I didn’t have time to be melancholy about our tranquil vacation concluding— I was too stressed over not exceeding the baggage weight limit. I had known about the weight limit—20 lbs for checked bags and 10 lbs for carry-on— since before our departure, and worked to reduce our weight load from the get go. Unfortunately, I didn’t account for the natural weight gain of luggage in transit.
So there I was the night prior to departure eliminating shampoo and sunscreen bottles, magazines we’d read, extra plastic bags and even 2 pair of worn out sneakers and setting out the heaviest clothes for my family to wear.
Getting dressed in the a.m. my husband thought I was kidding as I handed him heavy cotton pants, a long-sleeved shirt, a thick sweatshirt and his windbreaker to wear.
“Do you know it’s 80º out?” he commented dryly.
Sweat poured from his brow the moment my husband stepped outside. Perhaps having him suffer from heat exhaustion was not a good trade-off for our luggage accompanying us. He shed the sweatshirt and jacket and climbed in the cab and we were off.
Literally it seemed—the cab wheels nearly left the ground as the car hurtled towards the airport, or so we supposed.
We saw a sign pointing toward the airport and surprisingly, the cab driver turned the opposite direction. Could there truly be a back route? We had our answer soon enough as the cab pulled into the bus station. None of us opened a door.
“Bus station, yes?”
“No! Airport,” we responded in unison.
The driver peeled out of the bus station and now we truly were hurtling along the road. I turned to my daughter hoping she had learned a few necessities in her middle school Spanish class, such as, “please slow down, I don’t want to die on the way to the airport this morning.” No such luck, we flew along, tightly hugging the shoulder-less curves.
We all let out our breath as we turned into the airport, thankful to still be in one piece. Actually airport is a bit of an overstatement—it was more a large, 3-sided room beside a landing strip. Two pleasant surprised greeted us. First, thanks to our Mario Andretti driver, we had arrived before any other passengers; even before any airline personnel for that matter. And standing on the unattended check-in desk was a small sign stating:
All checked baggage shall not exceed 30 lbs.
“Well that’s good news,” I said turning to my husband, “You can pack the sweatshirt and windbreaker!” He and my daughters had already broken into peals of laughter.
At the airport early and underweight my worries ceased, but with my husband and children standing there laughing at me, my melancholy was not likely to return.
So there I was the night prior to departure eliminating shampoo and sunscreen bottles, magazines we’d read, extra plastic bags and even 2 pair of worn out sneakers and setting out the heaviest clothes for my family to wear.
Getting dressed in the a.m. my husband thought I was kidding as I handed him heavy cotton pants, a long-sleeved shirt, a thick sweatshirt and his windbreaker to wear.
“Do you know it’s 80º out?” he commented dryly.
Sweat poured from his brow the moment my husband stepped outside. Perhaps having him suffer from heat exhaustion was not a good trade-off for our luggage accompanying us. He shed the sweatshirt and jacket and climbed in the cab and we were off.
Literally it seemed—the cab wheels nearly left the ground as the car hurtled towards the airport, or so we supposed.
We saw a sign pointing toward the airport and surprisingly, the cab driver turned the opposite direction. Could there truly be a back route? We had our answer soon enough as the cab pulled into the bus station. None of us opened a door.
“Bus station, yes?”
“No! Airport,” we responded in unison.
The driver peeled out of the bus station and now we truly were hurtling along the road. I turned to my daughter hoping she had learned a few necessities in her middle school Spanish class, such as, “please slow down, I don’t want to die on the way to the airport this morning.” No such luck, we flew along, tightly hugging the shoulder-less curves.
We all let out our breath as we turned into the airport, thankful to still be in one piece. Actually airport is a bit of an overstatement—it was more a large, 3-sided room beside a landing strip. Two pleasant surprised greeted us. First, thanks to our Mario Andretti driver, we had arrived before any other passengers; even before any airline personnel for that matter. And standing on the unattended check-in desk was a small sign stating:
All checked baggage shall not exceed 30 lbs.
“Well that’s good news,” I said turning to my husband, “You can pack the sweatshirt and windbreaker!” He and my daughters had already broken into peals of laughter.
At the airport early and underweight my worries ceased, but with my husband and children standing there laughing at me, my melancholy was not likely to return.
1 comment :
Ummmm... Okay......... you skipped a major detail. We arrived 1 hour early whereas the normal passengers arrived just as the plane came. Not to mention we now had 40lbs to spare! hmmmmm, maby a little research is called for next time!!!!!!!
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