Goin’ Anywhere Again? by Dee Taylor

Goin’ Anywhere Again?

(Observations of a physically infirm 73-year-old bellyacher who is assessing his international travel future).

Just back from our Norway cruise. It may be the last. The sights and the accompanying family members were great, but the pre and post trip headaches made the risk to my sanity outweigh many of the joys of travel. For me, International travel has become akin to going to football games and concerts, but much worse. Better on TV. Too much hassle for my frail body and impatient mind. I’ve been fortunate to do a lot of travel in earlier years but the zest is waning as my age waxes.

It used to be so easy. Show up at the airport and get on the plane. Then I remember when hijackings started. We were living in Guayaquil, Ecuador, and to get on planes they began checking your carry-ons for knives, bombs and guns. It wasn’t so bad then, but things escalated from there and it wasn’t long until we all became suspected terrorists subjected to TSA’s improprieties. That’s where my frustration with air travel began. Thanks, Jihadis. But that’s not all.

Getting ready for a trip demands a week of assembling the stuff you’ll take. Climate compatible clothes, ditty case items, electronics, books to read, day -of-flight clothes, extra set of clothes in carry-on bag in case your checked bags are lost, backpack with medications for an extra week, snacks, and miscellaneous items for the flight. Also, CPAP machine, and travel documents. How much cash should we take? My wife would say she does all this for me and I shouldn’t complain. Probably true. Her system is to pack any items which conceivably could be used for a six-month leave of absence.

OK, the documents. Passports, not a problem though for some reason you have to make sure they don’t expire within six months of travel. Visas, if necessary, can mean a visit to an agency for paperwork. Airline and cruise fares require dealing with travel agents and cruise companies to select seats, cabins. Online registrations always prove more difficult than you think and inevitably you hit the wrong key and lose everything or can’t get to the next screen. Online pre-check-in is the same thing. You never know whether it works or not because something freezes up. Sometimes, you get one of your kids to help out. Forget about talking to a real person with the airlines unless you’re willing to remain on hold for two hours. Then, the clincher. Even if you spent hours on the computer trying to do this stuff, you find all of it can be done at the airline check in counter anyway.

These days you have to get a covid test 48 hours prior to takeoff, certainly an imposition. What if you are positive? Forget the trip. Go through all the hoops to get your money back. Some people, like my wife, think this is all fun and part of the adventure—an addition to family lore that will humorously live forever. Most of her family, some older than we, don’t give it a second thought. They seem like my golf crazy brother-in-law. In my golfing days with him, I swear the nearer we got to a golf course, like Pavlov’s dog eyeing a piece of meat, you could see saliva dribbling down his chin. Travel is something like that for them.

These days, it’s suggested you arrive at the airport at least three hours early. That’s after you’ve spent at least an hour reexamining and loading up your bags for your trip to the airport. Once there, you unload, wheel your bags inside, and stand in the check-in line for an indeterminate amount of time. You slowly drag/heft your bags to the ticket counter and scales. You stew as you’re behind a large family with twelve bags. A wheelchair is ordered and you wait for that to come. Make sure you’re carrying some tip money for your aide because you know you have up to a mile of concourses ahead of you. Are you TSA prechecked? Being pushed in a wheelchair accelerates passage through TSA as you try to maintain a dour and pained expression. You know that some passengers in the long line you are eclipsing wonder why you get exceptional treatment. You don’t dare eye contact with them. But you still have to unload all your gear including phone, laptop, CPAP, wallet, little bag around your neck that carries passports,
boarding passes and global entry cards. Also, backpacks, shoes (I don’t wear a belt any more), and anything in your pockets. Our two tripod canes are balanced on my lap and are subject to who knows what. After x-rays and a pat down, we feverishly gather up all our things before the next trays arrive on the conveyor.

After reassembling ourselves, it’s on to the Delta Lounge. Oh, oh! Did both of us bring our $550 annual fee AMEX cards to get in? Here, you can relax and get some good food for a couple of hours before heading to the gate. You might have to get another wheelchair when it’s time to board the flight. If the flight is delayed, you wait longer and worry whether or not you’ll be able to make a connection. If you have priority boarding, the process is usually not a drag except occasionally for getting carry-on bags in the overhead. A nine-to-seventeen-hour flight ensues. Do NOT fly economy and make sure you have reserved an aisle seat. Meals, snacks, reading and movies make the time pass faster, but sleeping is hit and miss, mostly miss. Upon arrival you may have long taxiing and a wait at the gate. If lucky, a wheelchair will be waiting and you pass through Immigrations in lines that may require slowly shuffling forward for an hour and getting past a surly, poker-faced agent who looks at you with suspicion and stamps your passport. Then, through the throngs of travelers, it’s off to the conveyors where you collect luggage. Sometimes, one of your bags doesn’t make it. Maybe you finally find it but if you don’t, you go to file a claim at the airline luggage office. Word to the wise: Stay away from Heathrow airport in London. After accounting for all your possessions, you assemble with other passengers of your group and board a transfer bus or a taxi for up to an hour’s trip to wherever you’re staying. In the case of a cruise, you’re taken to a spacious check-in area where you may stand in line for a while to have your cruise documents checked, attest to your health and have your picture taken. Do not joke and say you feel sick. Now with your boarding credentials, it may be a long walk/ride to get on the ship. You could have walked to Phoenix by now.

As I fall onto the bed in the ship cabin, I am exhausted. Unpacking is not fun. I am not eager to explore the ship because I’ve been on it before. Food is not up to snuff (although the presentation is exceptional) and most of the entertainment is not my thing. Maybe I’ll try the casino. Service people on board are usually great. Spa treatments are expensive and, but for the disgust of my wife, I would be there all the time.

Getting home? It’s the same thing all over again, except on this cruise I contracted covid near the end with a distressing case of vertigo. Exiting planes on the jetways, I was bouncing from one side to the other. Luckily the US doesn’t require entry tests anymore. Otherwise, I’d still be in Amsterdam.

I think my bucket list of unvisited international destinations can be mothballed. Why not travel in the good ole USA? I think that will be my plan. Can I convince my wife?

Dee Taylor