Back and refreshed from my first overseas adventure, I realize that I cannot put off my beloved blog anymore. I will share with you a fraction of my experience in Ireland in this entry and hopefully much more of the trip after it. But before I can share of my wisdom gleaned and joy from Ireland, I must do my best to share with you my first learning that occurred before we ever stepped on Irish soil.
Generally speaking, I am a positive thinker - I can say with sincerity that I am a "glass is half full" kind of person. However, when I travel by air, I turn into a much different person - I am about as pessimistic and uptight as they come. I am a Class A “Worry-Wort,” constantly anxious about all those things that could go wrong. My wife, thankfully, is the opposite and can handle airports and all the challenges like a seasoned pro. At the same time, this strength of hers makes my weakness quite apparent and this trip truly exposed me for who I really am when it comes to traveling the skies. So, here is my confession - a glimpse into my mind just two weeks ago on the day of my first international flight to Ireland.
Our flight was set to depart Washington Dulles airport at 7:15 pm on Wednesday, November 14th. We were meeting my parents at the check-in counter for Aer Lingus (who flew to Dulles from Minneapolis earlier that day.) I took the day off to finish the last minute details - like looking for new shoes because the word from my brother in Ireland was that New Balance shoes were not a good idea for footwear while in the land of green. This tip caused a temporary rage the night before our departure as both Rebecca and I owned New Balance shoes - and I was crestfallen to learn that my favorite sneakers wouldn't be making the trip with me. So, after finding a new pair of Sketchers, we were set to head for Washington DC Dulles International Airport. I of course, did not want to take any chances, so we left promptly at 1 pm to avoid all of the unforseen problems that would surely derail us.
One minor traffic slowdown did affect our time, however, we arrived close to our destination in excellent time. By "close" I refer to the site of my first nervous breakdown, when the curse of DC loomed overhead and I was sure we were going to get lost trying to find the hotel we were leaving our car at. One wrong turn and a small verbal outburst later, we were at the hotel with plenty of time to spare. I was a bit wound up and my wife was already trying to coach me back to cool, calm and collected - but we both knew that it was only going to get worse by the time we reached the airport. Checking in to the hotel and arranging the shuttle went over relatively well, not smooth enough to calm me down, but well enough that we were on the van towards the airport in less than 15 minutes.
We arrived and began searching for my parents near the Aer Lingus check in counter. It took us a few minutes to locate, and it seemed every employee we asked was useless - but, alas, we met up and were ready to take on the rest of the airport in no time at all. I was able to communicate my unease to my parents, who sympathized because they were feeling the same way - so I knew where I had gotten this condition from.
Everything went smoothly from check-in until security, which was about 15 minutes. I was a bit unnerved because Rebecca and I realized the night before that her passport was in her maiden name but our tickets were in her married name. We were told that having the original marriage license with us would allow us entrance through everything. Somehow no one even noticed through all the checkpoints, so I was at ease about that at least. By the time we reached the biggest challenge of all – airport security – I was feeling better. I knew that there was the possibility of being searched and all that, but being that we were well ahead of schedule and the ridiculously long lines went quickly, I was okay.
My Dad and I took what appeared to be a shorter line while my Mom and Rebecca went to another line. The race was on. As we went through, I heard and saw airport security aka “them” talking about my bag and then saw them take it off for a closer look. I was not worried, it was probably an empty water bottle or something. I looked across and saw that we were way ahead of the ladies – which felt good. Next thing I know, I am putting my shoes back on and picking up my things. And then I hear this: “Hey, call the supervisor!” from one of “them.” My bag had made it through okay, but to my horror, Dad’s had not.
We stood and observed the supervisor arrive and get approached by one of them. Then, not knowing what was happening, the supervisor was showing my Dad a sizeable knife and asking if it belonged to him. I cannot describe the shocked disbelief we both displayed at that moment. I remember groaning, “Dad? What the - ?” and thinking that surely someone had planted this thing in his luggage. My Dad would never let such an item into his bag intentionally. This could only be the result of some cruel joke or terrorist subplot…and then something dawned on me as we both stared dumbly at the 5 inch blade and waved off any desire to mail it home – this carry-on belonged to my mother, and my dad was simply carrying it for her. Case closed – my mom was the culprit – and she was going to hear about it. Later, talking to my Dad, he clued me to his thinking at that moment – which, of course, was on par with my own: “I thought I was done for – interrogation room, here I come. I thought I might as well forget about Ireland.”
Despite all this, we still made it through security ahead of the ladies – but, because of our utter humiliation and numbness to the knife incident, we took our time putting our things back together. Upon reuniting with them, we wasted no time describing the crime that had taken place and that we were blaming it entirely on my mom for ever happening in the first place. Her response? “So THAT’S where my pearing knife was!” Ahh yes – she had been using the luggage previously to travel by car and had simply not thought to empty it out completely before using it for an overseas destination. Oddly enough, the knife made it past airport security in Minneapolis, making us all shake our heads in disturbance.
I was able loosen up after that, the strangeness of that incident had us all laughing to relieve the terror and tension it had caused. There was still of course the strain of catching connections and wondering about our checked luggage still ahead, but making that first flight to Dublin was the biggie by far. I was pleasantly surprised to discover the long flight would not be restless and boring by any means – and much to my wife’s disdain, my 1000 page book in the carry on luggage was probably not needed after all, for we were greeted with personalized screens on the seats in front of us containing loads of cinematic, television and miscellaneous selections to entertain from beginning to end. Once airborne, I could finally relax for the first time – and I felt my glass looking half full once again.
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