Blog 2: “A pet goat, perhaps?”

Today was the day I was definitely going to India, January 25, 2010, whether I got to take my scheduled route or be rerouted through some different airports. We left our house once again for the Detroit airport, but instead of my mom, Krista’s mom joined us. Oh, and we did not go to Moe’s Southwest Grill. Instead, my final meal outside of the airport in America was Moe’s leftovers. Awesome.

We got to the airport and instead of parking in the Big Blue Deck I was just dropped off outside the terminal. This was in an attempt to shorten the regularly scheduled Emotional CryFest 2010 from 30 minutes down to a respectable 4 minutes. I walked into the terminal, waved to give one last goodbye and walked up to the ticket counter. The agent from yesterday immediately recognized me and gave a quick wave and acknowledging nod. I smiled back and gave my passport to the nearest open agent. She printed my tickets out, enrolled me in Lufthansa’s frequent flier program, and told me the location of the Lufthansa business lounge. I made my way through security and was all set in less than a half hour. I was amazed at how quickly I got through this terminal, especially considering when I flew out of the older terminal this one replaced I waited over 45 minutes just to get to the front of the security line. I felt like I was in line at Cedar Point for Millennium Force – “30 MINUTE WAIT FROM THIS POINT.”

Well, now that I was on the other side, the only thing to do was find the bathroom, then check out this business lounge. After aiming my stream at the little bullseye stickers they placed in the urinal for me, which for the record is a job I am glad I do not have, I headed out to the business lounge. Wait no, after washing my hands with soap and water and singing “Happy Birthday” to myself to make sure I washed long enough, I headed out to the business lounge. Okay, you caught me; I didn’t sing “Happy Birthday” to myself. I just washed with soap and water and then I headed out to the business lounge.

The business lounge is pretty sweet, but it was only the prologue to the novel that was my experience in business class on Lufthansa’s international flights. I walked in, handed my ticket to a lady behind a desk and she directed me to the right. There was something going on to the left, but apparently it was not for me. I guess that side is for first class, maybe? Let me just say though, that if my entire experience is what Lufthansa gives business class passengers, then I cannot imagine what they give first class passengers. A pet goat, perhaps? Well, if that is it, I am glad I did not fly first class.

Inside the business lounge was an array of comfy looking chairs, seats, and some tables all arranged in columns and rows. At the front, there was a snack bar with various goodies like [insert food here] salad, mini breadsticks, crackers, etc. I was a little disappointed by the spread at first, but hey, it was free. I looked to my left and found a fridge offering different Coke products and, duh duh duh, beer. I grabbed myself a Warsteiner (my choices were Warsteiner or Sam Adams) and headed back to my seat and improved my winning percentage in FreeCell. Take that King icon that watches my cursor’s every move.

Another traveler entered the lounge and sat next to me. He walked up to the Buffet of Slight Disappointment and came back with this pasta stuff that I completely passed over while I was up there. After doing two or three double takes at the pasta tossed ever so delicately in a tomato sauce with diced chicken sprinkled throughout for good measure, I got up with a mission to find this pasta. Mission: Pasta Find ended fairly quickly when I found one of those banquet style metal serving trays built into the counter. There it was, the pasta I had longed for (for 12 seconds) displayed with a peppy little bowl of shredded parmesan next to it. Peppy? What a terrible adjective to use there. I grabbed a Sam Adams this time and sat back down to eat the pasta. Let’s just say that the Buffet of Slight Disappointment turned into the Buffet of Slight Fantastic-ness featuring That Pasta Stuff.

I wolfed down two bowls of the pasta, feeling satisfied and ready to fly. I gathered up my belongings and headed to the gate. I took a seat and called Krista and my dad. I told Krista of the glorious pasta and she, as the veteran Germany-bound Lufthansa flier, reminded me that Lufthansa would be feeding me on the plane as well. Oh boy, I get to eat more? This could be a problem. It ended up being a small one, but I’ll get to that in another blog.

The announcement came overhead that it was time to board. The gate agent called business class and I looked down at my ticket. Seat 15A, here we go.

Blog 1: “…and they both chuckled a bit amongst themselves.”

Welcome to the blog chronicling my exploits in Chennai, India. I was hesitant about doing this because any other time I have tried to utilize the Internet as a forum to express myself and only myself, AOL deletes my 5 years of hard work or I just get bored with it and stop doing it. Let’s hope that does not happen this time. In fact, the only reason I am doing this is because I was poked and prodded into doing it. By poked and prodded, I mean Mark said “You should blog about your trip.” So here I am…

I guess it only makes sense to start at the beginning, which was January 24, 2010. I was all packed and ready to head up to the Detroit airport with Krista and my mom. Since my mom had never had Moe’s Southwest Grill and because I have an intense love affair with Moe’s Southwest Grill, we decided to stop at one in a Detroit suburb. It only makes sense that I have Moe’s before I leave the country for approximately 38 days. After a half-hearted “Welcome to Moe’s” greeting, two Funk Meisters (one with steak, the other with chicken), and a basket of free chips and salsa, we were on our way to the airport.

We pulled into the Big Blue Deck next to the brand spanking new North Terminal and park the car. It is funny how “brand spanking new” can change depending on the context. The North Terminal is about a year old or so now and I still call it brand spanking new. Those Jelly Bellies that have been sitting in my Jelly Belly dispenser for the last year or so are not so brand spanking new. In fact, they have a slight stale-y funk about them. But I digress.

I unpack all of my luggage (one 59.5 lb blue rolling suitcase and my laptop bag) and start to the terminal. My mom and Krista come with me so we can have Emotional CryFest 2010 or something before I head through security. As we are walking across the bridge from the parking lot to the terminal, I notice on some monitors that my flight has been delayed a bit from a departure time of 6:59PM to 7:05PM. That would be all fine and dandy except for the fact I have a connecting flight to catch in Frankfurt, Germany. Add on top of that, the layover in Germany is only an hour so I’m already nervous about making it.

I get to the ticketing booths and a nice young lady greeted me. I handed her my passport, she says “Final destination: Chennai, India?” I responded in the affirmative. She looked over at one of the other ticketing agents and they both chuckled a bit amongst themselves. She turned back to me and said, “The flight to Frankfurt is currently on a 50 minute delay.” I then asked her if there was anyway I would make the connecting flight and she informed me that the maximum they ever make up in the air for that particular flight is about 25 minutes… So no.

I was taken over to another agent because they had a couple options for me. I could either, come back tomorrow and take the same flight and hope there would not be another delay OR I could take the flight that would be leaving the gate late, hop a flight to Mumbai, then get to Chennai. Waiting the extra day or hopping on a couple different flights, both would have gotten me into Chennai on the same day, a few hours apart. Plus doing all the flight hopping would have me taking lengthy layovers in both Frankfurt and Mumbai, neither of which I wanted to hang out in very long. My boss and I agreed, I should just wait the following day and if we run into the same situation, then I would just do the Detroit-Frankfurt-Mumbai-Chennai flight.

So, I went home and watched the Jets lose and the Saints win. I think you can tell what matchup I was hoping for in the Super Bowl this year.