Day 1

Wednesday, June 2, 2010 (Cairo, Egypt) – I would love to say the trip to Egypt was uneventful. After hundreds and hundreds of flights in my lifetime, I have realized that I am happy with unmemorable flights, just as much as I like the ones in which I’m upgraded to first class.

Five minutes into the ride to the airport my phone rang, and I received the infamous, “Hello. This is United Airlines with an Easy Update message…” That’s never a good sign. It seems my flight from Dulles to Frankfurt was delayed by about an hour. Hopefully, they would be able to make up some time in the air, because my flight from Frankfurt to Cairo was about an hour and a half after my scheduled arrival at Dulles.

The trip to Washington, D.C. was pretty easy, and in fact we landed about 10-15 minutes early. Such a deal. Granted, with my impending departure running late, that early arrival just meant a longer wait in Dulles. I think that’s a travel rule: the earlier you arrive at an airport, the longer delay time you get to experience. I’m glad I’m not one of those guys who arrive three hours early.

I finally boarded the flight for Germany, which I had expected to be a fairly empty flight. When I was choosing my seat, it appeared that I could either have the double seat by the window or the three seats in the middle. I figured my chances were higher of having a single seat next me remaining open than a whole row, so I went with the window seat. As I was getting situated, the flight attendant announced on the intercom that they expected “a completely full flight today.” Right around the same time, a nice woman threw her oversized purse into the seat next to me. I forced a polite smile.

I’m not a big fan of long flights, so I tend to check things out a few days early, including the lineup of in-flight movies. I was excited to see Invictus listed. I’d heard it was good, and it’s not often that you get to see a “good” movie on a flight.


About five minutes into the movie, the woman – who had not said a word up to that point – asked me why I was heading to Germany. I didn’t want to be rude, so I removed my headphones, which I had to do in order to understand her thick Russian accent, and told her that I was going to visit my brother. She continued eating her sandwich and not looking at me, so I returned my earphones to my ears and my attention to the screen. Then she asked me a follow up question. I once again took out my headphones and answered her question. Again, she seemed satisfied, so I put on the headphones and returned to the movie. And, again, she asked me a follow up question.

Now, I don’t want to be impolite or mean, but generally when my seatmate has earphones on and seems to be enjoying the in-flight entertainment options, it never seems like just the right time to strike up a conversation. But to this woman, it seemed ideal.

She was certainly a nice enough woman, and we talked off and on throughout the flight. During the other conversations we had, there was one touching moment when she spilled her tomato juice straight down my pants leg and was clearly upset about losing the precious liquid.

Later, I woke her up so that I could get by her on my way to the bathroom, which of course made me feel better about the whole tomato juice incident.

When we landed in Frankfurt, I had about 30 minutes to make my flight, so I tried to hurry out of the plane, which is a lot like trying to sprint while underwater.

I got to the counter as fast as I could, and a man with a French accent, despite working for a German airline in Frankfurt, told me I had been rebooked for the next flight to Cairo. I wasn’t thrilled because I had 30 minutes to make it, and I wanted to at least try, but I understood that it was probably impossible (although when I found out that the flight actually took off 42 minutes after it was scheduled, I was considerably more annoyed).

So I had about five hours to fill in the Frankfurt Airport. Lufthansa was “nice” enough to give me a voucher for 15 Euros toward lunch, of which I used 14 because I couldn’t find anything that cost exactly 1 Euro, and of course I didn’t want to give them the satisfaction of using my own money.

I love European airports, especially the ones that tell you the terminal but not the gate you will be leaving from. Terminal 1 in Frankfurt has hallways shooting off in every direction with about 10 gates each, meaning your plane could be leaving from literally any of them. For that reason, I didn’t want to get too comfortable and risk being miles from my gate, so I kept getting up and checking the departure board. Most gates were going up on the board about two hours ahead of time. A little more than 90 minutes before my scheduled departure I stood in front of the monitors for 14 minutes, staring intently at my flight, hoping that a gate would appear. Like watching water before it boils, I watched the board as every other plane was assigned a gate. Finally, A32 appeared and went in search.

I wasn’t overly optimistic when there was no plane at the gate until a joyous voice filled the air to let us know a bus would be driving us across the runway to our plane. We packed ourselves in what may have been the hottest bus this side of the sun, and zigzagged our way through airplanes and runways. When we got to the plane and stopped, everyone stood and started moving to the doors, which of course is human instinct. However, the doors remained closed. Did I mention the bus was hot? Minutes. Minutes. Minutes. The cleaning crew boarded the plane as we stood on the bus, still huddled near the doors. The cleaning crew left the plane with bags filled with garbage as we stood on the bus. The cleaning crew drove away from the plane. Still, we stood on the bus. Finally, the doors opened, and the cool, 85 degree Frankfurt heat met us, and we all exhaled with relief as we entered the sweltering plane.

Because I missed my Lufthansa flight, they put me on Egypt Air. It felt like a throwback to airplane rides of yore. Get this: they served a hot meal to each of the passengers without asking for a dime in return (apparently they somehow thought it was included in the ticket price, if you can believe that). They actually woke people up to ask if they wanted beef or fish. The thought of fish being prepared and served on an airplane may well have surpassed mimes on stilts as my greatest fear. In fact, I may have actually screamed when I discovered that fish was an option. I ate the beef, which was sort of like pot roast that was cooked entirely in a microwave.

The flight was fine, and I finally arrived in Egypt at about 8 p.m. – or exactly 24 hours after my first flight departed Denver. It was dark with a haze floating above the city, which I later discovered was from a dust storm that afternoon. The jet way from the plane blasted cold air, and a guy with a Scottish accent and about 756 tattoos claimed to be “pissed” because Cairo wasn’t as hot as he expected. I decided not to point out that he had not actually left the air conditioning yet.

Customs, as usual, was much easier than it ever is in the United States. They smiled, stamped my passport and waved me on.