Now to continue The Trip: Day 2 from the lounge at Frankfurt International Airport.
After the tipping stroller fiasco, Noah of course had to go to the bathroom. Much to his glee the toilets in the lounge bathroom had automatic flush sensors, or "eye's" as he calls them. But there was more. Next to the manual flush button there was another button that said "sanitize". When he pressed it a small box emerged from the base of the tank, lowered itself onto the seat, and the seat began to rotate. The box sprayed cleaning solution on the seat as it spun around, then used a squeegee to dry it. When complete, a little light on top of the tank came on indicating that it had been sanitized.
Noah was amazed. He had to watch it several times before I could drag him away. When I finally got him back to our table in the lounge, he explained the whole thing at a frantic pace to Luanne using mostly "Noahisms" and wild gestures. After he finally paused long enough to take a breath, he boldly asked Luanne if she had to go potty so she could see "the hand" on the toilet, and when she declined, he announced to the 15 people within earshot that he had to "go poops".
At this point I'm pretty sure we had endeared ourselves to everyone in the lounge.
Nothing else major happened before we boarded the flight, just the normal child herding and a few small things:
• Micah ran into the kitchen and made friends with the staff. He came out with a giant muffin in hand.
• Noah fell on his bottom while running around and cried for a while.
• Micah tipped over an older lady's luggage while trying to show her his pacifier.
• Both boys slobbered all over the windows while watching construction cranes lift things around a worksite.
Boarding the plane was uneventful. We got everything organized at our seats, both boys buckled in, endured the unsure stares from the other business class passengers, and it was time or takeoff.
Of course, as we were taxiing to take off, Noah had to go to the bathroom. I asked a flight attendant who initially said he would have to wait, but reconsidered when she saw the look on his face and evaluated the alternative. So we ran to the bathroom and took care of business. Noah ran (against my pleading) back to his seat and about 10 minutes later we took off.
Once we got up in the air, he had to go again. This was no more than 15 minutes since the last trip, and we were still ascending at a pretty good angle. Not asking for permission this time, we quick-stepped it to the front bathroom (uphill). As I was reminding Noah not to run back to his seat he took off at a full gallop (downhill). He went shooting past his seat, tripped, and did a full-frontal belly slide about 4 feet down the aisle. Again, an eruption of sobbing and tears. After a little consoling he was fine, with nothing more than a rug burn on his cheek to show for it.
Both kids fell asleep within the first hour of the flight; Micah while watching his silent cartoons on the in flight system, and Noah watching the same but with sound. They both slept for a good 4 hours of the trip. We fondly refer to that time as the "Wonder Hours".
When they woke up we found that Noah had wet through everything he was wearing and thoroughly soaked seat 15C. I took him to the bathroom and changed him into some shorts and a t-shirt, trying my best to conceal the damage from the rest of the passengers. He spent the rest of the flight sitting on a cloth napkin.
When Micah woke up he was recharged and ready to go. We had to either give him a little more leeway to walk around and interact with people or endure his screams of "No! No! No!", and we chose the former. He actually managed to find a few folks who would play with him, one being an older German gentleman who would steal his pacifier and then give it back. A few minutes into the 2nd or 3rd iteration of this game, Micah ran up to him, pacifier in hand, and threw it right in the guy's face. Luckily he thought it was funny.
While trying to find the thrown pacifier the German fellow managed to knock his drink over into the lap of the passenger next to him who was much less amused at the fun and games. It didn't faze Micah's friend one bit though, and after a short break the games continued.
That was really the end of the incidents on the flight from Frankfurt to Chennai. Landing was no fun as both kids were screaming to get out of their seat belts, but at the point there's not a lot you can do except wait it out. And wait we did, with two screaming kids, until every last passenger got off the plane.
Once we collected the stroller and got things organized we set off into the airport to get through customs, find our baggage, our driver, and our apartment.
As we were walking into the airport from the jetway Noah kept asking me if we were in India or not. I kept telling him yes. At the end of the hallway, right before we entered the airport proper he waved to an Indian solider standing guard and said "We're in India!" That got a smile out of him.
Noah was pulling his wheeled carry on, and Micah was carrying a yellow lunch box that he had gotten as part of the Lufthansa kids program. It looked suitcase-size in his hands, and he was getting a lot of looks and laughs. The customs areas was crowded with locals, and we got to be the quasi center of attention for the first time as the kids messed around and we juggled our bags and stroller. Customs took about 10 minutes.
There's an additional step before you get your checked baggage at Chennai where you have to put your bags through a scanner and walk through a metal detector. I'm not sure what it's for, but Noah took the opportunity to tell another Indian solider that we were in fact in India. Noah was then insistent that he help the soldier lift Luanne's carry-on up to the conveyor belt. The soldier played along, and Noah said "Thanks, bye" and we went on our merry way.
Current Stress Level: Low
Getting our bags off the baggage claim was pretty easy. Things were getting a little crazy as the population density increased, though, so we circled the wagons (stroller and two baggage carts) and I would fetch bags and bring them back to our little stronghold. There was an endless stream of people that wanted to help (for a tip), but we kept them at bay until a Lufthansa rep came over and offered to help us as part of their complimentary airport baggage service. We collected the rest of our bags and headed out to find our driver.
Things get a little crazy once you exit the airport. There's a fence that people have to stay behind while waiting for passengers to arrive, and it creates about an eight foot wide path that runs parallel to the airport for about 50 feet or so. That's where all the drivers wait with their signs, as well as cabbies and cars for hire who want to pick people up and take them for a ride (both literally and figuratively). It's usually stacked about seven or eight people deep that I've seen.
I decided to have Luanne and the boys wait inside the airport as I walked the line and located our driver. That way he could help with the bags and make the walk out into the general population as easy as possible. I've found that when you have a local helping you, others who would normally pester you to help or hire them leave pretty much alone. I walked to the end of the fence and saw nothing with my name. I walked back to the airport, and still nothing. So I walked back into the airport (and ruffled some Indian soldiers making sure no one entered the exit door) and we waited for a few minutes. Another walk, and still no driver.
For reasons I can't recall, we then left the airport with our caravan of people and things and took a position near the end of the fence. Our Lufthansa helper left us, and there we sat.
After the tipping stroller fiasco, Noah of course had to go to the bathroom. Much to his glee the toilets in the lounge bathroom had automatic flush sensors, or "eye's" as he calls them. But there was more. Next to the manual flush button there was another button that said "sanitize". When he pressed it a small box emerged from the base of the tank, lowered itself onto the seat, and the seat began to rotate. The box sprayed cleaning solution on the seat as it spun around, then used a squeegee to dry it. When complete, a little light on top of the tank came on indicating that it had been sanitized.
Noah was amazed. He had to watch it several times before I could drag him away. When I finally got him back to our table in the lounge, he explained the whole thing at a frantic pace to Luanne using mostly "Noahisms" and wild gestures. After he finally paused long enough to take a breath, he boldly asked Luanne if she had to go potty so she could see "the hand" on the toilet, and when she declined, he announced to the 15 people within earshot that he had to "go poops".
At this point I'm pretty sure we had endeared ourselves to everyone in the lounge.
Nothing else major happened before we boarded the flight, just the normal child herding and a few small things:
• Micah ran into the kitchen and made friends with the staff. He came out with a giant muffin in hand.
• Noah fell on his bottom while running around and cried for a while.
• Micah tipped over an older lady's luggage while trying to show her his pacifier.
• Both boys slobbered all over the windows while watching construction cranes lift things around a worksite.
Boarding the plane was uneventful. We got everything organized at our seats, both boys buckled in, endured the unsure stares from the other business class passengers, and it was time or takeoff.
Of course, as we were taxiing to take off, Noah had to go to the bathroom. I asked a flight attendant who initially said he would have to wait, but reconsidered when she saw the look on his face and evaluated the alternative. So we ran to the bathroom and took care of business. Noah ran (against my pleading) back to his seat and about 10 minutes later we took off.
Once we got up in the air, he had to go again. This was no more than 15 minutes since the last trip, and we were still ascending at a pretty good angle. Not asking for permission this time, we quick-stepped it to the front bathroom (uphill). As I was reminding Noah not to run back to his seat he took off at a full gallop (downhill). He went shooting past his seat, tripped, and did a full-frontal belly slide about 4 feet down the aisle. Again, an eruption of sobbing and tears. After a little consoling he was fine, with nothing more than a rug burn on his cheek to show for it.
Both kids fell asleep within the first hour of the flight; Micah while watching his silent cartoons on the in flight system, and Noah watching the same but with sound. They both slept for a good 4 hours of the trip. We fondly refer to that time as the "Wonder Hours".
When they woke up we found that Noah had wet through everything he was wearing and thoroughly soaked seat 15C. I took him to the bathroom and changed him into some shorts and a t-shirt, trying my best to conceal the damage from the rest of the passengers. He spent the rest of the flight sitting on a cloth napkin.
When Micah woke up he was recharged and ready to go. We had to either give him a little more leeway to walk around and interact with people or endure his screams of "No! No! No!", and we chose the former. He actually managed to find a few folks who would play with him, one being an older German gentleman who would steal his pacifier and then give it back. A few minutes into the 2nd or 3rd iteration of this game, Micah ran up to him, pacifier in hand, and threw it right in the guy's face. Luckily he thought it was funny.
While trying to find the thrown pacifier the German fellow managed to knock his drink over into the lap of the passenger next to him who was much less amused at the fun and games. It didn't faze Micah's friend one bit though, and after a short break the games continued.
That was really the end of the incidents on the flight from Frankfurt to Chennai. Landing was no fun as both kids were screaming to get out of their seat belts, but at the point there's not a lot you can do except wait it out. And wait we did, with two screaming kids, until every last passenger got off the plane.
Once we collected the stroller and got things organized we set off into the airport to get through customs, find our baggage, our driver, and our apartment.As we were walking into the airport from the jetway Noah kept asking me if we were in India or not. I kept telling him yes. At the end of the hallway, right before we entered the airport proper he waved to an Indian solider standing guard and said "We're in India!" That got a smile out of him.
Noah was pulling his wheeled carry on, and Micah was carrying a yellow lunch box that he had gotten as part of the Lufthansa kids program. It looked suitcase-size in his hands, and he was getting a lot of looks and laughs. The customs areas was crowded with locals, and we got to be the quasi center of attention for the first time as the kids messed around and we juggled our bags and stroller. Customs took about 10 minutes.
There's an additional step before you get your checked baggage at Chennai where you have to put your bags through a scanner and walk through a metal detector. I'm not sure what it's for, but Noah took the opportunity to tell another Indian solider that we were in fact in India. Noah was then insistent that he help the soldier lift Luanne's carry-on up to the conveyor belt. The soldier played along, and Noah said "Thanks, bye" and we went on our merry way.
Current Stress Level: Low
Getting our bags off the baggage claim was pretty easy. Things were getting a little crazy as the population density increased, though, so we circled the wagons (stroller and two baggage carts) and I would fetch bags and bring them back to our little stronghold. There was an endless stream of people that wanted to help (for a tip), but we kept them at bay until a Lufthansa rep came over and offered to help us as part of their complimentary airport baggage service. We collected the rest of our bags and headed out to find our driver.
Things get a little crazy once you exit the airport. There's a fence that people have to stay behind while waiting for passengers to arrive, and it creates about an eight foot wide path that runs parallel to the airport for about 50 feet or so. That's where all the drivers wait with their signs, as well as cabbies and cars for hire who want to pick people up and take them for a ride (both literally and figuratively). It's usually stacked about seven or eight people deep that I've seen.
I decided to have Luanne and the boys wait inside the airport as I walked the line and located our driver. That way he could help with the bags and make the walk out into the general population as easy as possible. I've found that when you have a local helping you, others who would normally pester you to help or hire them leave pretty much alone. I walked to the end of the fence and saw nothing with my name. I walked back to the airport, and still nothing. So I walked back into the airport (and ruffled some Indian soldiers making sure no one entered the exit door) and we waited for a few minutes. Another walk, and still no driver.
For reasons I can't recall, we then left the airport with our caravan of people and things and took a position near the end of the fence. Our Lufthansa helper left us, and there we sat.
Current Stress Level: Medium
It's hard to explain, but there's so much "stuff" going on, so many people, so many things, and all of it unfamiliar and different than anything you've seen before that it's a pretty serious sensory overload. Even if you've experienced it before but have been away for a while, it's a bit of a shock. And there we were with no way to even move all our stuff, and certainly no way to get to our apartment.
Luckily I had three cell phones with me. Of course one was a US phone that wouldn't work, so I wrote that one off. The next one I found was my Chennai local cell phone that I had picked up before the trip. I couldn't charge it before we left since it has a 220V plug on it. Of course, it was completely dead and of no use. The final phone was an international phone that I had checked out from the travel office "just in case". Well, "just in case" was here and I was glad to have it.
When I opened it, I found that it was already turned on, and the battery was blinking at me. Apparently I had forgot to turn it off the night before in Germany. Crap.
I fumbled around till I found my US phone, turned it on, found the number of an Indian manager I work with in the US, and dialed it on the international phone. I blurted out the details and hung up after he said he would take care of it, and to hang tight. About five minutes later my phone rang once, his name popped up on the caller ID, and then it died.
So again, there we sat with everyone and their brother trying to get us to go with them in their cab (none of which were capable of carrying 12 pieces of luggage plus 4 people plus 1 stroller). Luckily we were able to maintain a little personal space due to the fence keeping people out of arms reach, but we had nothing else to do but wait and assume things were taken care of.
After five minutes went by people were getting a little more aggressive. At the ten minute mark I started to look around for a receptacle to plug my phone into, and contemplated going back around into the airport to see what I could do.
Current Stress Level: High
At about the 10+ minute mark the rest of the passengers from our flight had already left the airport, and we were the only game in town. Cabbies were starting to venture to the other side of the fence to get our attention, and we were doing our best to ignore them, be nonchalant, and keep the kids occupied. Just when I thought someone had gotten the gumption to come over to us and grab a cart, I realized it was our driver (by the big placard he had with our name on it) and an assistant swooping in to grab our stuff and get us out of there. If it was socially acceptable I would have kissed him. We shook hands instead.
They handled the carts while we pushed the stroller. Noah refused to ride in it, so we had to keep him very close which is never an easy thing. Our car was a medium size SUV with a luggage rack on top, and it was still a squeeze. The stroller had to go in the front seat, and I distinctly remember worrying that they were wrecking something when it took them three tries to smash the rear door shut.
The manager that I work closely with here was the one who got the message from the US that things weren't going well, and after getting the drivers on the right track he stopped by the airport and found us to make sure we were being taken care of. That was nice, considering it was after midnight.
The drive to the apartment was uneventful, and the boys fell asleep as soon as we got the doors shut at the AC going. At the apartment the "domestic help" brought all our bags up for us, gave us the keys, a plate of fruit, and left us to unpack and go to bed.
We got to sleep at about 4:00am after hanging up some mosquito nets and getting a few things organized. Little did we know what we had in store for us the next morning...
2 comments:
Love reading these updates. I hope you keep them up. You've got a knack with words.
Wow, travel like this sounds like the seventh circle of hell to me. You guys deserve medals!
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