Day 1: Travel Day - Tāmaki Makaurau to Chicago
Nau mai
Yesterday we flew from the northern isthmus of Te Ika-a-Māui to the very large city on the southern shores of Lake Michigan.
We left on Thursday afternoon from Jon and Liz’s place in the great suburb of Avondale. Trains were flowing thick and fast along the nearby western line after the recent opening of Auckland’s City Rail Link, possibly the largest piece of passenger rail infrastructure in the world to be completed this week. Our usual mode of transport to the airport was employed: a super shuttle - a Toyota Super Hiace fitted out with the latest in passenger carrying technology, a dozen seats with three-point restraints and height-adjustable headrests. The vehicle tows a super trailer, a twin-wheeled cargo carrier with an efficient rectangular storage area and a streamlined sheet metal body to keep your baggage safe from the elements. The Mainfreight Sign was lit up, a steadfast beacon on George Bolt Memorial Drive that we could always rely on to set an intention for our period of travel. “The only thing that limits me is me”, was too individualistic for our cooperative spirit but it was easily conjugated to “The only thing that limits us is we” - and just like that we had our tour mantra, ready to tattoo on our forearms neath the much lived mantras of tours of old.
Jon was the first of our tour party to get BOTHEW points up on the board for this season. He earned a strong -1 for a false positive at Auckland Airport’s aviation security checkpoint, his backpack triggering alarms in the X-Ray machine’s internal threat database, but quickly dismissed by a human looking at the display. Jon accepted his -1 with pride, a proud scar to be worn from our eternal battle with the airport.
Liz scored next, a strong -1, her totebag full of contraband triggering a full airport lockdown until the aviation security officer could glance at the screen and dismiss another false positive.
A couple of hours later and we were in the air heading northeast across the Pacific Ocean. I managed to score a row to myself and slept through the night, stretched out and horizontal, achieving a complete miracle within modern air travel. I awoke to the smell of coffee and airplane eggs. We were approaching the southern coast of Texas, over the Gulf of Mexico. I ignored the eggs and went for the cold option, the overnight oats, topped with Vogels Cafe-Style granola. On the side was a bowl of chopped fruit and a small sealed cube of processed dietary fibre and sugars.
We landed in Houston late in the afternoon. George Bush Intercontinental Airport welcomed us with a journey through its aging corridors, passing the famous “Welcome to Houston” sign as we headed for immigration. We retrieved our luggage and proceeded to customs to operate the carnet. The border patrol officers were friendly, tossing jokes around and sporting the full range of classic law enforcement haircuts. They checked the serial number on a single item of equipment against our manifest and then gave us the big stamp of success, waving us through to the next stage of domestic transit.
We pushed our trolleys of luggage through to another area where everything was x-rayed again before being shot off into the airport’s internal luggage hive where somehow it would make its way onto our domestic flight to Chicago.
I landed in Chicago at 11pm. Everyone else was on a different connecting flight that got delayed by two and a half hours due to delays at a very busy O’Hare airport. It was chaos outside in the pickup area with the sustained blasts of car horns creating frightful intervals and chords. I went to a nearby restaurant to eat dinner and wait for my fellow travelers who eventually landed just before 2am.
Tristan tries to catch a few winks while waiting for a heavily delayed flight.
I dislike the smartecarte® mafia as much as the next person but still thought that this teabagging manoeuvre was inappropriate for a public place.
Here are the other BOTHEW points earned yesterday.
