Where is Guatemala City anyway?
As I head off to Costa Rica, I have a travel tip for those with early morning flights on the weekend: the Metro doesn’t open till 7am. This means that the first train thru town isn’t till 7:15 and you have plenty of time for a Heller’s Bakery breakfast pre-Metro. Unfortunately, I didn’t know this and in my haste to make my flight, skipped Heller’s and even the Metro.
Arriving in taxi time, I zipped thru security at DCA hoping to grab breakfast before the flight. Right. DCA on a Saturday morning is no place for breakfast. Lines are 20 minutes deep and filled with line-slowing Super Size It folks. Hungry, I jumped on my flight, ready to munch at Charlotte, my connection hub. All was good till we made it to the runway, where we waited.
For an hour, in the plane!
This is the reason people hate airlines and we have air rage. Instead of telling us of the delay in the terminal, where I could wait in line for breakfast, they corralled us in the plane and parked us on the runway to fume and bitch.
Arriving late at Charlotte, I sprinted for my San Jose connection. I came up to my gate just in time to jump in the last of the boarding queue. Once on the plane, I was happily ensconced in my 14A seat when another passenger said she was to be in 14A.
Checking her boarding pass, I noticed she was flying to Guatemala City, and said, “Sorry, but you’re on the wrong flight, this is the flight to San Jose.” Her reply? “Um, no, you’re on the wrong flight. This is the Guatemala City flight.”
Woops! Up the aisle I squirmed and across the airport I sprinted to my flight. They’d changed gates on me during my first cross-airport sprint and now in mid-second sprint the lack of a decent Heller’s bakery breakfast was really kicking in.
Finally on the right flight, I slept until the cool summer breezes of San Jose filled me with the sweet smell of developing world traffic – pure unadulterated carbon monoxide.