Departure-Arrival Story

Finally arrived in Buenos Aires!

So one might think that the adventures of traveling abroad begin once you arrive in your chosen country of study. For me, however, the adventure, stress, and overall frustrations that come with international travel began for me at BWI airport in Maryland. Upon my arrival to the airport I encountered my first hiccup. The extra large suitcase i had purchased specifically for the purpose of being able to bring as much with me to South America as possible, ended up weighing 93 pounds, and adding a whopping $300.00 to the cost of my checked luggage. While this put a serious dent in my allowance, there was not much i could do because i needed to catch my flight, and didn't have enough time to unpack and re-evaluate my suitcase in the middle of the terminal.
Once i got to the gate, i discovered that my first flight from BWI to Atlanta had been delayed an hour. This would put me into Atlanta airport just 30 minutes before my flight to Buenos Aires was intended to depart. The flight to Atlanta went smoothly enough, but upon our approach into Atlanta, we were instructed to circle the airport in a holding pattern for about 20 minutes because hurricane Fey had decided to grace us with her presence. We finally landed and i sprinted out of the breezeway to check on my flight. As i looked at the departures screen, i watched in horror as the status of my flight changed from "on time" to "last call boarding" right before my eyes. I ran from the end of my terminal all the way to the train, took the train to the international terminal (on the opposite side of the airport), and then ran to my gate. By the time i got there the plane was gone, so i headed for the Delta Airlines help desk.
At this point i started to wonder why i flew Delta in the first place, because my father (who is an ex-Eastern airline pilot), took this opportunity to remind me that he has ALWAYS hated Delta because they taxi for way too long, and don't wait for you if your connecting flight is late. After waiting for an hour in the help desk line, i finally spoke to a representative who told me the next flight was not until 24 hours later. They booked me on the flight and gave me a hotel voucher for one night at the Quality Hotel and Conference Center.
Getting to the Hotel and Conference Center proved much more difficult than the portly gentleman behind the Delta counter indicated. after getting lost in the airport trying to get outside, i finally located the taxi line. I got into the first taxi, and immediately after we left the airport, the driver realized that the hotel has a shuttle, and advised me to take that for free instead. He dropped me back off at the taxi stand, and i wound my way around the corner in the pouring rain to the shuttle area (thank god the airline kept my luggage checked, because there is NO way i would have been able to carry about 150 pounds of luggage by myself all over the airport). i waited here for 45 minutes, and finally the shuttle arrived. unfortunately for me, everyone else attempting to board the shuttle realized that i was a young college student and decided that i did not deserve any type of priority in line, even though i had been waiting 20 minutes longer than all the others whose flight to Indianapolis had been cancelled. When the driver of the now full shuttle told the remaining few that it would take another hour for the next shuttle, i returned to the taxi line.
The second taxi driver tried to tell me that there was a free shuttle available, and i almost started to cry with frustration. I told him that i did not care and asked him to please drive me to the hotel. I called my parents in the cab to explain what was going on, and when the cab driver overheard and realized why i was so irritated, he started laughing at me. He got me to the hotel within three minutes. I literally could have walked there in less time than i spend waiting for the shuttle.
Once i got to the hotel, there was a line out the door full of people waiting for room assignments from the sole lone cashier. Two hours and one trip to the hotel bar later, i was finally snug in my bed at the Quality Hotel and Conference Center. From the time my flight landed in Atlanta to the time i got the key to my room was 5 hours and 45 minutes. While this was probably the single most frustrating and emotional experience of my life (i left much of my irrational and tear-sodden behavior out of this story so as not to embarrass myself in my second entry of the semester), I certainly learned a lot about traveling abroad and domestically, and have certainly been initiated for the rest of the semester!