I'm back in the U.S.of A
You don't know how lucky you are, boy
Back in the U.S. of A
(With apologies to the Beatles)
So the omens were terrible.
Increased surveillance at airports. Lengthy queues to immigration. LAX airport is ALWAYS busy and frantic. Yelled instructions. Rope lines the length of arrival halls. People having cellphones examined. Social media posts scrutinised. One Australian who writes for Substack was turned around at the border.
So the omens were terrible.
The weather departing Auckland wasn’t much better. Heavy rain. Thunderstorms. We were flying across the Tasman to Sydney to connect with a flight to LA. Despite the weather take off was smooth and uneventful. Whatever the Norns were weaving it didn’t include us.
Got into Sydney alright. Problem was that we were on the wrong side of the airport from the departure gate (and the lounge). White hair has its advantages. We were given a ride on a two seater mobility scooter to where we needed to go. Someone had pity on us.
The same thing had happened in Santiago a couple of years ago when, as the oldest folks in the line, we were directed to the diplomatic lane. One of life’s great mysteries.
Heading for LA we were flying an Airbus A380. Huge. It looms above you. Four enormous engines. Wheels the tyres of which would keep a rubber plantation in business for years. Built like a bumble bee. Which “experts” say should never be able to fly. But like a bumble bee the A380 can fly. And it did.
Confession time. We were flying business. But our timing was bad. School holidays. A cabin full of families. Many of them including small kids who are sensitive to pressure changes and vocalise their displeasure. And like many kids these days have appalling manners and don’t know how to behave. Running up and down passages. Sticking their noses into other folks’ seat area.
So business class this flight was like economy as far as the demographic was concerned – most of them Australian which added another dimension to the demographic – but with more comfortable seating.
The noise cancelling headphones supplied were a help. Allowed me to catch up on “A Complete Unknown” – the movie about Bob Dylan’s early days – which took me back to places I had forgotten.
And sleep. Being able to lie flat out means that Morpheus steals in more easily and fled a couple of hours before landing in LA.
So now time to run the gauntlet. Disembarked at 2:45 pm local time and through immigration and secured bags by 3:30 pm. The lines were enormous but kept moving and the crowd control in the immigration was efficient.
Motioned forward by an immigration officer. Passports please – duly scanned. Remove glasses and look at the camera. Thank you. What is the purpose of your visit to the US. Holiday. How long are you here. Picking up a cruise in San Diego which ends in New York – 28 days in all. Have you cash – yes and credit cards as well. Thank you. Welcome to the United States.
Not even fingerprinted. Probably because they have them on file from earlier visits. And then it was out to the heat and the fumes and the madness of the LAX concourse to locate the departure point for a bus that would take us to the Alamo Car Rental facility in Airport Way.
But that, and driving the LA freeway, is another story.