Onward to the Land of the Rising Sun...

Yeah, I’ll give you Rising Sun alright...

I was up at the crack of dawn and nervous as hell as this was my first intercontinental trip. I double checked everything before locking my suitcases, resigned to the decision that if I’d forgotten something, it was too late to get it now. Mom and Dad groggily hugged me goodbye, triple checking all that I had just double checked, and I was finally out the door with Sherman as my chauffeur in the good ol’ golden chariot.

My flight was scheduled to leave at 9:30am, and being an international flight, I was advised to get there three hours in advance—hence, the rising sun. It had snowed through the night and although the roads were relatively clear, the traffic was not and it wasn’t until about 7:15am that Sherman finally unloaded me and my bags and kissed me a long goodbye at Terminal 3.

I dragged my bags through the terminal in search of my airline, NorthWest, and when I found it, I discovered that the line up was short, yet painstakingly slow. When my turn came, I bounced up to the attendant (my past flying experiences proved that the happier I was, the less disgruntled they would manage) and proudly handed him my passport and eTicket confirmation.

    “Where are you headed?”
    “Tokyo, Japan. Unless you mean literally which means that I’m heading to Detroit first for a stop-over before leaving at 12:30pm to arrive at 4:00pm in Japan.” I flashed a winning smile. Another trick that I’d picked up while was the ditzy-trick—the more clueless you seemed, the more information they felt they needed to provide you with—I like being informed.
    “Oh. Your first flight is delayed—we’re going to put you on a direct AirCanada flight because you’ll miss your connection.” The attendant started typing into his little terminal as he spoke.
    “Okay,” I started to fumble with my itinerary trying to figure out what time my connection had been—I was fairly certain there’d been a lot of lay-over time to deal with.
    “Alright, so your new flight leaves at 1:00pm and arrives at 4:55pm.”
    “That sounds about right,” I still hadn’t found the times on my damn booking sheet. “I didn’t think I left Detroit any early than that.”
    “No, miss, you’re not going to Detroit. It’s a direct flight. Your new AirCanada flight leaves at 1:00pm, flies direct, and arrives in Tokyo at 4:55pm.”
    “I leave at one? In the afternoon?”
    “That’s right, miss. You’ll also have to make your way over to Terminal 1.”
    “Terminal 1?” Let me tell you, I wasn’t working any tricks on this guy at that point. “But how do I get to Terminal 1?”
    “I’m about to tell you, miss.”

And the nice attendant pointed out my route and sent me on my way, still struggling with all my luggage, bewildered as anything.

One P.M.

I informed Mom, Dad, and Sherman, made my way all the way (by a really cool new train) to terminal 1, found my new check-in desk (though they wouldn’t let me check my bags), found a place to settle down, wrote this here little anecdote, and it’s still only 8:23am. In fact, AirCanada wouldn’t even let me check my bags because it was still too early to do so. Dang.

I guess that’s what I get for teasing HeroCookie about his flight being delayed an hour last night. Foo.


...

Update: 12:35pm

My flight's been delayed. My 1pm departure has now become a 3pm departure. I could have just stayed home in bed with Sherman. Boo. On the brighter side, I have free internet connection and HeroCookie let me borrow his SlingBox to watch TV with while I wait! Oh, and if they delay me one more hour, I think I get free food! I heard them do it for another flight over the anouncement system, so if anything, I'll be fed. :)

Take that snow storm! (what really sucks is that it doesn't even look bad out there...)