Bem-vindo ao Brasil

I arrived in Brasilia this week. The trip was arduous and even twisty as a twirl slide. Where to begin?

After sitting on the tarmac for an hour, I nearly forgot that I wasn't at the notorious JFK for yet again another late departure. As the plane finally took off from the SL airport, I felt slightly apprehensive about making my first connecting flight. I knew I had a layover figuring it would be close, but believing I would make the connection. Instead, I landed at the same time my other flight was to take off.

First connection missed.

I found myself, along with about half of the people from the same flight queuing at the airline's customer service desk. Advice to airline customer service departments-- when you have over 50 people waiting in line to find another flight to their destination, DO have more than 2 (that’s right, 2) agents--man the desk. After 45 minutes in line, it was finally my turn. As the agent looks up my information, she informs me that I’ve already been rebooked on another flight. Too bad it’s about to take off. She calls the gate, tells them I am on my way, informs me that that I have 1 min (60 seconds) to run from nearly one end of the concourse to the other end. I bolt. I looked like a hot mess pulling my wheeler board with a backpack strapped on, running. Not a light jog or even a gallop; this is a full on sprint! Well, I made it. My ticket was scanned and I walked in the terminal with the door right on my heels. I am hot, sweaty and breathing deep by the time I take my seat (a middle seat again, awesome).

Now I’m on my to Chicago (instead of Toronto). Between my landing in Chicago and departure to Sao Paulo, I found myself in the Red-Carpet Room (thanks seat buddy) where, for ten minutes, I was able to take a some deep breaths of relaxation, stock up on the free snack foods and use the cleanest airport bathroom before boarding.

The reality of missing a connecting flight and being rerouted didn’t go unnoticed and I knew there was a chance that my luggage would not arrive with me. I was right. Unfortunately, my luggage had never left Salt Lake so either way, I would’ve been without my luggage. The only advantage of my luggage debacle was that I was personally walked through customs by an agent; bypassing those lines was a true relief since I still had one more connecting flight.

In Sao Paulo, I had to get my ticket and re-enter through security, not a problem but imagine my horror when I was told that I had to check my carryon. Even though there was very little in my carryon, it was the only luggage I had left so I wasn’t enthusiastic about parting with it. The agent at the counter took my bag, gave me my ticket and told me the designated gate. I had an hour layover so the only thing I could do was to sit at the gate. As I kept an eye on the time, I began getting nervous as boarding time approaches and there is no plane at the gate. I decide to walk to the counter, speak to an agent and am told that the gate to Brasilia is another gate. Blast it! If they changed my gate or I was told the wrong one, I will never know since I don’t understand the language. Let’s just say that the gate was changed (since another guy at the first gate with me ended up at the “real” gate to Brasilia). I walked quickly to my new gate where boarding has just begun. Phew! I’d made my connecting flight. So, nearly 27 hours after taking off from Salt Lake, I land in Brasilia with only my carryon and backpack. Don’t worry, the rest of my things arrived two days later.

Macacos me mordem!

J