“Any luggage to check in?”
the fair skinned Cathay Pacific fellow asks me. “No, no... Just these three tiny
bags as take on luggage" I respond. He eyes me out, eyes out my obviously Mediterranean wife, looks down at the international tickets and takes a moment
to process a good-etiquette response. He looked back up at me with his eyes
full of amazement: “Umm, Sir…just those three tiny bags?” We shared a manly moment
together – Yes... indeed. Me, Man, have successfully restricted a
women to packing lightly for an international journey.
Ok. So I never told him the real reason for the light
packing. I just took the victory for all men out there and walked off with a
swagger. Truth be told the packing space is limited because the loading space
on the bike is limited. The plan is to hit the massive U S of A on a bike. In true
American spirit we are doing it on a Harley. One of those massive
couch-on-wheels.
The first leg of our flight was quite reasonable, borderline
enjoyable actually. The plane was tidy, the air hostess was tidier and there were
no toddlers to be tidied up after. I
actually really enjoy airplane food. Not so much for the lack of flavour (which
turns out to be more due to the cabin pressure that the actual food by the way)
but I enjoy the compartmentalization of it all. The little squares of this and
packets of that. The way everything fits together like a hunger buster puzzle.
It is actually the perfect table side manner training station. Eat slowly,
carefully. Progress through your food in a logical and nutrition focused
manner. No elbows on the table now!
We transferred through Hong Kong (yip, SA to Hong Kong to
freaking LA) 14 hours later and stood in the transfers queue. This is to be our
first experience of American airport security. Unlike any other international
transfer, the Americans make you go collect your luggage at the arrivals
carousel and redo the drop off scanning process again with the other new
passengers. Can’t blame them really – it was just interesting to see.
Fingers crossed that we don’t get searched because these two
draw string bags are packed so tightly that breaking the seal will lead to an explosion
of clothing, purses and 100ml bottles all over the show. Barbara studied YouTube
video after video on how to pack an elephant into a matchbox…quite the
skill set. Fortunately, they let us through will no hassle. Rightie: onto the
next 14 hours to Los Angeles.
As we hit hour mark 20 the excitement versus tiredness scale started to tip over heavily. We both put on our grumpy pants and started to bicker. After a wide-eyed debate about the peanuts we decided it was more in
line with Civil Air Regulations that we rather just sleep and not talk to each
other. “What? You need to flippen pee again? Why? Hey? I don’t care that you
have kidneys!” we all know how it goes.
We left Johannesburg late in the evening and through the
wonders of time zones landed in Los Angeles the next morning. A little under 30
hours in transit but we landed in Los Angeles as the sun was rising the next calendar
day. Quite an odd experience. Sort of Stephen Kings Langoliers meets Inception.
You know it’s been longer, because your beard has grown out, but everything
around you says you are not to trust your beard. Maybe it’s the plane food?
Anyways – we are here. Three years of planning and a
potential three years to pay the banks back. We are hitting the US of A on a Harley.
5000 miles, 5 weeks and a general idea of direction. Sort of up and to the right. Los Angeles to New York
City.
Let’s do this.
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