The Rest of the Story

We should start with some facts: 1) our house is three hours from the airport 2) our flight was at 9:45pm 3) nothing ever goes as planned.

So we had a truck scheduled to haul our 17 bags and a driver for our car scheduled to arrive at 3:30.  We were loaded and ready for departure 6 hours before our flight time.  Plenty of time to get ourselves there and check-in early since we had so much extra luggage.

When we left home we hit some traffic.  We expected that.  But then we just stayed in traffic.  The 30 minute drive out of town took an hour.  When we reached the point that was an hour from the airport, we were already three hours into our trip.  We sent a text message to our luggage driver.  He was approximately 45 minutes BEHIND us (even though he left 20 minutes earlier).

We arrived at the airport at 7:45, still two hours early. No problem.  Except the luggage was still 45 minutes away or would arrive around 8:30 or 75 minutes before departure. The sweat starts to roll.

We ask the airline what to do.  They say, "Check in and explain your baggage is on the way." So we check in and use the word for "17" in various languages to explain that 5 people have that many bags.  The airline asks how far away the bags are.  The driver says, "10 minutes."  So I tell the airline, "Around 5 minutes." Then they say go wait for your bags and bring them in ASAP.

Outside Craig stands with 3 porters watching, pacing, sweating, pacing, calling, worrying. Finally the bags arrive at 8:47 or less than an hour before our departure.  Sweat is pouring.

We rush inside where the bags need to be x-rayed as they come in the door.  Guess what!  The kind gentleman wants to know if we have "invoices" for all our stuff.  Uh, no.  "Yes, invoices from when you bought it," he says. "Its from America," we answer.  Then he decides he needs to look inside a few bags.  I think, "Bless your heart, brother."  After he confiscates a few things, he lets us go.

We race to the check-in counter and begin the weighing process.  Now, we are about 850 pounds OVER our weight limit (no exaggeration).  But the incredible guy gets us down to a reasonable amount and tells Craig to hurry and pay in another location and then hurry back here.

So Craig runs.  Runs.  To the other location, credit card in hand.  While waiting the guy from check in comes to say, "Hurry," in English.  We hurry and sign and get our stickers, etc.  Then he says again, "Hurry to the gate."   So now Craig is sprinting through the airport to the family only to find Caleb missing.  He is having stomach trouble and had to go to the restroom.  Which is often 10 minute walk away in this airport.  

So now Craig is running to the restroom to collect Caleb.  Then both are running back to the family.  Then we see a bright spot.  An inspection spot that has 100 Asians in line on one side has NO ONE on the other!!  Zoom, we are through one check point.  Zoom, we are through another.  Now the WHOLE family is running through the airport.  Flip flops and Crocs are flying off.  Kids are crying. Sweat is pouring from Mom and Dad.

We run down the hallway and find our gate.  Make one more security check, go straight to our seats and try to catch our breath.  Its 9:25!!  We did it!!!

So we are buckled and taxiing and getting our instructions and Caleb says to Dad, "Hudson is vomiting."  Since we are moving and the stewardesses are locked in, he has to endure it for a bit.  Then the only clothes we have are Bethany's, so he has to wear hers for our arrival.

Then as we go through another customs post (with 17 bags) the man steps in front of cart 1 (of 3) and says "Maybe you have something you want to declare?"  Umm, not really.  "Do you live here?"  "We are moving here."  OK, welcome!  And that was the end.  Whew.  We made it.