June 1, 2016
The Goo Goo Dolls. Steve Perry. Pearl Jam. Air Supply. The Santiago Airport is jamming to the 70s, 80s and 90s US hits. After a delirious trip through a mood-lit Bogota airport onto my flight to Chile, I’m feeling particularly time warped.
The trip started with me miscalculating the tram system at Orlando International Airport. I thought we could go back to the main hub and hop over to another spoke of gates and enjoy the United Club access my credit card sometimes grants me. Unfortunately, the tram back to the hub gave us only one option – to go out and back through Security. International flights weren’t offering the TSA PreCheck option so we had to go through the long line of screening – shoes off, toiletries out, claustrophobic cattle chutes. There’s been a lot of press lately on the TSA lines and I hadn’t really experienced it due to my TSA PreCheck status. But having gone through the security line TWICE in as many hours makes me think TSA may be the most hated government institution – moreso than the IRS, congress, or the DMV.
Avianca as an airline was underwhelming. Their seatback entertainment system was ungodly slow – one of those things where you press a button, nothing happens for 30 seconds so you press again… and again… like you’re standing at a cross walk jamming the signal button repeatedly under the mistaken impression that the more times the button is pressed the faster the light will change in your favor. In this instance, a few minutes after the initial movie selection the system would kick in… but a few minutes later the next button you pressed long in the past would catch up. Out of phase and out of order. Frustrations built and ultimately I chose to watch a 60s sci-fi movie on my iPad.
Mom was able to eventually get the games section to work … and then she went to work! For the first time ever, I saw someone win the “Who Wants To Be A Millionaire?” mobile app. Who wants to be a millionaire? More like Who IS a millionaire!
As I’m prone to do on these jaunts, I snapped a few pics of the food options. The “pasta con carne” I went with wasn’t a spaghetti bolognaise as I thought it would be but was in fact beef stroganoff. On the plus side, the roll was a “top score” item – albeit I would rank it no better than middle of the pack.
On our layover in Bogota, my scratchy throat prompted a quest for an “helado” ice cream. We found one at a Burger King that was so slow at processing orders that they handed out beepers for patrons to be notified when their food was ready. It took about 15 minutes for our “dos sundaes chocolate” to be ready… and I opted to go with “grandes” instead of the smaller, “pequeno” option. These sundaes cost 9800 Colombian currency – I have no idea how much that is. I put it on my CapitalOne card that features zero foreign transaction fees. Could be a huge sum, could be small. I googled the exchange rate before I left but math hasn’t been my strong suit since the Reagan administration.
An endeavor to get online in Bogota proved a wild goose chase… or should I say a wild dummy chase?
I never cracked that code, neither for the WiFi password nor even the code of where to look. I examined the Duty Free mannequins thinking they might have the passcode tattooed onto their De Milo-ish armless figures. Alas, no luck on that.
We’ve now arrived in Chile and made our way through immigration and customs. There was supposed to be an agent to meet us upon our exit but I think we were too early for that service. We checked in for our flight to Isla de l’Pascua (AKA Easter Island) and are sitting at the gate.
There’s free WiFi here so I’m trying to take advantage and get some things posted before my flight. Logging into the system, the ingles version fails to connect but if you stay with the espanol page, you can connect.
Kenny Rogers’ “The Gambler” is playing over the PA system. The chorus is one of those truly universal mantras:
You’ve got to know when to hold ’em
Know when to fold ’em
Know when to walk away
Know when to run
You never count your money
When you’re sittin’ at the table
There’ll be time enough for countin’
When the dealin’s done
