I'm Here ...

So … is there anything more intimidating than LAX at night when you have to travel from one terminal to another? My travel connections, this time, courtesy of aeroplan, were not the most convenient. Try YYC, YVR, LAX and finally HNL. My layover in LAX was something like 12 hours BUT encompassed the 12 hours from 10:00PM to 8:00AM the next day. The gate agent in YYC was not enthused about checking me through to HNL because the flight was the next day and in fact refused to get me a boarding pass. Fortunately for me the gal looking after the Maple Leaf lounge in YVR was much more disposed to the “service” part of service agent and she went to the effort of getting me the Boarding pass which turned out to be a vital cog in the wheel.

There is something terribly, terribly intimidating to getting off a plane in a busy airport at night, knowing full well that you will be staying at the airport. As soon as I de-planed I looked for an information board that might tell me where my next gate would be. No luck, so I approached a gal who seemed to be directing people somewhere but believe it or not, she had no idea as to where United Airlines (UA) practiced their sorcery of moving people from one place to another on the planet. She suggested that I call the 1-800 number – that seemed totally ridiculous to me, especially since I didn’t have US change in my pocket. As I was exiting the terminal I asked a security officer how I might get to a different terminal, knowing in the back of my mind that there must be a shuttle system. The security officer told me to take the escalator “down” and I followed directions and I found myself outside the terminal in a milling crowd of what seemed like hundreds of people who all knew where they were going, plus five lanes of traffic. - All very intimidating.

Next stop – police officer who told me to go to the median, stand under a blue sign and wait for a shuttle bus marked A. After a few minutes a large bus stopped, opened their doors and I hopped on. “Do you go to terminal 7?” “Yes”, in heavily accented English. Nestling down in the plastic seat with just my back pack I began to relax until I realized that I had been in a similar situation and the bus driver had given me similar assurance BUT had not bothered to inform me when the destination was reached, resulting in me making three full circuits until he realized that I seemed to have taken up permanent residence on his bus.

Leaning forward I asked: “Will you tell me when we are at the correct terminal?” … “Yes”. In a few minutes we arrived at the correct terminal, I jumped off the bus into the seething, roiling mass of humanity, only to find myself in a hoard of people seeking their luggage from various carousels. No ticket agent, no one identifiable as an authority of airline. I wandered a bit until it dawned on me that what I needed to do was get to the level where passengers passed through security to various gates – clearly I needed an “up” to match the “down” of terminal two.

The escalator led me to a bank of sever self-serve ticket machines, no agents. Finally I followed a ribboned corridor to a series of agents standing beside scales and yet, interestingly, there was no invitation to approach the various agents for assistance. Finally, in a very un-Canadian way I simply stepped up to a counter and said “Excuse me can you tell me what gate UA 081 will load from”.

Horror of horrors the flight didn’t leave until the next day (I knew that already). Not only was the agent unwilling to provide a gate because “it might change by tomorrow”, she strongly advised against going through Security as my Boarding Pass was for tomorrow – they would not let me through. Best I sit on the formed plastic bench at the departure ticket level near the doors.

Being a good littlie “do-bie” and Canadian I docilely sat down … for about five minutes, thinking “Man … all night here … this really sucks” ….. Up I get, to the Security line I go, they look at my Boarding Pass, note that I am “early” and I am whisked through in no time. An electric cart later, I find myself at the 70’s gate, thinking to myself if the plane leaves from the 60’s it will not be a big deal to slip down another chute. My flight was not listed until around 3:00AM but I have to say there was something much comforting being by big windows where I could watch a number of flights land and leave than sitting on a sleazy, formed plastic bench just off a busy, busy road. So my trip to HNL began …. 36 hours between sleeps, maybe longer but … I’m here!

Tonight I am off to a Pot Luck with some of the local Women in Aviation gals – should be a good time!