Oh Delta; how do I love thee… let me count the ways…
In this 'mild' heatwave we've been having, the worst thing about travelling is the thought that you are going to get hot, bothered and sweaty on your way to the airport and then have to sit like that for X number of hours as you fly across the world in your tin can.
So this morning, I decided to plan:
First step was to carry my enormously heavy bag down to the curb and look for a yellow cab – it might only be a 15 minute walk to my office, but one that can easily induce unnecessary body heating as you cross Union Square –
$5 later and I'm safely in the AC environment of the building.
Next was lunch – an easy solution, just order in and there was no problem there.
Finally my car to JFK pulls up in front of the building, and a small exertion to get the dead body weight bag into the trunk and I'm back in the AC on the way out of town.
It's at this point that I was feeling very pleased with myself and thinking that I'd wake up in Nice the next morning feeling relatively fresh and clean… how wrong was this.
Arrival at the JFK Delta terminal and what do I see? A line of approx 200 people on the sidewalk and even overflowing onto the street waiting to check in. Of course the ever optimistic me was sure that these were people without tickets, without passports, who wanted to overheat and breath exhaust fumes in the street or at least not on the same flight as me… So I wander up to the officious looking employee at the head of the line to ask where Nice check-in might possibly be located… "You need to go to the back of this line."
Need I say more?
Let's just add that one of the call buttons was jammed on the plane, so they had to turn off all the audio system for the duration (7 hours) of the flight and although they offered free (alcoholic) drinks in compensation, at that point I'd already spent my $5.
Oh Delta – I do love you – but I'll also be avoiding you at all costs in the future – that's the way love is!