I’m a fairly seasoned traveler. I’ve gotten on and off of a lot of planes, trains, automobiles into and out of a lot of hotels. One might think that I’m so seasoned, I’ve got dates, time changes, reservations and these check into-check out of things down, right? One would be quite wrong. I have a fantastic record of screwing travel related things up. Here’s just a few of my many (mis)adventures in travel:
I was headed back to Afghanistan for another run in the sandbox and was in the Turkish Airlines lounge in DC. My flight was on Lufthansa metal, going first to Frankfurt, then to Dubai. I thought I had plenty of time and the Turkish lounge is one of the best in Dulles. I was enjoying my time there, noshing on the delicious food and perhaps enjoying an adult beverage or two. I strolled out of the lounge and to the gate (which was right next to the lounge) and heard my name being frantically called. Alan Taylor, final boarding call, Alan Taylor, please come to the gate immediately. Then I strolled right on to the plane as if I didn’t almost miss my flight. These days, I’m usually in the pre-boarding group so I don’t repeat that genius move.
The next hiccup didn’t include hearing my name shamed over the airport loudspeaker. It was several years later. I was still in Afghanistan and was going to meet Gwyne in Bangkok. There was one commercial flight from Afghanistan and that was to Dubai, it got in the morning and my flight was that night at 2130. I found a cheap place to stay in Bur Dubai where I found a biryani wallah and whiled away some time in the souks for the afternoon. I got to the airport super early to the airport (due to my *ahem* errors in my past) and was told check in was closed. What did I do this time? The flight was due to leave at 2130. I was living on a military base at the time. I managed to somehow get in my head that 2130 (9:30) was 2330 (11:30). I had to find another place to stay in Dubai that night and paid $50 to change my ticket for the next day. I got in to Bangkok a few hours later than Gwyne. I also had to call her and fess up to missing my flight. Brilliant, right? But wait, there’s more!
Biryani in Dubai
Back to name shaming. I was going to Haneda through Los Angeles. All Nippon Airlines (ANA) was my ride for that flight. They are Star Alliance partners with United and I’m very much married to that network. I booked my ticket through United and showed my passport from wherever I was initially coming from, but ANA in Los Angeles needed to see it again. Alan Taylor, Alan Taylor, please report to the gate. They just wanted to see my passport. All good. But no one likes hearing their name called in the airport.
Star Alliance network. In a marriage, sometimes you can experience a little bit of turbulence. I made a reservation from Istanbul to Belgium, Belgium to DC, DC to Huntsville. All reservations made with my United cc on United’s site. Turkish Airlines is a member of the network. I had a separate record locator code for Turkish, had made a seat selection on their network and got to the airport more than 3 hours early. It was Covid times and I had one of those nasty brain stabs that was good for that day only. I walk to the business class line, show my passport, and they said, “You’re not on this flight.” First name Alan, last name Taylor? Who? Here’s my UA record locator number. No. Here’s my Turkish Airlines record locator number. No. United did me dirty. I asked if there were any seats going to Belgium, they said the flight was sold out and then I asked them if they were flying anywhere else in the US that day. I bought another ticket to Houston, where I didn’t really want to go. I don’t think that mistake was on me, but it added to me being a pretty nervous traveler.
Laos. A repressive communist country. I was there on a visa run and was through the first security, second security and then immigration. I was getting ready to settle in the lounge and then heard it. Again. Taylor. Alan Arthur Taylor. Taylor. Alan Arthur Taylor, please return to the check in counter. I had to surrender my passport (I had already been punched out of the country) and make my way back through security. My bag was on the ground at the counter and they just pointed and said, “power bank.” I took it out, fumbled my way through security and got my passport back. It was okay in the end, but you know, in Laos? A little unnerving.
Laos. Where they still use a palm frond for a broom. That’s where I had my name called in the airport.
This is by no means a complete account of my travel foibles. There’s more. There’s so much more. But I’ve got it down now, right? Smooth air ahead? More like smooth move, ex lax.
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