My 2 sons who live north of me hosted me visiting their homes and we drove 5 hours from one to the other.
|And oh the good food I feasted upon!|
|I love the thrill of multple "G's" when you take off|
I was coming home and landed in Atlanta, at gate F-5. I looked on the board and my next flight was at B-5. (Why do these flights get placed all the way at the ends of the half-mile long concourses, I ask myself!)
So I started hiking. Then went down a huge escalator and took a train ride to the B concourse.
But after getting off, climbing another escalator and walking though a food court area, I looked for another board with flights listed with proper gates just to reassure myself. The one that was available was black...turned off. So I asked a man driving a passenger cart, you know that takes people to their gates if they can't walk.
He looked up my flight by number and destination, which I told him. He then said he'd give me a ride to the gate...B-5, (he had found that listed) again at the end of the half-mile concourse.
It didn't exactly save time, because he could only drive as fast as people in front of him were walking. But it was ok, because my flight was about an hour away.
I arrived at B-5, settled down and waited. The people next to me were going to Tuscon, AZ. They asked me if I was, and I just assumed they would leave before my flight, so I wasn't worried.
As another half hour passed, I nibbled on my trail mix, drank my water...and finally there was someone at the desk. So I asked when the flight to Asheville would be loading.
He told me I was at the wrong gate. )
I needed to be at gate D-5, not B-5. I said this is where the driver brought me, and he said he'd call for another one. (At no time did anyone say the gate had been changed!
I waited about 10 minutes, standing out in the walking area, looking for a passenger cart.
I then started walking, and as I went toward the trains again, I walked past 3 passenger carts parked to the side at restaurants. Everyone of them must have been at lunch by then!
So back down the escalator, onto the train, up another escalator. I happen to know I can walk a half mile in about 15 minutes, because I frequently do so. By then I was struck by some people running toward the end of the concourse, so I upped my speed, hoping I'd get to the gate in time to get on my plane.
I was really out of breath, and kind of resigned that I'd missed my flight, when I arrived at D-5, and there were a lot of people standing/sitting in the waiting area. I had made it just in time! A flight to Asheville isn't really that big. Our planes for this trip were 3 seats on one side, 2 on the other.
|We taxied past a huge plane, where 10-12 seats are across the inside compared to our 5|
So I settled happily and relieved into my seat, and when I got home to the Asheville airport, I asked where the shuttle to the long term credit card parking lot was.
The information helper said there wasn't one. I explained that I hadn't had any help when I had left for my trip at 6 am several days before, pulling my suitcase up about 20 steep steps in the dark...and wondering why there wasn't a shuttle available. I then spent a few minutes writing a complaint for the Airport management.
I'm really happy to be home!
Are we not ignoring the miracle of the human form, this thimbleful of atoms birthed in stars that is the human body, the utter gift of a human life and the possibility of it being lived fully and well, in touch with rather than ignoring our fundamental creativity and the mystery of our sentience, our consciousness, our presence here, our absolute need for each other, our ability to look in awe and wonder and in knowing, upon the universe within which we emerged and which we now inhabit?
John Kabat-Zinn, Coming to Our Senses
John Kabat-Zinn, Coming to Our Senses