It wouldn’t be an intercontinental flight without a few bumps along
the way. I decided that the cheapest (albeit not the easiest) way to fly
to Thailand would be to fly with Southwest (bags checked free, yay!)
from Tampa to San Francisco. Despite the 8 hour trip to get there, it
wasn’t too bad, but most likely because its Southwest and they are
undoubtedly the greatest. Free bags, pick your seats , check in online
and boarding on a logical first come first served basis. And the crews
are always hilarious! No, I’m not getting paid for this endorsement, I
wish. *waves* hey Southwest, I’ll be your PR girl!
But I digress. I arrive in San Fran and have to pull off my bags to ten around and check them again in my international flight. Again, not the easiest way to do it, but whatever. My bags show up! Round one- success! But wait- I see a large stain on the front of my brand new luggage. It smells like coconut. AWESOME, my sunscreen, which of course happens to be an oil, why wouldn’t it be any less messy, has sprung a leak and is all over EVERYTHING. You’re probably thinking I’m a moron for not putting it in a plastic bag. Wrong. I thought of this scenario, it happened to leak through the bag as well. Shit happens, whatever. I locate and remove the offender and toss it - something else to buy later. I’m still in relatively good spirits, my bags both made it after all! I go to pull the handle to roll away in peace, and find that it’s stuck. No matter- ill just unjam that sucker. But to no avail.
Normally, this is would not be an issue, but I foresee me having to lug this fifty pound bag through god knows where Thailand. (Ah, in hindsight I now realized why they suggest packing light. In all fairness to myself I managed to only bring a giant camper backpack and the now broken luggage. Just two for ten months! I’m so proud)
The lady in baggage claim issues (worst job ever, am I right?) kindly informs me that she can’t help me. To give her credit though, she did attempt to yank it a few times. Thanks Southwest, I appreciate your elbow grease!
I set off, awkwardly lugging this thing by its short little handle. A miracle occurs in the form of a sweet old man, the custodian who sees me struggling and ties a plastic bag around the handle so I can pull it better. Bless his soul.
I managed to tote the two heavy bags all the way to the international terminal, realize I’m much more out of shape than I thought, and succeed in checking in. Mai pen rai, right?
To be continued, wherein I tell the elaborate and chaotic tale of what happened from Taiwan to my hotel in Bangkok.
But I digress. I arrive in San Fran and have to pull off my bags to ten around and check them again in my international flight. Again, not the easiest way to do it, but whatever. My bags show up! Round one- success! But wait- I see a large stain on the front of my brand new luggage. It smells like coconut. AWESOME, my sunscreen, which of course happens to be an oil, why wouldn’t it be any less messy, has sprung a leak and is all over EVERYTHING. You’re probably thinking I’m a moron for not putting it in a plastic bag. Wrong. I thought of this scenario, it happened to leak through the bag as well. Shit happens, whatever. I locate and remove the offender and toss it - something else to buy later. I’m still in relatively good spirits, my bags both made it after all! I go to pull the handle to roll away in peace, and find that it’s stuck. No matter- ill just unjam that sucker. But to no avail.
Normally, this is would not be an issue, but I foresee me having to lug this fifty pound bag through god knows where Thailand. (Ah, in hindsight I now realized why they suggest packing light. In all fairness to myself I managed to only bring a giant camper backpack and the now broken luggage. Just two for ten months! I’m so proud)
The lady in baggage claim issues (worst job ever, am I right?) kindly informs me that she can’t help me. To give her credit though, she did attempt to yank it a few times. Thanks Southwest, I appreciate your elbow grease!
I set off, awkwardly lugging this thing by its short little handle. A miracle occurs in the form of a sweet old man, the custodian who sees me struggling and ties a plastic bag around the handle so I can pull it better. Bless his soul.
I managed to tote the two heavy bags all the way to the international terminal, realize I’m much more out of shape than I thought, and succeed in checking in. Mai pen rai, right?
To be continued, wherein I tell the elaborate and chaotic tale of what happened from Taiwan to my hotel in Bangkok.
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