i managed to get to the various airport terminals... getting to JFK from Manhattan isn't fun. after almost 45mins wait, the ride took another one and a half hours before the bus arrived at the airport... then you join the slowly slidering queue to get yourself checked in... there, at the counter, i was told i've only 10mins connection transfer time before boarding my next flight from Frankfurt... gasp.
but my sleepy feet managed to sprint from terminal A to B and i made it in time... in fact, had i been more awake and decisive i could have opted to fly 5 hours later from Frankfurt and get a 500euros voucher (or half cash/voucher option) compensation for the over-booked flight... but two others voulunteered much quicker than sleepy me... darn. 250euros is quite a lot of goodies... and potentially a free flight within the EU... alas. mayeeee!!!! arggh.
then, upon arriving in edinburgh the plane had to take off again just as it was descending... the control tower in Edinburgh Turnhouse airport was shut for repairs/construction work and partly because the skies were so overcast that the landing strip was not visible... so the pilot had to re-start the landing procedure and land without assistance (?! guessing?!)... but he did a great job in landing the aircraft smoothly... =c)
it took me a while before i started to wonder if my baggage made the transfer even though it had a "HOT" yellow tag added to it... and while waiting for my haversack near the carousel i recalled this poem by Vikram Seth:
Round and Round
After a long and wretched flight
That stretched from daylight into night,
Where babies wept and tempers shattered
And the plane lurched and whiskey splattered
Over my plastic food, I came
To claim my bags from Baggage Claim.
Around, the carousel went around.
The anxious travelers sought and found
Their bags, intact or gently battered,
But to my foolish eyes what mattered
Was a brave suitcase, red and small,
That circled round, not mine at all.
I knew that bag. It must be hers.
We hadn't met in seven years!
And as the steel plates squealed and clattered
My happy memories chimed and chattered.
An old man pulled it off the Claim.
My bags appeared: I did the same.
--- from All You Who Sleep Tonight.
Poems by Vikram Seth ---
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