Crews Letter #2003 02 International Travel is Soooo Glamorous!

 

 

Good Morning Ladies and Gentlemen:

 

The story you are about to read is true.  Some of the names have been changed to protect…  You know the drill.  None of us are innocent.

 

The original premise was that AANTBN, an American airline not to be named, flew JFK à Istanbul.  Recent international events and economic changes changed that.  The current AANTBN connection US à Istanbul involves either TC#1, Transfer City #1 à Paris or TC#2 à Paris and FANTBN, a French Airline not to be named, Paris à Istanbul.  The connection at Paris, Charles de Gaulle, was doomed from the beginning.  By the schedule there appeared to be two hours: arrive 0850, depart 1050. 

At the Dallas AANTBN counter, Leo the Drool, the softest, slowest, least animated ticket and check-in processor imaginable explained that he could only book us to Paris.  Because we were stand-by, FANTBN would not allow us to be ticketed until we were there.  We would have to collect our baggage and check-in for the Paris à Istanbul flight. 

Leo the Drool was able to charge us for our excess baggage and assured us that we had paid for it all the way to Istanbul. 

Yes, we did take back a bit more than the normal passengers on two week holiday.  What kind of stuff?  Gatorade mix for 60 gallons of Gatorade.  A case of lemonade mix.  2 cases of cheese and crackers, 72 packages total.  60 packets of hot cocoa mix.  20 feet of 1 ½ inch (38mm) impermeable tubing for the head solid waste exhaust.  A garden hose on its own roller.  3 cabin fans.  A Defender and 2 West Marine catalogs.  A box of Clorox.  Vitamins and prescription drugs for 6 months.  ½ dozen paperback novels, 4 engine manuals, and a Turkish Dictionary.  A complete Iliad, some Jimmy Buffet, Asterix and Dr Seuss.  Charts for the Turkish coast.  6 pounds of peanuts.  Rib rub, baking powder, and Ranch Dressing mix.  2 computers with miscellaneous connecting wires, zip disks and CDs.  Liquid bath soap.  Lotions.  Spice rack.  Cup holders.  Cuzzies.  Folding dish rack.  Trash bag holder.   Spare oil (4) and fuel (2) filters.  Mast and boom hardware.  A complete Dremel.  2 thermo rest mattresses.  A set of king size sheets.  Dallas & Texas souvenir t-shirts

Yes, we had excess baggage: 297 pounds in 5 large duffle bags and one shipping box from France. 

 

If you want to get the attention of any airport customs officer, pack some of your stuff in a box.  If you want to get the attention of a French airport customs officer, use one that came from a French moving company and has lots of French printed on it.

The officer notices our collection of luggage as we push towards the “Nothing to Declare” door.  He asks to see our passports.  We hand them over, never considering trying to make a dash for the door.  We explain that we are on the way to our boat in Turkey.  We are only changing planes in France.  By then, we know that we are staying the night.  The next flight is tomorrow.  He hands back the passports and says, “Excuse me sir, what is in that box?”

“Hose for the toilettes’ exhaust, … fans for the cabins, … a blocker for a halyard,  …”

“You are the skipper?”

“Yes.”

“Hose for the toilette?”

“Yes, both of them.”

“You may go.”

 

The trip to TC#2 was uneventful.  The weather in Dallas had threatened thunderstorms all day and it would have taken only one at takeoff time to disrupt the TC#2 connection.  The plane left on time, arrived on time.  We had nearly a ten minute wait before being seated in 1-B&C.

 Thank you, Gail Widget.  The only way to fly across the Atlantic is in the front class of a big plane.  Thank you, Gail.

We were the last to board and this plane pushed off on-time.

 

Day 2 – The plane arrived at Charles de Gaulle 30 minutes late.  It is interesting that when the wheels touch the runway, the flight personnel announce that we have arrived. The plane drives around the airport for awhile and stops out in a field.  The bus comes to pick us up and drives around the field some more. The bus lets us off at the terminal.  This is where we made a mistake.  We didn’t take the bus.  A man came on board on the starboard side of the airplane and said, “Everyone going to Istanbul or Kiev come with me.”  It sounded like us.  We all slipped out the starboard door and got in a van.  He raced around the field and he led us in a backdoor, up an escalator and to a check-in counter.  It was the closest path to the plane we wanted on, but we hadn’t stopped by the right places to get there.  Our problem was uncovered.  We didn’t have tickets and we didn’t have luggage.  We were sent to the FANTBN Correspondence (transfer) desk.  This is a place for misplaced souls, a long line of disgruntled flyers.

Fortunately, we dealt with a woman who was not yet reflecting the disgruntled nature of these customers.  We already knew that the only FANTBN flight to Istanbul for that day had left.  If the opposite of disgruntled is gruntled, we were gruntled and resigned to the fact that we would stay over and try to be on that flight tomorrow.  She told us how to stay on the correct side of Passport Control, collect our luggage and that we should come back to this terminal two hours before flight time tomorrow.  Flight time is another interesting concept: the schedule says 1050, FANTBN thinks that means 1005. 

On a whim, we asked if any other airline flies to Istanbul.  Maybe we could buy a real ticket.  She looked it up and told us that Turkish Air, this airline can be named, has two flights daily from Orly.  It is 1 ½ to 2 hours by taxi from Charles de Gaulle to Orly.  There is a train and a bus.  Remember, we are the people with 297 pounds of luggage.  We are too late for either flight.  And by the time we learn that tomorrow’s flight is full, we will be too late again.  At this time, tomorrow’s FANTBN flight looks ok.

It is back out the backdoor and back around the field by bus to another terminal to collect our luggage.  Immigration, passport control, was not a problem.  Some bath soap was leaking from one duffle bag.  All 6 had made it.  We were happy.  Customs were cleared and we moved in at the Ibis Hotel.  On and off an airport shuttle with this much luggage - we filled the center rack – was a workout.  Getting it in and out of a hotel room was no small task either.  A quiet day and night was helpful in overtaking jet lag.

 

The duffle bag that was leaking soap had to be opened, rinsed out and reassembled. It had been sealed by HLS, Home Land Security. 

An interesting Catch 22:  You cannot take sharp objects on the plane.  If HLS opens your bag to inspect the contents, they seal it with a wire tie that can only be opened with a sharp object.

This duffle bag was a lethal collection of stuff.  The Gatorade mix is packaged in aluminum foil / plastic pouches.  There are 12 pouches in a plastic bag.  One of these was in this duffle bag.  A portable computer and 48 zip disks was in this duffle bag.  The 3 bottles of bath soap shrink-wrapped together as they come from the manufacturer were in this duffle bag.  The remaining space was padded out with miscellaneous lady’s undergarments, a camera bag with camera and miscellaneous computer wires, an engine operations manual and a file folder of paperwork.  One can only guess the excitement of the underpaid, under trained, junior minions of HLS when he saw this stuff on the x-ray screen.  We are lucky they didn’t blow it up.  Instead, they opened the duffle bag.  It was not latched, only zipped shut.  They cut the shrink wrap that held the soap lids secure.  “Oh, this is soap!”  They cut small slits in the bag and pouches of Gatorade.   Destroying two was enough.  “Oh, this is Gatorade!” Put all the stuff back in the bag with their “We inspected your luggage form” and sealed the zipper with a plastic wire tie.

Perception’s engine manual will smell of lilac and citrus for years to come.  Soap and sugar make a strange sticky.

 

Day 3 – We were back at Terminal 2B by 0705.  At the FANTBN counter the man called the AANTBN desk and was told that we could not get tickets.  Phyl sat with the luggage and Fred walked to the AANTBN counter in Terminal 2C.  The first explanation was that only the agent in Dallas could issue the tickets. Fred asked if there was a way to get back to Dallas to get the tickets.  The second explanation was that because Leo the Droll in Dallas had made a mistake, the computer would allow this agent in France to issue the tickets. 

We suspect that Leo knew exactly what he was doing: drool, yes; stupid or careless, no.

The French agent was also encouraging.  There are several seats available on the flight today.  It is overbooked for tomorrow.

Fred rejoins Phyl in Terminal B and we check-in for the flight.  By 1005 they have us all on the plane.  Two Gendarmes with big guns come onboard and escort one man in cuffs off the plane.  This leaves two or three seats vacant.  At 1050 the plane is pushed back and we are on to Istanbul.

 

The connections at Istanbul and Dalaman were without incident.  A night in the hotel at Marmaris.  A short drive to Yat Marine.  Perception is where we left her and in good condition.

We are home.

 

Keep a Tight Luff,
Phyl & Fred

 

 PS:  The ladder leaned up against the stern of the boat slipped Sunday afternoon.  Fred rode it down.  It was about a 2 meter ( 6.5 foot ) fall.  He sprained both ankles and broke both ends of his left forearm.  The ankles are self curing.  The arm is in a cast.  We will be waiting in Marmaris for another doctor’s release.  Estimated time, 4 weeks.

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