Dramamine solves everything

Landing in L.A., Riley and I were anxious to figure out how we’d get to our connecting flight after hearing scary rumors from family and friends about difficulties navigating the airport. Turns out, they were all right in some respect. As soon as we exited the plane there were no signs anywhere and hardly anyone to ask where to go. Eventually, we asked a teller where our next flight would be departing from and he could only tell us to wait by some emergency door and maybe a shuttle would take us there. “Was he new?” I wondered, “Or, are the employees here always just as confused as their passengers?”

Once the doors did open, we were led down a long staircase outside the terminal gate and onto a bus where the young bus driver told us with a huge smile that he wasn’t going to Delta. Assuming he was joking we boarded anyway and held the seat tight as he drove swiftly around the tarmac, winding in and out of the runway paths of moving planes. Eventually, he did drop us off at Delta.

To kill time, Riley and I sat in a Mexican “bar” at the airport and ate, what later turned out to be the worst decision made for those seated around us for 14 hours, two huge burritos. And, we managed to watch a few episodes of Freaks and Geeks on her laptop. With 2 hours left before boarding, a kind worker who had been observing us from her desk perch all the hours we had been sitting there, gave us warmed chocolate chip cookies fresh off the last plane’s arrival. How nice- a cookie and a Dramamine to put me at ease.

The plane ride from L.A. to Sydney should’ve taken us 14 hours, but because just moments before departure from the gate a passenger not too many seats away from me started a nose bleed, it took longer. Instead of flight attendants handing him a tissue and saying, “Deal with it,” they called in the airport fire department’s EMT to assess the situation, and due to security reasons his checked bag had to be removed from the plane and re-scanned before he could board the plane again. This took a full hour to complete, which pushed us close to a midnight departure.

At 1:30am dinner was served; something that resembled chicken and potato mash swimming in butter. Behind me, I heard Riley ordering a glass of Chardonnay and wondered where mine went, or how I missed the message that I could order a fancy drink for free.

Somehow I fell asleep between then and 6:30am when our “snack” meal was served- stale foccosia bread slices with tomato and basil. And, only a few hours later breakfast was served at 12:30pm (Seattle time)- old eggs with a slice of dried, salty ham (probably left over from someone’s Thanksgiving). It seemed every time I woke food was placed in front of me, whether it’d be for better or worse. Thank you Dramamine, sleep eye-mask, and ear plugs for making 15 hours seem more like 5.