We have some good photos. Hundreds in fact. Ready to be sorted, they are loaded onto laptop, backed up on transportable hard drive, separate bag, just in case.
Checkin at Baltra. One case has two kilos too much. Ten dollars. I couldn’t be bothered arguing and paid up. Too hot. no where to sit. Can’t go through security as checkin staff seem to do both. They have to close check in, then go round and be a security person.
Six hour wait in Guayaquil airport. We had something to eat with Natalie and Michael that we met on the trip, before they left for their flight to Peru. A lot of people on the trip had either been to somewhere in South America beforehand, or were going on afterwards, A week each in several places. I commented to OH that I had not been frisked yet this trip. I should have kept my mouth shut. Checkin at Guayaquil is more like a rugby scrum. They do not seem to understand the queuing system. One bag has two kilos too much. The other is a kilo under. Our hand baggage is under. We have to leave the line and repack. I chuck out my trainers that have soles separated from tops. Coffee goes from checked to hand baggage. We go through another set of scanners (stand on the foot marks, hands in the air)and into the lounge. I thought I heard my name called but not sure as it is with a message in Spanish. Eventually after half an hour I go to the desk, I thought the possibility of an upgrade, but no. Passport, boarding pass are demanded. I am led off by a mildly irate security man, through a locked door and down in a lift, to open up my checked in luggage. (TSA locks). Passport checked, open up, rifle through my carefully folded clothes, repack to make it fit in again. Sign here. Boarding pass missing when I get back to alarmed hubby who just saw me being led off by security. No I didn’t have any shells. I had even rinsed my wet suit boots to make sure no sand. The desk had retained the boarding pass. My blood pressure is rising. The flight is full. 12 hour flight in cattle class with the man sitting next to me smelling like a pack of sealions. His breath would have stopped an elephant in its tracks. Food was chicken or inedible beef. I ate the pudding and had a glass of red wine. Breakfast was rubbery looking omelette and peppers. I ate the fruit salad.
No photos of searches.I didn't fancy the inside of an Ecuadorial jail cell. At Schipol the hand luggage is scanned as we got off the plane, and again before we got to the gates. We got home to find OH checked in bag has been opened, the tiewraps had been cut off. i think this must have been in the three hours we were in Schipol. I hoped they like all the scuzzy clothing. We sweated a lot on some of the hikes. Someone has played with the combination on mine, all the numbers were set to 999 which wasn't what I left it when Guayaquil had finished checking it. So in a journey home, three flights, the hand baggage was checked four times, the checked in(straight through from Ecuador) at least twice that we know of, plus one repack on the airport floor. I got put in one of those scanners twice, hubby once, and frisked down three times. The security woman in Schipol had a good feel of the underwiring on my bra. I know they’re big but honest it's all me. No room in my bra for extra kilo of drugs. My drug of choice, Chocolate, would melt.
Back at Birmingham, the little M&S food store gets raided and we head for home.
Hubby has decided that he wants to be put into an induced coma and go to bed on holiday, and wake up in his own bed at home.
I love going to new places. I hate the travelling. Beam me up Scotty.
It's always the way, the journey homes leaves you needing another holiday to get over it. It's that first cup of "proper" tea that starts healing the stress for me. Anyway, you have some fantastic memories, and as you say, time to start saving up to make some more !
thank you so much for that. I loved it all. I'm totally with you on : "I love going to new places. I hate the travelling. Beam me up Scotty. " Hubby wants to go " somewhere special " for my 60th !!! I'm only 27!!! but I can't be arsed with the travel, unless he runs to business class, which aint gonna happen. He's mentioned a month long trip to Vietnam, which appeals greatly, but not the travelling to get there, and back.
Having done the Amsterdam to Ecaudor bit in Business, and the Ecuador to Amsterdam in cattle, I have to say worth the money. If you go long haul business, you usually get a lie flat bed and the chance of some sleep. You get to the other end feeling somewhat normal, as opposed to sleep deprivation for 36 hours and feeling like a zombie for three days. I know some people can sleep sitting up, I can't.
Posts
We have some good photos. Hundreds in fact. Ready to be sorted, they are loaded onto laptop, backed up on transportable hard drive, separate bag, just in case.
Checkin at Baltra. One case has two kilos too much. Ten dollars. I couldn’t be bothered arguing and paid up. Too hot. no where to sit. Can’t go through security as checkin staff seem to do both. They have to close check in, then go round and be a security person.
Six hour wait in Guayaquil airport. We had something to eat with Natalie and Michael that we met on the trip, before they left for their flight to Peru. A lot of people on the trip had either been to somewhere in South America beforehand, or were going on afterwards, A week each in several places.
I commented to OH that I had not been frisked yet this trip. I should have kept my mouth shut.
Checkin at Guayaquil is more like a rugby scrum. They do not seem to understand the queuing system. One bag has two kilos too much. The other is a kilo under. Our hand baggage is under. We have to leave the line and repack. I chuck out my trainers that have soles separated from tops. Coffee goes from checked to hand baggage. We go through another set of scanners (stand on the foot marks, hands in the air)and into the lounge. I thought I heard my name called but not sure as it is with a message in Spanish. Eventually after half an hour I go to the desk, I thought the possibility of an upgrade, but no. Passport, boarding pass are demanded. I am led off by a mildly irate security man, through a locked door and down in a lift, to open up my checked in luggage. (TSA locks). Passport checked, open up, rifle through my carefully folded clothes, repack to make it fit in again. Sign here. Boarding pass missing when I get back to alarmed hubby who just saw me being led off by security. No I didn’t have any shells. I had even rinsed my wet suit boots to make sure no sand. The desk had retained the boarding pass. My blood pressure is rising. The flight is full.
12 hour flight in cattle class with the man sitting next to me smelling like a pack of sealions. His breath would have stopped an elephant in its tracks. Food was chicken or inedible beef. I ate the pudding and had a glass of red wine. Breakfast was rubbery looking omelette and peppers. I ate the fruit salad.
Hubby has decided that he wants to be put into an induced coma and go to bed on holiday, and wake up in his own bed at home.
I love going to new places. I hate the travelling. Beam me up Scotty.
I'm totally with you on :
"I love going to new places. I hate the travelling. Beam me up Scotty. "
Hubby wants to go " somewhere special " for my 60th !!! I'm only 27!!! but I can't be arsed with the travel, unless he runs to business class, which aint gonna happen.
He's mentioned a month long trip to Vietnam, which appeals greatly, but not the travelling to get there, and back.