Tubes In the Sky

Why is it that all airports feel identical? I guess there's no real incentive to make them truly unique, given how the present form fills the logistical needs well enough and their liminal nature makes sure that only workers spend much time in them. Still, they seem to all be the same sort of anodyne atmosphere that's calm without being peaceful.

I took the bus down to Logan airport the morning of the 20th. When I said in the previous post that my bike was boxed, that was a lie. I had a box from the local bike store that a bike frame had come in, but it was too small for a real one with handlebars and wheels and a seat. According to Qantas's website, I could get a bike box with no trouble at the airport, so I took that at face value.

Silly me. I was flying American for the first leg, because they're the Qantas affiliate, and when I got there I was informed by the baggage counter lady that they no longer had bike boxes "because of the economy", and she suggested I take a taxi to one of the nearby sporting goods/bike stores and spend the $200-300 it would take to get a plastic bike shipping box. The problems with this plan were a) my budget could take that hit, but not gracefully, and b) I don't see how I would take such a thing with me upon arrival. Instead, I talked to a check-in woman, who suggested I try another airline. I lugged all of my stuff to the next terminal over, and after a panicked 45 minutes in line at United, easily got the box I needed. I reversed my steps, now carrying a flat but huge box in addition to the bike and large duffel, taped the box together and put the bike in it.

All told, I spent about 20 hours in the air, with an additional 6 or 7 hours in airports. The Boston-LA flight was on a plane that wasn't really big enough, but the LA-Auckland leg was on a massive 747 that was way more comfortable. (Can we make it a law that all big planes should be silver, not white? They look way cooler that way.) Thanks to the magic of the International Date Line, my February 21 was only about 10 hours long, and spent entirely at 35,000 feet. Sorry December 21, but you've lost your crown this year. I've now passed through customs and biosecurity(!), where it turns out they won't x-ray your bike if it doesn't fit through their machine. I'm not smuggling anything, but maybe I should have been... I'm now at the hostel in Auckland where I'm staying tonight before setting off tomorrow, trying to gauge just how jet-lagged I may or may not be. Time to head out for lunch and the supplies I couldn't take on the plane.