Because I have sleep apnea, I carry with me what is known as a CPAP machine allowed as an extra medical carry-on. This machine always perplexes Transportation Security Agency (TSA) inspectors, who invariably dismantle the damn thing, wiping it down with little explosive trace detecting cloths, leaving it to me to reassemble and replace in the carrying case while I am still juggling all my shit (my other carry-on bag, coat, shoes, change, and keys). I’m also holding up my still unbuttoned pants as inspectors urge me to move on to make way for the next potential hijacker or suicide bomber.
While no one was particularly unpleasant with us (most were and are generally polite and even at times deferential), neither is there much tolerance for confusion, resistance, anger, or even humor. It is expected that everyone simply respond willingly and obediently to each and every direction: “Step forward, please.” “Turn this way.” “Ma'am, Stay behind the red line.” “Raise your arms, sir.” “Drop your arms, sir.” “Don't move.” “Let's keep it moving.” We are expected to answer questions briefly and succinctly with no embellishments, no unwanted histrionics, and no unsolicited explanations. This, most will say, is as it should be.
To those who remember the world before 9/11 and before the millennium — a world wherein travelers were looked upon more as guests and valued as job security — the current atmosphere in airports is one in which people are taken to be potential criminals. It’s nearly incomprehensible. Now we are all suspects.
Note also that it is far easier to get out of the country than to get back in. On our trip out, leaving first from Indy and then Newark, the inspections were comparatively cursory. We each had two carry-on bags and only my machine was given any particular scrutiny.
The real challenge came when leaving Berlin. At the counter we were forced to consolidate everything into one carry-on each. Even my wife's purse, required impromptu, Olympic-level stuffing. Then we ran the gauntlet as described above. Upon landing again in Newark, we were first stopped at immigration. Then we had to retrieve our luggage and schlepp it to another location where they were to be rechecked for the flight to Indy even though it was the same airline we came in on.
On the way to the check-in we were stopped and quizzed by a fellow wanting to know if we had any fruits, vegetables, or seeds with us or in our luggage. We said no. We must not have been convincing enough as we were directed to go through a set of doors to yet another set of scanning machines into which we were further directed to place all of our luggage and other stuff for fruit and veggie scrutiny.
Article comments
— go to most recent comments1 - Dr Dreadful
I fly quite a bit and pretty much all of what you say is spot on. You forgot to mention that some (by no means all) TSA screeners are little Hitlers who have landed their dream job of making your life a misery and for whom 9/11 was therefore like Christmas and all their birthdays rolled into one nasty little package.
Airports certainly are bewildering, especially if you're flying internationally from one of the major hubs. I find, though, that if you arrive early enough and just keep a stiff upper lip through the preliminaries, once you do finally get farted out the other side of security and all you have to do is make your way to your gate, things can get quite tranquil.
A well-designed modern airport helps greatly in this. Portland (OR) and San Francisco (the international terminal) are good examples. London Heathrow, LAX and Chicago O'Hare are not.
2 - Baritone
Doc,
I'm sure you are correct about some of the TSA people. We've had a few who were apparently enjoying other people's discomfort.
Again, I assume that more seasoned flyers are more attuned to avoiding hang-ups, but I suppose that if you run into one of the security people with a hair up their ass you're toast no matter what.
As I noted in an earlier post, I was extremely uncomfortable on the flight from Newark to Berlin, unable to get even remotely comfortable, getting virtually no sleep. Oddly, on the return leg from Berlin to Newark I did in fact manage to sleep perhaps as long as an hour and a half or so. I bought one of those inflatable neck pillows in Berlin which actually seemed to help.
Still, flying - especially for the rare or occasional traveler - is a challenge at best.
I long for the good old days when, as a TWA employee, I could fly anywhere in the states for about six bucks. For an additional eight to ten dollars I could fly 1st class. It was standby, of course, but I never missed a flight because of it. I didn't work for them long enough to earn international flight priviledges, but I toodled around to NYC and Denver a couple of times and even got my parents tickets to Vegas and back.
The new BA terminal at Heathrow has certainly worked out well for them so far. They must have used the Denver model in their design.
I did like both the Vienna and Amsterdam airports when we flew just prior to the millenium. The Amsterdam airport is huge - really spread out, but it was very modern, and, of course, spacious.
I think our next trip will be relatively short, down to Florida to visit our other son, perhaps in May. That shouldn't be to rough.
B-tone
3 - bliffle
I've been traveling regularly since the 60s (ah! the 60s and 70s were a paradise of travel! We always wore suits and ties and reclined in comfortable seats. And the cost was moderate: coast-coast for $200 RT, SF to LA for $12.50, $10 on the turboprop Electra which took 15 minutes longer). It was the deregulation of the 80s that caused me to hope I'd never have to fly again. Alas! I married a European!
In the last few years the USA airlines have forfeited their position as The Best Airlines. Without even a look back.
4 - Baritone
Blif,
Yeah. When I was with T-Dub the fare to NYC from Indy was $42.50 one way tourist or "y" class. (Why do I remember that?) I guess at the time that wasn't cheap, but it was doable. Fares were constructed in such a way that they made sense. Upgrading to 1st class again was not cheap but the difference was nothing like it is today. It cost my wife and I just over a thousand bucks to fly from Indy to Berlin and back. First class tickets for the same flight could have been as much as eight grand, perhaps more.
While in Berlin we watched a lot of International CNN. They ran adds for Singapore Airlines. They have a suite available on the new A380 which includes not only a large seat, but a separate bed in a private room. I can't imagine what that costs. That would eclipse normal 1st class by a bunch, I'm sure. Of course, each A380 has its own zip code. Sheesh!
B-tone
5 - Dr Dreadful
Bliffle,
Yes, US airlines do suck nowadays compared to their international competitors. I fly from California to London on quite a regular basis (at least once a year on average) and given the choice, always go for Virgin or BA over an American carrier even if it costs a little more, which is seldom.
It was when American, United and their ilk decided they wanted to be Southwest with knobs on and make you pay for food, booze and even the stupid headset to watch the in-flight movie (having already forked out God knows what for your damn ticket) and, as you say, didn't even seem to care that was the final straw.
Fortunately, there does seem to be this new model, started by JetBlue and now joined by Virgin America, of budget travel without treating passengers like a truckload of battery hens, which the big five airlines hopefully are paying attention to.
The new Open Skies agreement may up the stakes even more in this area, especially if the 'blue riband' airlines like Emirates, Cathay Pacific and Singapore Airlines start flying the transatlantic routes.
6 - Dr Dreadful
B-Tone,
Singapore Airlines has already had to slap a ban on sex in its A380 suites, because while they do offer some degree of privacy the walls are rather... er... thin.
7 - Dan
I flew 6 consecutive bi-weekly roundtrips from indy to vegas to bet on football games last year. With frequent flyer bonuses on SouthWest, it only cost $176 per commute.
I always take the furthest back window seat on the left side of the plane. The engines are a little noisy, but it's the only seat that has a flat wall panel to lean your head against.
On that fateful day of 9-11, I was actually about half way to indy airport. Scheduled to fly to Vegas. We were in the good mood that goes with anticipation of adventure. During a lull in conversation we flipped on the radio and heard the report. Knew right away we wouldn't be flying that day, so we turned around and headed back.
Also knew then that easy access to airplanes would be a thing of the past. I only blame the terrorists though.
For all the hassle, I still like to fly. I think it's worth a good chunk of the fare just to look out the window. You can see 350 miles to the horizon. If you're wearing a watch and line up the wing with those square mile swatches, you can calculate air speed fairly accurately. The Grand Canyon is spectacular in the daytime, and arriving or departing Las Vegas at night is also way cool. Especially if the pilot makes a broad sweep around the city to line up for the runway.
Fellow passengers antics can sometimes go overboard on the way to Vegas, but they're much more subdued on return flights.
8 - Dr Dreadful
Dan,
I also love the window seat for the very reasons you mention. I take great care, if possible, to make sure it isn't over the wing though. Although I must point out that that seat at the very back isn't a great idea if the plane has engines mounted at the rear of the fuselage (like the MD-80)!
On long-haul flights, though, an aisle or exit row seat is preferable if you're flying in coach, because you can at least stretch your legs out a bit and get up whenever you want without having to dislodge your neighbors. You miss out on the view, but really it's just ocean for most of the way anyway so ten hours wedged up against the wall of the cabin just isn't worth it.
9 - Dan
Yeah Dread, I think those planes are MD-80's. It is loud back there. I sleep with a fan at home though, so I guess I'm kind of used to it.
I can sure see your point about the aisle for long hauls. I can't even conceive of a ten hour flight. Although it might have been like the hell of a 26 hour Greyhound bus ride I was once caught up in.
10 - Dr Dreadful
At least on a Greyhound they stop and let you get off to pee every so often...
The longest flight I've been on was 14½ hours, Sydney to LAX. Strangely, that one didn't drag the way some of my San Fran-London trips have. And Qantas in-flight service ain't all that either. [shrug]
11 - Bennett
"slap a ban on sex in its A380 suites"
Ah, the folks at Singapore Airlines haven't read Palahniuk's "Choke", in which you find out what really goes on in airplane bathrooms, while "in flight".
Worth reading, flights will never be the same.
12 - Baritone
Doc,
That's great! LOL.
When I was in the Army, I spent New Years Eve, 1966, and New Years Day 1967 on a train from Indy to Waco, Texas. The trip to Waco took about 31 hours, plus another couple on a bus down to Killeen, TX & Ft. Hood. It's good I was young.
As I noted in an earlier post, I much prefer aisle seats owing to my claustrophobic tendancies. Anyhow, craning my neck to look out the window usually gives me a headache.
I think I would enjoy a long train trip if I had a sleeper or private berth. Otherwise, though, travel by almost any means has become difficult owing to greater costs, greater numbers, heightened security and a myriad of other factors.
I remember a couple of years ago driving in the center lane of the autobahn in Germany in a Ford Focus Wagon completely encircled front & rear, side to side by large semis. Not just a little intimidating. Of course, there are even more trucks on America's highways.
Bus trips of anything more than a couple of hours are generally the pits. I've never taken a cruise. The longest boat trip I've been on was the ferry across the Straits of Mackinaw before they built the bridge. That hardly counts as a cruise.
If my knees weren't bad, I'd just walk.
B-tone
13 - bliffle
I fly to Paris on Air France only, because I enjoy the food. And the wine is better. I walk up and down the aisle to avoid DVT. All the way. 12 hours of walking. Not bad. Even in the rare case i don't get an aisle seat someone will soon surrender one to me to avoid the nuisance of me stumbling over them when they're sleeping.
14 - Matthew T. Sussman
"Note also that it is far easier to get out of the country than to get back in."
Really?
I'm almost always questioned at customs in Canada and Ireland on my to-there flight. Hardly a question on the way back to the US.
15 - Bennett
Also, ear plugs (if you can handle them) are great for cutting off the high frequencies of the engines. Makes for a much calmer flight.
Jet Blue has been very good to me from VT to SF. The BTV to Kennedy leg is a bit of a joke, but from there to CA is a breeze.
I agree with scoring the emergency exit seats, much better leg room.
16 - Baritone
Matthew,
Your experience is just the opposite of ours. Both Berlin and Newark were very difficult to navigate for our return trip. As I described in my article, we got bumped around like a pinball with repeated inspections and questions. I guess my wife and I have a particularly nefarious look to us.
B-tone
17 - STM
I can empathise Baritone, but you blokes don't know how good you've got it.
How about this: leave Queluz outside Lisbon by cab at 9.30am on a Thursday.
Arrive Lisbon, flight to Frankfurt delayed. Stinking hot day, forget to remove water bottle from cabin baggage; whilst chugging it down engaged in conversation by portuguese security guard fascinated by Australia, when all I want to do is collapse. His supervisor decides to double check my bags just in case and am the last on board.
Arrive Frankfurt late afternoon, forced to spend five hours waiting for Qantas flight to Sydney via Singapore. When you are talking long-haul, only the flight to Auckland is longer.
Eat dinner of German sausages and bread rolls at cafe, head to Qantas check-in about 9pm in plenty of time only to see a queue about seven miles long snaking around the terminal.
The worst part: it's not moving. At all. And I'm at the end of it.
After two hours, Qantas ground staff come around with bottled water and a note: "You may or may not be aware that tonight's flight to Sydney is cancelled because of engine problems". A new Rolls-Royce engine has to be flown all the way from Sydney (what, a 24-hour trip?) and since Qantas is now the world-leader in packing in passengers for maximum profit on their long-haul 747s, there's no way they're going to do this in their own time rather than ours.
We remain in the queue, as asked, until nearly midnight, when we are told that Qantas will put us up at the airport Sheraton and feed us dinner! Great ... German food for free!
Next day, after a German breakfast, discover that we don't have to check out until MUCH later in the afternoon as the plane still isn't ready. Have two more free German meals, and feel like I'm walking around with a block of concrete in my stomach.
Ring my wife and kids in Sydney thanks to Qantas' offer of a free 10-minute phone call to Australia. Somehow, the Sheraton thinks this means a 10-euro phone call, so I get stung for another 40 euros and spend hours arguing with Qantas ground staff. At least it passes the time and I get to vent.
Eat German supper as the plane is still running late. Develop a new appreciation for noodles and stroganoff.
It's now 9pm Friday. Finally check-in. Need a leak and a coffee and a smoke, so head out through the lounge exit and have to return through the three security checks again. Once again, the buzzer goes off and I have to remove belt, shoes and sunnies. Still waiting, though, and there's a terror scare at Frankfurt in the very terminal we're in!
Shuttled out to tarmac and aircraft finally takes off about 11pm.
Arrive Singapore after 12-hour flight, hoping for quick (8-9 hour, so it depends on your perspective) onward journey after the usual two-hour layover. No such luck.
So late leaving Frankfurt, that we can't make the overnight take-off and landing curfew at Sydney international.
Now stuck in a hotel in Singapore at the expense of Qantas. Get great buffet dinner and eat everything on the menu except the strange-looking, dark coloured meat that all the locals are going for.
Leave Singapore that night, arrive Sydney 8am Sunday.
Happy to be home, but abused by officious Australian Customs official for stepping the wrong way to the exit lane after he's looked at my passport, stared me in the eye like Clint Eastwood, grunted at me, and yelled out: "Oi! Oi!. You! That way!"
Yep. Welcome home!
Go to baggage claim, where senior, roving Customs officer asks for my passport and grills me at length about where I've been and what I've been doing. He's looking directly at my red eyes, which now look like piss-holes in snow.
"Fair dinkum, mate, are you serious? Where have I f..king been? Stuck between here and Lisbon and every stop on the way for four f..king days, mate, that's f..king where. What about you?"
Another officer brings a dog that sniffs my bags, but it's probably put off by four days' worth of scungy undies. No drugs though. Free!
I could have told them that. Of course ... that'd it, I haven't had a haircut for six months. The Silver Surfer's law-enforcement magnet strikes again.
Stopped again at Quarantine to make sure I'm not bringing in any new and exotic diseases into the great southern land. Could probably think of a few new words though.
Decide to catch the subway train home, which is running late, and half way there, as we get on the Harbour Bridge, it starts pissing down so hard water's coming in through the doors and I get soaked at my stop running to the cab rank with my bags.
At my joint, pay driver but leave one bag in cab. Chase driver up the road, flailing arms and shrieking like a banshee. He looks in his rearview mirror, hesitates, then returns. Get back bag.
Walk in the front door to find that my wife has already left for work, and my daughter is watching the music video channels and blasting the neighbourhood with a solid wall of sound, and wonders if I could make her some breakfast, and have I got presents?
Only the dog seems to understand that I've just made an epic four-day trip home, and avoids me completely.
This is what happens when you live at the arse-end of the Earth.
One of my mates cleverly reckons you don't need to go on holidays when you live in Australia, and never leaves the place. He just gets up in the morning, walks across the road to the beach, gets a coffee at the cafe, sits on the bench on the promenade in the warn morning sun, has a surf, goes home, does a bit of work, has a nap, does a bit more work, has another surf, has dinner, then goes to the pub.
He's right.
18 - Baritone
Stan,
You've clearly got all of us beat with that one. I suppose anyone who has more than stuck his or her nose out their front door has some kind of travel horror story to tell. Sometimes it's nobody's fault, on other occasions it's everybody's.
I guess what I was recounting in my article is pretty much business as usual. As I stated, there were no particular delays - we did leave the gate at Newark on the way to Berlin something like 30th in line, but that's pretty much normal. We encountered some very rough air between Berlin and Newark coming back - again fairly normal.
The point being, that travel, perhaps air travel in particular, can be and often is an uncomfortable, frustrating, time consuming and an occasionally harrowing experience. And in all of the above described incidents, no one died. No one had to resort to cannibalism. Essentially, nobody got hurt - physically at any rate.
Traveling in even the best of times and circumstances can be difficult. Many of us are of a mind set that we try our best to make it as much like home as possible. We take little bits and pieces of our homelife, our normal routines with us in an effort to maintain the illusion of normalcy. The fact is, though, that when we set out on a journey - whether it's to the corner grocery or to the ends of the earth - we are no longer in our element. We are subject to far wider sources of problems and trouble.
So, why do we do it? Of course, many are forced to take on heavy and regular travel for their jobs. But even there lay a choice. Presumably people who take such employment do so with their eyes open and their bags packed.
We have traveled to Europe now three times since just before the millenium to visit our son. Had he wound up in NYC or Ogden, Utah, it's highly doubtful we would ever have left U.S. soil (or airspace.)
But, on balance, I would say that I am grateful to our son for having been so bold in making his move, first to Vienna, then to Germany. Despite our travel woes - which, Stan, by your account have been a trifle - our exposure to at least some of the larger world has been enlightening and, for the most part, enjoyable.
In part at least we travel for the wonder of it.
B-tone
19 - Ruvy in Jerusalem
Baritone,
I've bookmarked this article, and sent it to myself as an e-mail, to be read, just in case I get the stupid idea in my head of visiting the United States, and find we have the money for it.
I'll force feed this down my wife's throat, also.
You've definitely sold me on staying away from the States. We've had far worse terror that 9/11 and security at ben-Gurion is nothing like the bull you went through.
Many years ago, I had to return to St. Paul after doing what I could to settle my mother's affairs after she passed away. It turned out that I was flying the same day as the Superbowl, and all of Northwest's planes were gone to the left coast to handle the passenger load.
Me and my seven stuffed suitcases were all alone and had to make it to a hotel room to eat and sleep at Northwest's expense. At least I didn't have to eat German food.
I won't comment on the quality of the airlines. No comment is necessary.
Glad you got back to the States safely, Baritone.
20 - Baritone
Ruvy,
Now, now. Let's not disparage German food. True, it can be very heavy, but I must say that we had some really great meals. On balance, I'd say that the food we had some years ago in Vienna was superior to that we've had in Germany.
The Vienese seem to have mastered a wide variety of soups. I'm a "soup" kinda guy. A restaurant more or less across the street from the Vienna Rathaus (city hall,) Landtmans, I believe it is called, made a number of truly great soups including a kind of cream borscht that was, in my estimation, unbelievable.
But, a few days ago I was sitting in a quaint little place in the midst of a German forest eating wild boar steak. It was fabulous.
Also, in Germany last week I had a carrot/ginger soup that was truly great.
In my piece I didn't mean to disparage the U.S. particularly, but, at least in our experience, we have had the most difficulty on our return trips. They were totally sticklers in Berlin before starting our first leg of the journey home - then in Newark it just went over the top.
At the end of a nearly 9 hour flight, most people are typically exhausted, yet are still faced with huge hassles, a gauntlet of screenings, just in the effort to get back to hearth and home.
There are those who say, perhaps rightly, that we should be thankful for the heightened scrutiny. But it's difficult to be appreciative when tired, sore and being kicked about like a ball in a rugby scrum. One can only shake his or her head at the manner in which all this has evolved. At the base of it is greed, stupidity and lust for power, for which the majority of us must in some respects accept responsibility and concomitantly grudgingly accept the results of it as manifested in the policing of travelers.
B-tone
21 - Ruvy in Jerusalem
Baritone,
I'm willing to bet that you don't look anything like the typical suicide bomber might look - unless indeed you look like an Arab.
I know that I do not fit the physical appearance of a suicide bomber (I look like a Russian), but a lot of my neighbors do. They are either from or the children of Jews from places like India, Tunisia, Iraq, Egypt, Morocco, Tangiers, and even France. I think you get the idea.
Of course, if I open my big trap and start jabbering in Hebrew, they'd grab me right quick into some side room for some real close questioning. When I talk Hebrew, I sound like a MizraHi Jew - those folks I described in the last para - and use the gutteral Arab type pronunciations that differentiate between the Hebrew K and Q, for example.
But Americans don't do profiling (it might "discriminate" against the "people" who do the terror - how racist!), so even old guys like you have to go through a load of bullshit.
My views on civil liberties have changed since getting here. Maybe you can guess why....
From what you describe of German food, I wouldn't be caught dead touching the stuff. Boar is not kosher, and G-d only knows what goes into the sausages Germans are always ladling into their plates.
A good German beer (not a bier) would be nice, though. Drank a lot of that in Minnesota....
22 - bliffle
Sometimes exit-row seats don't recline (to avoid blocking the rearward row which may be part of the Exit row). Bulkhead seats sometimes have less footroom because there's no underseat footroom.
Noise-canceling full-cup headphones are a must: I carry two pair. And my handy old Palm has a few hours of music that represents the quintessence of good music. My laptop, in the overhead, contains more of that music as well as some videos and movies in my viewing backlog.
23 - Baritone
Ah, yes, I was forgetting your particular culinary sensibilities. Sorry about that. Fortunately, I have no such limitations.
At one point, just as we were reassembling ourselves, I believe in Newark on the way out, my wife was disturbed to see security "wanding" an elderly, white haired woman who couldn't have weighed 90 pounds. She apparently was not a regular flyer and seemed quite upset. She kept setting the damn thing off and they wouldn't let her pass until they figured out what was setting it off. I think it may actually have been a hip replacement or some such. She was still being scrutinized as we went on our way having been cleared to proceed to the gate area. I felt for her, but was more relieved to be through security ourselves. There was little we could have done on her behalf in any case. Who knows? Maybe she was loaded with C4.
Yes, I had a few good German beers. One particularly good one was a really dark brew, that actually was pleasantly mild. I'm not much of a beer drinker, but that was a good one.
B-tone
24 - Dr Dreadful
I certainly can't beat Stan's four-day ordeal, although he should probably be thankful that this is no longer the age of ocean travel, or it would have taken him about six weeks to get home!
The closest I can get to that is the trip I, my wife and my sister-in-law took to Brazil and Argentina in November '06. We weren't aware at the time that the Brazilian air traffic controllers were working to rule following the collision between a Gol 737 and an American executive jet over the Amazon. Suspicion for who was to blame was falling on the controllers, and they were in flat-out damage limitation to make it seem that they were overworked rather than negligent. Consequently, they were only allowing one flight at a time to be in a particular section of airspace - including those around airports. So takeoffs and landings were being horrendously delayed. Our flight was two hours late arriving in Miami and another two hours late leaving, so we got to Sao Paulo at 8 p.m. instead of mid-afternoon - only to discover that we hadn't missed our connecting flight to Rio de Janeiro after all because not only had the plane not arrived yet but no-one knew when it would be allowed to take off again when it did.
Five hours in Sao Paulo airport were followed by another hour on the plane while the ground crew repaired an overhead luggage bin that was apparently about to crush some of the passengers. We eventually landed in Rio at 3 a.m. only to find that our hotel transfer driver had given up and gone home hours ago. Of course we had no Brazilian money yet so there followed an extensive search for the only ATM in the entire arrivals terminal before we were able to pay for a cab.
It wasn't until after 4 a.m. that we reached our hotel - which fortunately did have a night receptionist - and discovered that our city tour would pick us up at eight. There are therefore numerous photos of one or other of us sleeping on the bus at various Rio attractions.
Later in the trip there was that whole hilarious travel-agent-forgetting-to-confirm-our-domestic-flights-in-Argentina incident, but that's another story.
25 - Dr Dreadful
Ruvy,
A friend of mine has been to Israel several times, and the way she describes the El Al security screening, I reckon the recruitment interview for Mossad is probably less rigorous!
She said that the last time she went (Spring '07) things were a bit more relaxed, although I think she flew with BA that time.
As you observe, Israel has far more experience with terrorism than the US does, and consequently the airport security process runs much more smoothly. It's probably just as rigorous, but more discreet.