I have decided to write a post on the odyssey of our plane journey as it has been the most eventful in all my years of travelling. Nothing seemed to go quite right, but we are both safe in Berlin with our luggage, so it ended up going as
right as it needed to!
Waking up on the 15th of December was exciting, but relaxing. I had the whole day ahead to say final goodbyes and finish packing before the late night flight. So, naturally, the first text of the morning confirmed an 8-hour delay in Auckland. Meaning a 10-hour stopover there, and a missed connection in Shanghai. With my sleep in ruined, a phone call to Air New Zealand saw us on a China Eastern flight a few hours before our original schedule, meaning the time we were already dreading in Pu Dong International Airport would be even longer and on the heels of a 12-hour flight with a dubious airline. As the customer service rep tapped away on her computer, I tapped away on mine, and gently suggested a route through the States. After assuaging her fears about obtaining visas, we were confirmed on a flight that left Christchurch 4 hours earlier, that arrived in Berlin 6 hours earlier, with a short but unrushed San Francisco stop, and a longer one in Frankfurt. Google confirmed both nail and massage salons in Frankfurt.
As of 10 am, everything was sorted. New flights, no issues. We cancelled our pre-flight dinner with the families and stepped up our pace for the day, and were already at 3.30 and on our way. We got to the airport in plenty of time and sedately made our way to the domestic departure. We sat down for the short wait and watched the minutes tick by, The attendant announced a 10-minute delay. The attendant announced that they would make an announcement in 10 more minutes. The attendant announced a further 10-minute delay. The attendant announced they would board us in 10 minutes. The time to transfer to Auckland International started looking really tight. The flight crew finally turned up and had a bit of a goss at the gates. 10 more minutes.
We left Christchurch just under 2 hours before our international was due to depart Auckland. That was ok. I had been doing some fitness. I totally could run. I went to the toilet on the plane, knowing there wouldn't be time in-between. And there, surrounded by empty seats on our ‘full capacity’ plane, sat John Key. We made very direct and awkward eye contact. I raised an eyebrow and went to the loo. It was his fault the plane was delayed. I was sure of it.
After landing, I flicked off aeroplane mode and the first notification to come through was “Your flight to San Francisco is now boarding.” Of course, it was. Wheels up in 40. We were at the back of the plane. And we unloaded from the front. At least John Key had to sit there and wait for us. Bye John Key.
We ran. I had been doing some fitness. It was not enough. My backpack bounced painfully on my back and my pants were falling down. We abandoned our water at security for a few precious seconds. The guy who screened us good-naturedly ribbed us for our timing.
“It wasn’t us!” We protested between gasps. “It was our Christchurch flight!”
We got stuck in duty-free behind a large group of tourists. We streaked through past the gates. Do planes ever leave from the closest one? I’ve never seen one. I made out our flight on a departures board. ‘FINAL CALL’ and ‘8 minutes to gate’. We ran faster. We made it, and the good news was we didn’t have to wait for ages in the boarding cue. The bad news was that we had over 30 hours of travel ahead and I was swimming in sweat.
“Well, that’s all the bad karma done,” I said to Sarah.
The States. What a unique country. You go through special gates and you follow their special rules. We had rushed the ‘ESTA’ application that morning for our transit visa. The customs official was incredibly lovely, my interrogation felt more like a friendly conversation. I felt myself wanting to ask him questions back:
I didn’t. But I wanted to. Most likeable official ever. Then we got the TSA officers. We didn’t encounter any issues, but we definitely kept our heads down and followed the rules. Despite being in transit, we had to collect our bags and ‘re-check’ them. So we waited by the carousel. And we waited. We talked about the rush in Auckland. And how close it was for us to get to the plane. The bags didn’t show. Another couple checked with an official. They were from Christchurch too. Their bags weren’t there either. The crowd thinned out. Then, over the crest of the conveyor, a blue bag with a purple strap.
“YAS!”, with two hands up. No shopping for an emergency coat as soon as we arrived in Berlin for me.
We managed a pretty healthy, albeit outrageously expensive, lunch in the airport and had the perfect amount of time - not rushed and not bored, before boarding. We were flying United to Frankfurt. Efficiency is not United’s thing. Each announcement felt as long as the plane ride. They would flesh out the most simple message in the most interesting ways. They also used the PA system to chastise us. Then they would repeat is 10 seconds later in German. The fuel line or something broke, so we sat on the tarmac for an hour while they figured that out. Sarah and I were in the middle of four. After we were finally airborne, I dozed uncomfortably and woke up sporadically to check the flight map. Which was definitely broken because I swear I slept for hours, but the damn numbers did not change all that much. I gave up on sleep about 5 hours in and committed to a few movies. On landing, we sat for about 20 minutes waiting for a gate, and I nearly got the giggles as my mood descended into chaos. We walked for about a year to get to baggage claim. We had been told repeatedly to collect our bags at Frankfurt and then check in for the domestic to Berlin. After waiting for half an hour, with our flight number flashing on the screen, we were told our bags were on a carousel with bags from Zurich. Sure enough, all the others waiting from our flight found their bags and took off. Not us. After a few minutes, we went to the counter to be told that we would collect our luggage in Berlin.
“Thanks, John Key” Sarah said.
We had no hiccups getting to Berlin, but a small one on arrival. We had been savvy and booked an airport hostel for the first night, saving us getting into town late at night and prioritising getting over the jet lag. But we didn’t factor in 2 airports and our hostel was at the hard-to-get-to, far-away one that was not where we flew in. So we caved and got a room at the Ibis at the Central Train Station, copped the cost and showered to our heart's content.
Classic 'plane wing' shots:
right as it needed to!
 |
| Before (eventually) leaving CHCH |
Waking up on the 15th of December was exciting, but relaxing. I had the whole day ahead to say final goodbyes and finish packing before the late night flight. So, naturally, the first text of the morning confirmed an 8-hour delay in Auckland. Meaning a 10-hour stopover there, and a missed connection in Shanghai. With my sleep in ruined, a phone call to Air New Zealand saw us on a China Eastern flight a few hours before our original schedule, meaning the time we were already dreading in Pu Dong International Airport would be even longer and on the heels of a 12-hour flight with a dubious airline. As the customer service rep tapped away on her computer, I tapped away on mine, and gently suggested a route through the States. After assuaging her fears about obtaining visas, we were confirmed on a flight that left Christchurch 4 hours earlier, that arrived in Berlin 6 hours earlier, with a short but unrushed San Francisco stop, and a longer one in Frankfurt. Google confirmed both nail and massage salons in Frankfurt.
As of 10 am, everything was sorted. New flights, no issues. We cancelled our pre-flight dinner with the families and stepped up our pace for the day, and were already at 3.30 and on our way. We got to the airport in plenty of time and sedately made our way to the domestic departure. We sat down for the short wait and watched the minutes tick by, The attendant announced a 10-minute delay. The attendant announced that they would make an announcement in 10 more minutes. The attendant announced a further 10-minute delay. The attendant announced they would board us in 10 minutes. The time to transfer to Auckland International started looking really tight. The flight crew finally turned up and had a bit of a goss at the gates. 10 more minutes.
We left Christchurch just under 2 hours before our international was due to depart Auckland. That was ok. I had been doing some fitness. I totally could run. I went to the toilet on the plane, knowing there wouldn't be time in-between. And there, surrounded by empty seats on our ‘full capacity’ plane, sat John Key. We made very direct and awkward eye contact. I raised an eyebrow and went to the loo. It was his fault the plane was delayed. I was sure of it.
After landing, I flicked off aeroplane mode and the first notification to come through was “Your flight to San Francisco is now boarding.” Of course, it was. Wheels up in 40. We were at the back of the plane. And we unloaded from the front. At least John Key had to sit there and wait for us. Bye John Key.
We ran. I had been doing some fitness. It was not enough. My backpack bounced painfully on my back and my pants were falling down. We abandoned our water at security for a few precious seconds. The guy who screened us good-naturedly ribbed us for our timing.
“It wasn’t us!” We protested between gasps. “It was our Christchurch flight!”
We got stuck in duty-free behind a large group of tourists. We streaked through past the gates. Do planes ever leave from the closest one? I’ve never seen one. I made out our flight on a departures board. ‘FINAL CALL’ and ‘8 minutes to gate’. We ran faster. We made it, and the good news was we didn’t have to wait for ages in the boarding cue. The bad news was that we had over 30 hours of travel ahead and I was swimming in sweat.
“Well, that’s all the bad karma done,” I said to Sarah.
The States. What a unique country. You go through special gates and you follow their special rules. We had rushed the ‘ESTA’ application that morning for our transit visa. The customs official was incredibly lovely, my interrogation felt more like a friendly conversation. I felt myself wanting to ask him questions back:
“Where are you off to after this?” He asked.
“Berlin.” (Have you ever been to Germany?)
“That’s exciting! Have you been planning the trip long?”
“Quite a while - can’t believe we are finally on the way!” (When was your last trip? Do you travel much?)
“I’ll bet. Imagine you have been saving for months.”
“Definitely!” (Do you enjoy your job? You must meet some interesting people?)
I didn’t. But I wanted to. Most likeable official ever. Then we got the TSA officers. We didn’t encounter any issues, but we definitely kept our heads down and followed the rules. Despite being in transit, we had to collect our bags and ‘re-check’ them. So we waited by the carousel. And we waited. We talked about the rush in Auckland. And how close it was for us to get to the plane. The bags didn’t show. Another couple checked with an official. They were from Christchurch too. Their bags weren’t there either. The crowd thinned out. Then, over the crest of the conveyor, a blue bag with a purple strap.
“YAS!”, with two hands up. No shopping for an emergency coat as soon as we arrived in Berlin for me.
We managed a pretty healthy, albeit outrageously expensive, lunch in the airport and had the perfect amount of time - not rushed and not bored, before boarding. We were flying United to Frankfurt. Efficiency is not United’s thing. Each announcement felt as long as the plane ride. They would flesh out the most simple message in the most interesting ways. They also used the PA system to chastise us. Then they would repeat is 10 seconds later in German. The fuel line or something broke, so we sat on the tarmac for an hour while they figured that out. Sarah and I were in the middle of four. After we were finally airborne, I dozed uncomfortably and woke up sporadically to check the flight map. Which was definitely broken because I swear I slept for hours, but the damn numbers did not change all that much. I gave up on sleep about 5 hours in and committed to a few movies. On landing, we sat for about 20 minutes waiting for a gate, and I nearly got the giggles as my mood descended into chaos. We walked for about a year to get to baggage claim. We had been told repeatedly to collect our bags at Frankfurt and then check in for the domestic to Berlin. After waiting for half an hour, with our flight number flashing on the screen, we were told our bags were on a carousel with bags from Zurich. Sure enough, all the others waiting from our flight found their bags and took off. Not us. After a few minutes, we went to the counter to be told that we would collect our luggage in Berlin.
“Thanks, John Key” Sarah said.
We had no hiccups getting to Berlin, but a small one on arrival. We had been savvy and booked an airport hostel for the first night, saving us getting into town late at night and prioritising getting over the jet lag. But we didn’t factor in 2 airports and our hostel was at the hard-to-get-to, far-away one that was not where we flew in. So we caved and got a room at the Ibis at the Central Train Station, copped the cost and showered to our heart's content.
Classic 'plane wing' shots:
 |
| Jeremy Clarkson on the tail of the DHS Plane??! |
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