International flights used to be the hallmark of an aristocratic travel experience in the modern era of overseas adventure in the post-nautical world. That hallmark, to put it lightly, has significantly declined. In fact, I’d suggest that cattle and other livestock get conducted to their slaughter destinations in a more humane manner if only calculated a value-based equivalency.
We arrived at the airport on time and on point for our 12:55AM flight with plenty of time to make it through the stately velvet mazes of check in and security without much of a problem and settled in to wait for the boarding call. Of all the luck the Cos Cob (CC) Ziac offspring got their seats upgraded, we were in pre-boarding and everything and then, if you will excuse the profanity, it all went to shit.
Everyone’s phones starting blowing up and there was a rumble through the masses. The flight had been delayed for 12 hours. One half of a day. Connections were going to be missed. Events. There were tears.
In an unfortunate sequence of timing, Emily had just taken her formidable formulary of flight-relaxation medications. It was like watching a toddler whose parents want to stay at Disney too late to squeeze out the last drops of value while having this drunken sailer in tow. She was doing her best.
To make a long story short, we were offered hotel rooms in New Jersey, an hour a way plus a 40 minute wait for a bus. Doing the math, we decided, albeit after exiting security, to just hunker down at the airport like affluent homeless at the Port Authority.
Papa really embraced the look. I was worried that the airport staff was going to come by and poke him with a stick or something, to make sure he was alive.
Fortunately, the promised delay was what it was and by noonish we were on our way to Doha. I would like to reiterate at this time that I suspect that cattle have more comfort in their passage to the slaughterhouse. Nevertheless, we arrived safely at some unknown time of day. I would try to do all of the math, but frankly, it’s exhausting.
The Doha Airport is incredible. I recommend having a delay there instead. We may be proud of the renovations at JFK and LGA, but they cannot hold a candle to the opulence of the airport in Qatar. First off, you can buy a duty-free BMW super car. Or, just gold. Second, there are prayer, quiet, and smoking lounges. It is clean. How do we know all of this? Well, due to missing our initial connection we had another 12 hour respite in the Doha airport, which is certainly adequate time to draw some comparisons.
Blessedly, the rest of the trip was on time and we were able to make it to Johannesburg by morning. We were a little groggy but truly looking forward to the true commencement of our adventure in Africa.
Safari in the Crucible of Humanity 