefish could laugh-I'm sure they would have been weeping with mirth. I gave up and went out to deeper water, in search of turtles and rays. what I found instead was one of the most beautiful things I have ever, ever experienced.
I dove to get a picture of another colorful fish- and as I held still under ten feet of blue water with light streaming shadows and ripples on my skin I heard the whales singing. There is no way to describe the beauty of the moment as their song radiated not just through my ears, but my very bones. It echoed in my lungs, pleading me to stay as I floated to the surface. Even now, if I close my eyes and hold my breath I can still hear their siren song
"what's it like out?" asks John
"beautiful..again" someone replies.
we all laugh.
perfect temperature, sunny, and the ocean waves rolling on the beach, throwing the smell of salt into the air. another wonderful day to go snorkeling. We spend a half-hour driving to the highly touristy end of the island and set up camp on the beach outside of a resort. The fish here are so used to being fed and seeing people that they are hardly skittish at all! I swam through schools of varied fishes, and was startled as I actually ran into a school of needle fish that were hanging out at the very surface. It was nice snorkling, though nothing special until Tim came hurrying over to me and lets me know that there are cuttlefish!
my love for cuttlefish, squid, and octopi is known to just about anyone who knows me.
Cuttlefish? here? my finger involuntarily twitched over the camera button. After a minute of searching, there they were! a group of six cuttlefish just hanging around near the bottom being absolutely adorable. They were moving their tentacles about and wrestling with each other.
of course, I had to get closer. They gave off the impression that they were tolerating me, and just when I was about to take a picture they changed from striped to dark red and sped off!
the chase was on!
two minutes later they shot off and I was gasping for air-the devious little bastards had just swam in a large circle and then jet propelled away once I got to the same spot I was before. If cuttlefish could laugh-I'm sure they would have been weeping with mirth. I gave up and went out to deeper water, in search of turtles and rays. what I found instead was one of the most beautiful things I have ever, ever experienced.
I dove to get a picture of another colorful fish- and as I held still under ten feet of blue water with light streaming shadows and ripples on my skin I heard the whales singing. There is no way to describe the beauty of the moment as their song radiated not just through my ears, but my very bones. It echoed in my lungs, pleading me to stay as I floated to the surface. Even now, if I close my eyes and hold my breath I can still hear their siren song
Turtles: Ninjas of the Ocean
The automatic doors slid open and I stared dumbfounded at the plants in front of me. I turned to Jake, "there's no glass in between them and us is there..." I could hardly contain my smile as my brain adjusted to the fact that the temperature was above freezing.
welcome to Maui.
Similar to the first day in AK, I rolled over at seven the next morning and looked out the window to see a palm tree gleaming happily in the morning sunlight. Tiny zebra doves flitted around, looking for all the world like they had flown headfirst into a baby-blue powder-puff. Marveling at the fact that I was walking outside in shorts and a tee-shirt, the group took a short drive to a reef where we could snorkel. I readied my digital camera; eager to try it out underwater. Upon sinking into the lukewarm waters there was just too much to take pictures of! everything was spectacular, the way the fish floated, the outcoppings of fan corals, the islands of brain coral in the middle of the sand. Fish of all colors and shapes darted around, each with thier own personality. Reef triggerfish were camera shy, but didn't mind you getting close. Unicorn fish were practically throwing themselves at the lens, giving perfect profiles and framing. the spectacularly colored cleaner wrasses would dart away anytime you moved, then shyly peek out if you were patient enough.
Allen found a little moray eel with white polka-dots all over its body hiding in a patch of brain coral. Jake and I immediately marveled at it-similar to the cleaner wrasses it was shy at first-but ended up poking about the coral once we held still for a little bit. By now I was shivering cold and about to head in to lay in the sun for a little bit. I finally managed a good picture of the moray and looked over to let Jake know I was going in.
For anyone that hasn't snorkled or scuba-dived, there are several things that you need to know:
1) there is no pripheral vision with masks, so if you aren't facing it, you can't see it.
2) the human voice doesn't work well under water, so gestures are hevily relied upon.
As I faced Jake I saw him FRANTICALLY pointing to Allen (on my other side). I spun and made a surprised shriek at the sea turtle five inches away from my face and directly under Allen!
Despite the noises we managed to make- it very calmly headbutted Allen's chest, hit me with a flipper, decided it was done and flapped lazily off over the reef. As startled as we were, we managed to follow it for a good bit and get some good pictures. Shivering and completely content with the first 12 hours in Maui, I headed to shore to show people the pictures and brag about being assaulted by a sea turtle...
I can only wonder what the next six days will have in store for us.
welcome to Maui.
Similar to the first day in AK, I rolled over at seven the next morning and looked out the window to see a palm tree gleaming happily in the morning sunlight. Tiny zebra doves flitted around, looking for all the world like they had flown headfirst into a baby-blue powder-puff. Marveling at the fact that I was walking outside in shorts and a tee-shirt, the group took a short drive to a reef where we could snorkel. I readied my digital camera; eager to try it out underwater. Upon sinking into the lukewarm waters there was just too much to take pictures of! everything was spectacular, the way the fish floated, the outcoppings of fan corals, the islands of brain coral in the middle of the sand. Fish of all colors and shapes darted around, each with thier own personality. Reef triggerfish were camera shy, but didn't mind you getting close. Unicorn fish were practically throwing themselves at the lens, giving perfect profiles and framing. the spectacularly colored cleaner wrasses would dart away anytime you moved, then shyly peek out if you were patient enough.
Allen found a little moray eel with white polka-dots all over its body hiding in a patch of brain coral. Jake and I immediately marveled at it-similar to the cleaner wrasses it was shy at first-but ended up poking about the coral once we held still for a little bit. By now I was shivering cold and about to head in to lay in the sun for a little bit. I finally managed a good picture of the moray and looked over to let Jake know I was going in.
For anyone that hasn't snorkled or scuba-dived, there are several things that you need to know:
1) there is no pripheral vision with masks, so if you aren't facing it, you can't see it.
2) the human voice doesn't work well under water, so gestures are hevily relied upon.
As I faced Jake I saw him FRANTICALLY pointing to Allen (on my other side). I spun and made a surprised shriek at the sea turtle five inches away from my face and directly under Allen!
Despite the noises we managed to make- it very calmly headbutted Allen's chest, hit me with a flipper, decided it was done and flapped lazily off over the reef. As startled as we were, we managed to follow it for a good bit and get some good pictures. Shivering and completely content with the first 12 hours in Maui, I headed to shore to show people the pictures and brag about being assaulted by a sea turtle...
I can only wonder what the next six days will have in store for us.
Saturday, January 16, 2010
Coming for to carry me home
We got to the Shrine of St. Terese at about eleven at night and promptly collapsed after a quick inspection of the cabin we'd call home for the next few days. It was fairly small, and looked like a log cabin that Abraham Lincoln would have been born in. There was a cozy propane fireplace, not very eco-friendly, that would soon become my best friend.
Come morning as I creaked down the staircase Denny threw open the window shades and I am absolutely floored by what I see. Not more than a hundred feet from the front steps is the ocean. The carpet of slick, unbroken snow stopped as if someone had dragged a razor across the shoreline, exposing the black rocks under the high-tide mark. There was a small walkway, more of a raised road, that led to a small, spruce-covered island about two to three-hundred feet off the shore.
After I bundled up in far too many layers, I set off on a quick exploration. Natually, I headed towards the surf first, in search of tide pools and anything salty. What astonished me most was not the pools themselves, but the rocks. Never have I seen rocks such a rich, deep shade of green!
It was like walking on the surface of the ocean.
The rocks had ripples of light green, small bubbles of a emerald so dark they were almost black. A red stain of rust ripped through the serenity and looked for all the world like a devlopment site in the middle of a lush forest- another beautiful creation of man-kind.
The next several days got colder and colder, causing us to stay in and play cards-seeking a shelter from the wind and snow. After visits to the wetlands, NOAA, and Juneau city, the group would all get as close to the fire as possible and play a never-ending game of musical chairs. On the third day of being cooped up, and the (hopefully) last game of go-fish several of us decided to brave the outdoors.
First it was three of us, then five, ten, and soon the entire group was running up and down stairs, suiting up and wrapping faces in scarves. We all fell out of the door, huddling around as the wind drove snow sideways into our faces. All it took was one snowball to let the cabin fever out. Once people were running around, the snow was hardly a bother at all. Snow angels came to life, snowballs flew in artillery fire on anyone in range, and several people were tackled into drifts.
We set out to the Island at leaned on the railing over the cliff, our lights off and nothing but the ocean and the moon in front of us. A spontaneous and horrendous rendition of "Swing low" broke out among the group as we swaggered back towards the cabin. Our crazy was channeled into a group effort to build a life size snowman of none-other than Dennis Taylor. We failed miserably, but he did have no hair and a smile, though the resemblance ends there. Finally chilled and tired, we filed into the cabin again and I smiled as the door closed because just one week in Alaska had done what three years in Maine could never have:
Made me love winter.
Glerbenargle, AK
-Andrew
Come morning as I creaked down the staircase Denny threw open the window shades and I am absolutely floored by what I see. Not more than a hundred feet from the front steps is the ocean. The carpet of slick, unbroken snow stopped as if someone had dragged a razor across the shoreline, exposing the black rocks under the high-tide mark. There was a small walkway, more of a raised road, that led to a small, spruce-covered island about two to three-hundred feet off the shore.
After I bundled up in far too many layers, I set off on a quick exploration. Natually, I headed towards the surf first, in search of tide pools and anything salty. What astonished me most was not the pools themselves, but the rocks. Never have I seen rocks such a rich, deep shade of green!
It was like walking on the surface of the ocean.
The rocks had ripples of light green, small bubbles of a emerald so dark they were almost black. A red stain of rust ripped through the serenity and looked for all the world like a devlopment site in the middle of a lush forest- another beautiful creation of man-kind.
The next several days got colder and colder, causing us to stay in and play cards-seeking a shelter from the wind and snow. After visits to the wetlands, NOAA, and Juneau city, the group would all get as close to the fire as possible and play a never-ending game of musical chairs. On the third day of being cooped up, and the (hopefully) last game of go-fish several of us decided to brave the outdoors.
First it was three of us, then five, ten, and soon the entire group was running up and down stairs, suiting up and wrapping faces in scarves. We all fell out of the door, huddling around as the wind drove snow sideways into our faces. All it took was one snowball to let the cabin fever out. Once people were running around, the snow was hardly a bother at all. Snow angels came to life, snowballs flew in artillery fire on anyone in range, and several people were tackled into drifts.
We set out to the Island at leaned on the railing over the cliff, our lights off and nothing but the ocean and the moon in front of us. A spontaneous and horrendous rendition of "Swing low" broke out among the group as we swaggered back towards the cabin. Our crazy was channeled into a group effort to build a life size snowman of none-other than Dennis Taylor. We failed miserably, but he did have no hair and a smile, though the resemblance ends there. Finally chilled and tired, we filed into the cabin again and I smiled as the door closed because just one week in Alaska had done what three years in Maine could never have:
Made me love winter.
Glerbenargle, AK
-Andrew
Monday, January 11, 2010
Don't let the door hit you on the way...ouch...
"Sir, you're flying out of San Jose, not San Fransisco."
With about an hour left before my flight left the tarmac, it was NOT what I wanted to hear. Through some stroke of wild chance and several prayers to whatever deity was listening, I managed to check in and get to the terminal on time-though they could not put my luggage all the way through to Juneau. This meant that in the hour and a half layover in chicago, i would have to go to baggage claim, check my bags to Juneau, and re-enter security...and an hour and a half was if my san jose flight took off in time.
it didn't.
Once we touched down I had about fifty minutes before my flight left chicago, so I dumped my bags on the nearest chair to speed up my going through security. I made it to the carousel and, again by some stroke of luck, my bag was the first one out. After I disentangled myself from a chatty airport assistant at the check-in counter I got through security in about ten minutes and had about twenty before my flight. deep breath and relax, twenty mintues was more than enough.
Of course, that's assuming the TSA hadn't found your unattended bags and called the cops. the police spent about ten minutes telling me how dumb I was, then let me go with enough time to get to my gate, meet up with the group and board...and also have a Digestive cookie, though I can't reccomend that to anyone.
The night was far from over though. Once the group arrived in seattle, we de-boarded the plane and waited for our flight to Juneau through Katchican. The lovely attendents at the desk also informed us that no flights had been able to land in Juneau for two days, and our chances didn't look good. after a short thirty minute hop to Katchican we sat on the tarmac for another twenty crossing our fingers so hard our knuckles were white.
ten minutes after we were supposed to leave, the intercom sparks to life and we hear: "We just finished re-fuling and we're going to try to make it in, please buckle up and take your seats, we're out of here." There was a rousing cheer and we strapped down. After two passes at the runway and several nerve-wracking bouts of turbulance, we broke the cloud cover and touched down- the first flight to land in two days. Applause broke out in the cabin and we all exited giving the captain and co-pilot hi-fives. we picked up our luggage and walked out into the balmy and beautiful Juneau air, it was all downhill from here.
seventeen people and thier luggage in a fifteen person van?
easy.
With about an hour left before my flight left the tarmac, it was NOT what I wanted to hear. Through some stroke of wild chance and several prayers to whatever deity was listening, I managed to check in and get to the terminal on time-though they could not put my luggage all the way through to Juneau. This meant that in the hour and a half layover in chicago, i would have to go to baggage claim, check my bags to Juneau, and re-enter security...and an hour and a half was if my san jose flight took off in time.
it didn't.
Once we touched down I had about fifty minutes before my flight left chicago, so I dumped my bags on the nearest chair to speed up my going through security. I made it to the carousel and, again by some stroke of luck, my bag was the first one out. After I disentangled myself from a chatty airport assistant at the check-in counter I got through security in about ten minutes and had about twenty before my flight. deep breath and relax, twenty mintues was more than enough.
Of course, that's assuming the TSA hadn't found your unattended bags and called the cops. the police spent about ten minutes telling me how dumb I was, then let me go with enough time to get to my gate, meet up with the group and board...and also have a Digestive cookie, though I can't reccomend that to anyone.
The night was far from over though. Once the group arrived in seattle, we de-boarded the plane and waited for our flight to Juneau through Katchican. The lovely attendents at the desk also informed us that no flights had been able to land in Juneau for two days, and our chances didn't look good. after a short thirty minute hop to Katchican we sat on the tarmac for another twenty crossing our fingers so hard our knuckles were white.
ten minutes after we were supposed to leave, the intercom sparks to life and we hear: "We just finished re-fuling and we're going to try to make it in, please buckle up and take your seats, we're out of here." There was a rousing cheer and we strapped down. After two passes at the runway and several nerve-wracking bouts of turbulance, we broke the cloud cover and touched down- the first flight to land in two days. Applause broke out in the cabin and we all exited giving the captain and co-pilot hi-fives. we picked up our luggage and walked out into the balmy and beautiful Juneau air, it was all downhill from here.
seventeen people and thier luggage in a fifteen person van?
easy.
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