These first few posts will probably be particularly short as
we have been so busy and I am so tired that my fingers and brain may not work
together! It is already after 8:30 p.m.
on Thursday and this is the first opportunity I have had a few minutes to sit
down and write to you. And it will not
be for long as we have to get up in the morning before 6:00 am!
Tuesday morning I locked up the house, loaded up the luggage
and Skeeter, and drove to Christine’s to hitch a ride to the airport. The luggage and I got into her car and off we
went. Skeeter stayed back with Cousin
Dog. Arriving at the airport by 9:15 was
perfect for a 10:31 am domestic flight.
It took me three tries, one at the Curbside, one at the Bag Drop and
finally at the full service desk to be able to check my bag all the way through
to Casablanca. Delta did so even though
I was not checked in on the Royal Air Maroc flight from JFK. They didn’t allow on line check in for some
reason for that leg of the trip.
Once that was done Security went pretty quickly as I lucked
into the TSA Pre-Check. This meant I did
not have to take all the liquids and batteries and electronics out of my
carry-on at the scanner. I was not required
to remove my jacket, shoes, belt, or jewelry (watch) before entering the
scanner. Good news! They only had to hand scan and pat down my
knee now so I guess the shoulder surgery paid off. My arm is now a normal shape!
It was a quick trip on the Plane Train to Concourse D and a
long walk down to the distant gate 10.
When I got there the agents were already at the desk but had taken care
of most of the passengers so there was no waiting to get my seat assignment. I requested a window on the right side of the
plane to give my shoulder and arm some protected wiggle room but the first
answer was no, no windows available. As
the man was staring intently at his computer screen while it did the work of
searching I mentioned that it was important to me since I had recently had a
shoulder replacement and wanted to protect it from being bumped too often. The assistant lady was immediately
sympathetic as she had had to have rotator cuff surgery. She was quite surprised that my was the
complete replacement as she, like me until I scheduled it, did not know it was
a possibility. Before I was done Elva
was beside me and graciously watched my bags while I used the rest room and
filled my water bottle. Just as I
returned they were beginning boarding and away we went. I never even sat for a moment at the airport.
My window seat was in row 17! The fight was uneventful and that is fine
with me. On an East Coast domestic
flight there was barely time to pour my complimentary drink. I requested two cups of tea because I knew
they were small and there is no second chance!
I read 50 pages of the true story, non-fiction novel I guess is the
right thing to call it, titled A House in Fez.
I bought it because I thought it might add insight to this trip and
right off the bat I found myself using words and ideas I picked up in that
short space of time. I saved it for the
trip but wish I had read it before time.
As our luck would have it we arrived before the noon
scheduled landing time and since I had checked my bag through and Elva had hers
as a carry-on we immediately left Terminal 1 and made our way a short distance
to #2. There is a funny (to me) story of
New York rudeness but it would be long to tell and not that interesting to you,
so it can wait for a lull in our activities.
The signage at JFK seemed lacking. Elva and I are both ‘seasoned travelers’ but
puzzled over finding where we were to go to begin waiting for the check-in of
our overseas flight. I asked at Korean
Air if they knew where the check in would be it was right around the corner and
the man said it was the last six places and would start at 4:00. We thanked him and headed that way. There were eight chairs in a waiting area
with about twelve people already occupying them. With four hours to wait we gave up and made
our way, Elva dragging her big bag and me my small one, up a nearby escalator
to find lunch. Elva had McDonald’s
coupons with her and persuaded the counter to girl to honor it so we each had
the new Buttermilk Chicken and a Diet Coke.
The Coke was fine. The chicken, if
it is the same everywhere, will not be on the menu long. Crunchy, dry, blackened on one side and a
large, dry, egg roll type of bun. But we
knew service on the plane would be close to 9:30 or 10:00 so we enjoyed.
Eventually we returned to the space where we found even more
people seated, huddled, clustered and lounging on the tile floor of the
terminal. Then a minor miracle. A table
and chairs in the upper level gave up their users and we made our way back past
12 empty counter and scales spots, past more floor sitters, up the escalator
and won the race to comfortable seating with a perfect view of the goal line –
the check in area.
The reason this was important is that Royal Air Maroc also
does not give seat assignments to Economy Class passengers until check in,
which you remember was not allowed until presenting yourself in person. We chatted while waiting comfortably,
comparatively speaking, until I spotted activity below us as a uniformed man
began to set the stanchions and barriers to form the queue line. We beat a hasty retreat and became the second
in line for the next piece of the puzzle.
I once again requested a window seat, definitely did not
want a center seat for an overseas journey, and again mentioned my surgical
recovery (which shall remain ‘recent’ for travel purposes for some time to
come!). The man was very nice as we chatted about his home country about which
he was proud to make recommendations. Magically 17K was available! I said my
friend Elva also would like a window if possible, maybe in front of or behind
me. Not available but Bam! Suddenly 17A was just waiting for her.
We headed to security which had us in short lines but they
intertwined at the scanners and the wait was not bad since we had nowhere to go
for several more hours. At JFK that day
they were not having anyone remove anything from themselves or their bags. Every airport is different and the same
airport can follow different rules on different days. After the scanner we met up again with Cindy
who was in line at the desk with us. She
had been in NYC since 7:30 that morning after taking the Red Eye from LAX! We wandered past the elegant Duty Free Shops
to a few pathetic kiosk/counters of pre-packaged foods and the one well
occupied bar/restaurant to find Cindy a Diet Coke. Taking it and her in tow we trekked to the
center and out the other wing to the farthest point to our Gate. Gate 2.
We were the first to arrive.
As others did everyone seemed to settle in for the long haul and not
close to anyone they would have to speak to.
Gradually we spotted other orange tags and knew they were on our tour. After another hour or so Elva and I left our
bags with Cindy and set out to find dinner.
Turns out all the restaurants, limited though they are, are
upstairs. To reach them you have to go
outside which would mean that upon returning you would pass security
again. End of Option 1!
Finding nothing promising we made our way back through the
full lengths of the terminal to Gate 2.
Right there was a Starbuck’s.
Success Option 2.
Another hour of chatting to the point of already running out
of things to say and we noticed that suddenly a whole bunch of people leapt up
and headed to Gate 3. We figured we better follow. And Yes, Gate 3 in terminal 2 at JFK is also
an unmarked Gate 2!
Boarding went quickly and Elva and I were both delighted
when the doors closed and the center seat was unoccupied. Pretty sure our check in guy did that for us
by blocking those which remained the only two empty seats in economy. I was happy to chat about his country with
him and I think he was glad to have someone recognize him as a person and be
interested.
Take off was smooth and the Flight Attendants were
nice. Leg space was limited but with the
extra empty space it was fine. Since it was already dark and we headed right
out over the water there was no view until early morning and that was a heavy
cloud cover.
Dinner on the plane was served shortly after takeoff and was
actually delicious. Salmon was perfectly
grilled and the mashed potatoes were realistic. A very dark, rich brownie with
thick ganache and a raspberry filling was a delicious dessert. My seat mate put
down the table in the center seat to give us room to place extra items.
I watched two movies, Big Eyes and The Second Best Marigold
Hotel. As a sequel it was still quite
good and Big Eyes was an interesting story.
A strong woman emerges from her shell the more that her unsuccessful
husband tries to pretend to be the successful partner in the marriage. A unique story of abuse and the overcoming
spirit. But still, in a way, he was a
success. He was a promoter and helped to
create the success of the paintings but should never have taken credit for work
not his own.
I got up to walk around awhile and ending up standing in the
galley talking to a pilot! Not our pilot but one returning home for two weeks
in NYC with his wife and young daughter.
Another pilot was deadheading and the time turned delightful. I tried to walk away a couple of times but
the conversation turned from me asking them about Morocco to them wanting to
understand taxes. They couldn’t see why
if something was priced at one number, when you went to pay it was significantly
higher. They kept giving me new
examples. And about tipping. They felt they were told to pay a certain
amount. The dinner check would arrive
with $ amounts at the bottom as suggestions and the high one would have a heart
or a smiley face drawn around it. They
felt this meant if they wanted to be nice and well liked they would give this
amount. On the way back to my seat I got involved in a long conversation with
fellow tour mates who told me a great deal about themselves and the friends
their fellow travelers.
I returned to my seat.
As usual I didn’t sleep on the plane as it was only a five and a half
hour flight, or maybe six so I finished my movie. By then I could see that sunlight was
beginning to brighten the sky. As the sun was coming up there was thick cloud
cover. This changed to dark, like spoiled, cauliflower clouds bubbling beneath
us. Then a smooth waving of quilted clouds like a puffy comforter before we
began our descent to the invisible coast of Morocco.
Signage was also very poor at Mohammed V airport. Even with asking directions it took the
several of us a few missed turns and wrong turns to find Passport Control. The lines was long and slow but this worked
to our advantage as our bags were already off the carousel by the time we got
there to claim them. Cindy panicked
because her bag was not there but finally she spotted it behind the moving belt
and got the attention of someone to retrieve it for her. We made our way out of the area to the
meeting area to look for our Smartours guide.
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