Urologists on a Plane

It's like Snakes on a Plane only with academic posters instead of cobras and no one for Samuel L Jackson to play. 

My third and final flight CDG to CPT was heavy on conference attendees. It definitely had a urology feel to it. You know: Happy people who look fun but a little nerdy? Most with bubbles over their heads pondering high altitude diuresis (it's true. you pee a lot after a certain amount of elevation) and wondering if self-starting aspirin before the flight was enough to avoid all calamity? 

But this is jumping ahead...

After arriving in the city of Eminem, I decided the key to avoiding ingestion of less than ideal airplane food was to have a delicious, healthy, filling meal prior to boarding. I explored the options and settled on a Japanese place and their $20 salad. It fit the above requirements and actually prevented me from more than just sampling the oil dipped rubber that was called "kale" served with chicken a few hours later. I also bought a luggage lock (because Africa) and had an extended conversation with Schwab about the fact that I didn't remember my ATM PIN. 

Interestingly I told the guy that was what I wanted upfront, however it took me verifying my last 3 addresses, my favorite color when I was 4, my imaginary pet's name, what my parents almost named me instead, and my prediction for the 2020 Super Bowl for him to reveal that, "I just can't tell you that over the phone, but I am happy to mail you a new PIN right away. And if you remember your old PIN you can always log on to our online banking and reset it yourself." I am certain he was doing jazz hands when he finished the last sentence. 

Me: "Well, no sir as I explained that doesn't work because I am going on a trip today." 

Him "When do you leave?"

Me "5 and a half hours ago." 

Him "Oh... well we encourage people to always remember their PINs". 

As I saw it there was only one thing to do, make friendly banter with him as I walked to an ATM so he could continuously reset it for me while I tried every number in my head (Jazz hands!! No really that is what I did. He only had to reset me twice.). 

With the proven ability to withdraw cash, I was ready for full flight #2 to CDG. I must have been daydreaming through the announcements on my first flight because I totally missed that the TSA has banned all Samsung galaxy note 7s's because of that whole bursting into fire situation.  The interesting thing about this is they don't say that until they have already pushed back from the gate and you are taxiing out to the runway. "Hey let us know if you have one or accidentally checked one. Xoxo." What is the likelihood of someone almost ready to depart admitting they have such a thing? Especially knowing they will return the plane to the gate?

On this flight the man next to me was heading to Nigeria in "make it rain style" with thousands of dollars in cash. Large bills in a a stack so thick that they couldn't be folded or fit in really anything except a large bag which is why he was holding it? 

Detroit to Paris is just under 8 hours of flying time and I was unable to fall asleep so this equaled: 2 movies,  a full on yoga flow class (I pondered a peak pose but resisted), logging on to wifi to meander all that is social media and text, and finally a suggestion from my mom to meditate until I fell asleep (this was after she marveled that I was awake through even one entire movie. I have a long history of movie narcolepsy.). 

Upon arrival navigating the Paris airport turned out to be more difficult than I expected. At one point a security guy kept telling me to go down. In the hallway where we were I saw no "down". Eventually I found the mysterious down he was talking about and ended up in the same terminal that I had departed from almost 3 years ago during the holidays. What a great trip that was! I never wrote about it which is a shame but that was because when we weren't out and about I was surrounded by amazing people who I really wanted to get to know better. I chose them over journaling and would make the same decision again today.  

After an airport shower (face washed and moisturized, body wet wiped, deodorant applied and articles of clothing closest to one's body changed or in desperate times "freshened up")  I went to do more yoga at my gate as the sun rose. It was great and more than worth the amount of stares and attention I received in my little corner. This time I practiced for 45 min. 

My final flight began to board and there was almost no one at the gate. I was excited that maybe I would have a row to myself but alas this was not to be. My row of four remained empty for about an hour as we sat and waited. The captain eventually informed us that we were holding the plane because the security lines were especially long today and 30 people were still MIA. Wow! Last year in Seattle, Delta closed the doors leaving exactly that many people behind and I know for a fact a plane carrying several of those people had landed and they were making their way to the gate and then were shut outside ours while we waited before pushing back. 

My first official action after take off was to try peanut butter flavored Cheetos. Yeah. Yeah. Gross. When does ones self-loathing end after making such a choice you ask? I will let you know.  In the name of health I had passed multiple French bakeries on the way to my gate and I ate peanut butter flavored Cheetos whose mascot looked like Towelie from South Park.  Saying they were weird is an understatement. Just like normal Cheetos they were food engineering perfection. Crunching in your mouth at the exact right force to create chewing ecstasy, but the flavor of peanuts and sugar and cheese powder was just wrong.

The next thing I remember is being lightly shaken and waking up eye to eye to a handsome French guy saying, "Bonjour madame you are on a plane to Cape Town and I would love to serve you lunch." I must have looked startled or just very confused. Admittedly I had been ignoring his attempts to wake me for quite a bit thinking it was part of a dream I was having. 

This last flight was uneventful arriving late into Cape Town. At immigration the guy didn't even make eye contact with me. He just stamped my passport and handed it back. Then I walked right out. I had a very pleasant cab driver who welcomed me to this city of 3.7 million and told me some history and pointed out some things to see and do in the daylight including a favorite hike, a palace built in the 1650s, the hospital where the first heart transplant was performed and the place where Nelson Mandela gave his first speech after being released from prison.

An easy check in, a hot shower, and its good night from South Africa!