Archive | October 2023

Golden Friends Travel Day 1

“What’s on my mind?”  Well, I’m not sure I have a mind at the moment.  Yesterday, I started my trip to Savannah and the southlands.  The first time on a plane in years; first time of travelled alone in years; first time I’ve travelled any distance since COVID.

I should have guessed months ago that there might be issues with this trip.  I booked on Southwest Airlines with whom I have a zillion reward points only to learn that my account has been locked for some farkakteh reason that I’m still fighting with them about.  But the timing of the flight was the only reasonable one out of Albany to Savannah, so I paid for it, and will continue to raise hell with SW until they give me my money back.

Fritz took me to the airport to arrive by the 2-hour ahead-of-time, and the requested wheelchair transportation from the check-in to the gate was not materializing.  So I walked myself to TSA, got in the pre-check line instead of the “real people” line, and nearly had a panic attack when I realized my mistake.  But the entry agent was a sweetheart and let me through as if I were pre-checked.  What else was good about that was that I didn’t have to offload my laptop, e-reader, or bag of liquids.  My cane they put through the x-ray machine.  The checker on the conveyer told me I had to 75 to keep it.  “Well, I’m 74 ½,” I said.  He didn’t even crack a smile. But everyone at TSA was really helpful, helping me collect my stuff, find a chair to put my shoes back on and speaking encouragement.  I schlepped down to the gate and waited.  When a gate agent showed up, I asked him about my wheelchair and he fixed my reservation so that I had good transportation arriving in and leaving from Baltimore and arriving in Savannah.

The plane to Baltimore flew over our house in Guilderland and I waved. Then the clouds closed in.  They opened in time for me to see the Tappan Zee Bridge cross the Hudson and then south of Philly at the headwaters of Chesapeake Bay.  There were beautiful views from there to Baltimore.  The 737-800 is a cramped, uncomfortable aircraft that was having pressurization problems – oh, my poor ears.  I was in the first boarding group so got to see the whole array of people getting on board.  There were 3 people on the plane wearing masks, and the other two joined me in my seat row!

I eventually got luggaged to the new gate, where very kind people asked how I was doing, did I have my boarding pass, did I need any additional assistance.  The 737-700 out of Baltimore, was a luxury aircraft.  Much wider seats, great leg-room and only about 80% full, so we had lots of empty middle seats, including the one I was in.  I had my favorite window seat a few rows behind the wings, port side.  Those seats are noisy, but I love the contrast of the view of the ground and the closeness of the trailing edge of the wing.  There were too many clouds to see much but their fluffy whiteness, but I had knitting so I knitted and was happy.*  We landed early in Savannah, around 4:00 pm, only 6 hours after I arrived at Albany airport.  This was after the flight crew had announced that we were beginning our “descent and final approach” into “Charleston.”  Then the real fun began.

There was a plane in our parking space.  So we sat and we sat and we sat until that plane decided to taxi away.  Then the wheelchairs were late.  That didn’t bother me too much ‘cause I was sitting near the back of the plane and needed everyone else to get out first. When the “wheelchair pushers” (yes, that’s what they call them) arrived, a really nice young man took care of me.  Trundled me to baggage claim, retrieved my very heavy checked bags from the carousel and then drove me and the bags to the Avis line to get my car.

Now, I ordered this SUV about 3 months ago, to assure I had a familiar vehicle for all the diving I’m going to be doing, so I thought “piece of cake.”  So, first I got in the “preferred” line because I didn’t know that Budget and Avis are the same company.  That unmoving line had about 8 people in it.  When I realized (was informed of) my mistake, I went to the end of the very long line of regular Avis/Budget customers.  There must have been 30 people in that line and to say it moved at a snail’s pace would be generous.  After standing for a half-hour, I’d had all I could take and sat down on the floor, where I stayed until I got to the front of the line, some 2 hours later.*  The couple from Miami Beach, who were behind me in line, moved my luggage, kept up the banter, and were wonderful to be around. 

The guy had gone next door to both Hertz and [the other one] to see if they had cars.  Hertz had full size SUVs for $400/day.  The other one had trucks and mini-vans for $300/day.  A few people got out of line and took up those offers. Unfortunately, most of them were behind us.  When I finally got to the counter, the sole woman who had been on duty the whole time, informed me that they were still looking for my car, and she was waiting for a call back from someone to find out my status.  I told her I could not stand at her counter any longer, and would either return to the floor, or go to a chair away from her counter were she would have to find me.

She told me to please take a chair which did.  There I had a conversation with some really angry Cleveland Browns season ticket holders who had been waiting even longer that I had, and would have been able to watch their team win, had they taken a later flight.  Sometime later – I had stopped keeping track – the Avis desk person came over to me and told me that they could “get me out of there right now” if I would take a luxury car instead of my SUV, and, of course, for an upcharge.  No, thank you, I need an SUV.

So I waited some more. Eventually – I had stopped keeping track of time by then, except I knew it had gotten dark, and I had so wanted to get to my hotel in daylight – she came over and told me to come to the counter, they had my car.  Yeah.  Contract signed, keys delivered, car is in space G5. Dragged my boatload* of luggage to G5. The car barely classified as an SUV.  A Lincoln MKC.  Rather small and it has bucket seats, which I wanted to avoid and was partly why I ordered and SUV.  Also very low to the ground like a sports car.  But I was able to open it and get into it, and found that the driver’s seat is very adjustable, and that I could get in and out of the car!  My four pieces of luggage barely fit in the way-back, but barely was good enough.

Then I tried to start the car.  There are no keys, only a fob with various kinds of locking and unlocking codes.  I look and look and look at the 3,000 control buttons on the steering wheel and the dash, and find nothing that says “start.”  Now, I found, and understood, the controls for the cruise control, the lights, the windshield wipers/washer, the adjustment of the outside mirrors, the heat and A/C, the Bluetooth for the phone, the plugs for USB power cords, and the navigation system (!!) (so I didn’t need to buy and bring that phone mount anyway. . .).  But no way to start the car.  So I have to trudge back inside to get someone to help.  And I can’t lock the car.  I horse around with the locks for more minutes, and every time I think it’s locked and check the doors to make sure, it opens.  OK, if someone steals my stuff while I’m inside, I’ll sue Avis!

Trundle back inside the terminal, behave like a raving maniac, crying, interrupting the line that still has 30 people in it, and finally finding a nice woman who asks me to come back to my car with her and she’ll help me.  Back to space G5 we go.  She tells me I have to put my foot on the brake and press the “start” button.  “But I can’t find the start button.”  It turns out, neither can she.  At least for a while.  It turns out the start button is on the dashboard next to the navigation system, along with the PRNDL buttons that substitute for a gear shifter, which thankfully, the nice young woman pointed out to me.  AND, it turns out that I had actually locked the car.  It’s just that if you go near the car carrying the fob, it automatically unlocks.  I better guard this fob with my life.

And now it’s almost 8:00 pm and Giants-Buffalo game that I have been looking forward to all day has already started AND I must check into my hotel by 9:00 pm or I lose my room, and my pre-payment in full.   I chose the Carole Motel because it was “near” the airport and not $175 a night.  Near is a comparative term.  As the crow flies it’s probably less than a mile from the airport; as the roads go, it was around 10, including about 150 railroad crossings. 

As I was driving there, it occurred to me that the hotel was in the middle of the huge port of Savannah, which was an exciting fly-over on the way in, with more containers and container ships than I’ve ever seen, with has lots of trains and truck depots.  And it’s dark, and not many streetlights and at 30 mph the navigation system says “turn now” when it’s too late to slow down for whatever turn you have to make.  Turn here, turn there, turn the next place, and the last one before the motel, I missed.  “Recalculating.”  And then I missed the motel driveway, too, but at least that was an easy fix, and by then there was absolutely no traffic.

Mandy, the sweetheart (?) at the check in is very surprised to see me.  “I thought you weren’t coming!”  And then apologizes because the room “they” assigned me “isn’t a room for a lady,” and she has to finish cleaning my room and making the bed.  I prepaid the room, but they then collect an additional $50 damage deposit.  Oh well.  I’m tired and football game has already started.  Mandy finishes making the bed, cleaning the bathroom, and turning on the A/C.  I tell her to wait on the A/C and that I’ll turn it on when I need it.  Then the keys – these electronic cards that you wave over a reader.  It takes us a couple of trips to get two cards that work.  She gives me all her phone numbers in case I have a problem. . .

The room – I should have taken a picture, but I was too tired – is tiled in large grey and white Mexican tiles.  On the floor, the walls, the ceiling, the closet, the bathroom, everywhere except the wall behind the bed, which is one huge mirror, reflecting the entire room.  There is one very stained dining room chair, a rickety table, two oval well-used mid-century modern dressers, and a full-sized (!) refrigerator.  No microwave, no coffee maker, no lamps, and only one outlet in the room, that cannot be reached from either the queen bed, or the table.  There are two ceiling lamps, one with a pink bulb and the other with a black light!  There is a TV on the wall opposite the foot of the bed.  OK that will work, maybe, if I can fluff up the two tiny pillows enough and keep them from sliding off the mirror.

I leave the door open while I empty my car and then close it and the windows, ready to unpack and settle in for the night.  I haven’t eaten so start looking for delivery places.  But no one who is open delivers to this motel. . .  I go to turn on the air conditioner which is high on the wall next to the bed.  I need to stand on the iffy chair to turn it on.  Then I take the car down to the Food Lion a half mile away to buy some food.  I mean, gee, I have a full-size refrigerator.  The Food Lion is remarkably functional, and I’m able to get some yoghurt, some hummus, some pumpkin seeds, some cheese and meat things without too many unpronounceable ingredients, and a couple of rice crispy treats. 

When I get back to the motel, having been gone maybe 20 minutes, the A/C is off and the room in an oven.  A sticky oven – this is the South, remember, on the seashore.  I turn the A/C back on.  It runs for maybe 3 minutes and shuts off.  I try this a few times with the same result.  I call Mandy and she tells me the repair person is on vacation (or some such B/S) and gives me a couple of options for a fix, none of which work. 

So, OK, I’ll be hot; I’ll watch the game and fix this tomorrow.  But the remote doesn’t turn on the TV.  Maybe the batteries are dead.  I replace them with some batteries I had just installed in my flashlight.  No joy, but the removed batteries worked in the flashlight. . . I feel around the TV for manual controls, but there aren’t any.   I call Mandy again.  She promises to do something.  I call Fritz and cry on his shoulder.  He tells me that the Giants are up 3-0 at the end of the first quarter.  Wow!  Something good has happened.  Wow!

After 15 minutes on the phone with Fritz, still no Mandy and I’ve turned the A/C on about five times.  I decide that discretion and my health require that I take the hit for the $200 I’ve paid these people and find another place to stay.  I search the area and find a Wyndham property out the road near the Food Lion.  I call them and a lovely front desk person fixes me up with a room.  I confirm with her that the room has A/C that works, a television that works, a refrigerator that works, a microwave, and a coffee maker, that work.  It’s a king for one, but that’s what they have.  Expensive, but what’s the price of a good night’s sleep and good health and energy Monday.

The front desk woman asks what hotel I am coming from, and I tell her.  She has a slight frown and tells me I’m not the first one to come to this hotel from that one. 

I got to watch the Giants blow time management at the end of the first half, and blow the game in the second half, when they could have beat Buffalo down to the last 2 minutes or so.  But I’m so exhausted that I forgot to put the “do not disturb” sign on the outside of the door, so at 9:00 am today, housekeeping is banging on my door.  In my frustration, I yell at her.  I don’t see her later but apologize to the people at the front desk.

It looks like a beautiful day today, but I’m taking it very, very easy.  My friends are arriving tomorrow, and I want to feel well for them.

—–

*Side notes: (1) If you carry a sealed water bottle on an aircraft that flies at 34,000 feet, try to remember what happens when you open the nozzle without releasing the pressure first.  About half-way through the Baltimore to Savannah leg, I decided I needed a drink and opened the nozzle.  Water flowed upward in a glorious fountain, hitting the ceiling of the plane, and then spattering back down onto me and my seat and my stuff.  Of course, I began to laugh hysterically, and was very grateful that no one was in the seat next to me, which was also wet.  My seatmate in the aisle seat was sleeping. Praise the lord for small favors.

(2) As I am writing this note, I realize that I was sitting on the floor in a public building in “THE SOUTH!” for several hours.  I genuinely hope that I didn’t acquire cockroach larvae, or any other ugly bugs. . .

(3) Boatload of luggage.  I have been dealing with long COVID for more than 18 months now, and I had cancer surgery on my left hand in July, and have back pain from walking a lot of the time.  I am having intensive and long-term PT/OT on my hand to relieve the effects of the scarring.  Oh, yes, and I am also being treated for periodontal disease that I think was probably caused by COVID that needs many bulky tools.  I am going to be  travelling to two distinct climates on this trip, if I survive the first week.  So I have all the tools to monitor my post COVID health, the vast quantity of “stuff” that I need to care for my hand and keep up the healing, the multiple tools I need for my teeth and mouth, and clothing for summer and late fall.  As well as three pairs of shoes, my hiking sticks AND my cane – hiking sticks must be checked, to so couldn’t use them in the airport, necessitating bring the cane as well.  At any rate before I got any clothing packed, I had filled one giant suitcase and a mini-case with meds, protheses and mouth cleaners. Then it turns out that the carry-on I’ve been using for years is OK for Southwest, but is too large for any other airline, and since I don’t know how (or when) I’m getting home, needs to be checked in all directions.  So another carry-on to take a change of clothes, a book, keys, 3-oz liquids, my laptop and other things that can’t be checked and you get the picture.  So the girl that travels with one carry on, a fanny pack and one checked bag, has four huge pieces of luggage this trip. . .