The Missing Day

Or, the Case of the Suspicious Scissors

On Tuesday, October 27, 2009, Ryan and I woke up. That in itself was auspicious, since it means we went to sleep, a feat we thought beyond accomplishment on the night before our Big Trip™.

Our adventure really began months before, when we began packing everything up at 9983 Braddock, separating what we’d need for an 8-month homelessness from the things that could be safely packed away in Ryan’s parents’ spare room while we were abroad. Things started getting hairy about three of four weeks before D-Day (Departure Day) when we started skimping on sleep to get more things into boxes, to sell off nearly all of our furniture and trim what we could, and to make all our last minute purchases of global band cell phones, travel clothes and packs, anti-malarial medicines, vaccinations, and so on. Shorter nights became short nights, and eventually we were cycling through insomniac nights of cat naps, double espressos and dozing off whenever there was time to stand around. We picked up the first moving truck on Thursday (October 22) and knew we would run out of room by the end of the day. On Friday, we rented a second moving truck (fortunately much smaller). On Saturday, we finished loading both trucks and picked up a tow trailer for the car (now lacking a spare driver) and I took off with truck number 1, the big one. That excitement is written about elsewhere, but it suffices to say we were sure that it would take nearly as much time to unload as it had to load the trucks, and we would be dashing to stack the last box and return the truck Tuesday afternoon on the way to the airport. Instead, Ryan’s family came though with amazing efficiency and both trucks were unloaded and swept out by Sunday night. That is why it is incredible that on Tuesday, October 27, 2009, Ryan and I woke up.

Tuesday morning was spent with the final errands and adieus. Ryan’s whole family assembled for lunch at a Mongolian Barbecue restaurant, and although traffic made us a little later to the airport than I’d hoped, everything turned out just fine … meaning we made the flight.

First flight, Phoenix to Los Angeles.

This was a short flight, and I think I slept the whole way to LAX.

Second flight, LAX to Taipei, Taiwan.

Because we were switching to an international flight, we had to exit our terminal and walk to the international departures terminal, which meant going through security again. No biggie, I had expected this and was prepared for it. I dumped my water out (I’d filled an empty water bottle at the water fountain in Arizona) and filled the bottle fresh after breezing through the checkpoint.

We were served several meals on the plane. I’d signed up for the vegetarian meal as I usually do—(1. I would rather avoid meat from whatever unknown source the airlines gets it, and 2. I think the vegetarian meals on airplanes are usually – not always – more creative.)—but there was a problem. About a week before we left, Ryan was informed by Expedia that China Airlines had changed our flight and a new paper ticket would have to be issued, after mailing back the current paper ticket. Because we were due to leave LA so soon, the new tickets were sent to Arizona (and that turned out okay, despite a false alarm that the flights were being changed again after our tickets were already switched once and were no longer available to us until we arrived in Phoenix), but apparently during the swap, my vegetarian meal request was dropped. So when the meals came and we had a choice of meats, I asked for the vegetarian option, and had to wait to see if any of the crew vegetarian meals were left over. One was, and it was fairly tasty. I don’t remember what the meat options were (chicken or salmon?), but mine was a plate of rice with a white gravy and bits of tofu and vegetables. My request also extended to breakfast on the same flight, and they said they would contact the next leg of my flight and pass the request on there as well.

So for breakfast, my vegetarian meal came early, and it was … rice with a white gravy and bits of tofu and vegetables. Great. Then when they came to Ryan, he was offered a choice between Chinese culture breakfast and eggs + sausage. He chose the eggs because the Chinese culture breakfast was … rice with a white gravy and bits of tofu and vegetables. Yay again.

After a 14 hour flight in which the sun never rose, and we had breakfast at midnight and supper at 4 in the morning (8 hours later?), we arrived in Taipei.

Scissors, episode 1.

After landing in Taiwan, we had to catch a connecting flight to Bangkok. Our original flight plans put us on a direct flight to Chiang Mai, Thailand, from here, but the flight was cancelled and now we had to go through Bangkok (this was what required the paper tickets to be reissued). That flight was in a different terminal, so we had to exit security and go back through it again. There was a bit of confusion finding the right check-in desk because China Air is not the same as Air China.

In the United States, the TSA restricts certain items in your carryon luggage. Among these restricted items are scissors over 4 inches long. Shorter scissors are okay, and both pairs of my sewing scissors had made it through two security check points thus far, as had my utili-key knife (an ingenious pocket knife in the shape of a key so that it can go through security x-ray machines). The Chinese, however, had more active imaginations, and apparently someone had thought of a way for me to do devastating damage with a 2-inch pair of scissors. Admittedly, I had worried that the short scissors would be confiscated because they would violate the airline safety regulations, but the guidelines set forth by the TSA said they were okay, so I went with that. The Chinese checkpoint guard said that China had a different policy, and thus, no scissors. In addition to stealing my scissors, they took my passport to log my transgression, and then made me sign a receipt of my loss (at least that’s what the guard seemed to be saying).

The security guard also took out and set aside my second pair of scissors (red plastic with a thin strip of metal for the cutting blades), but eventually decided that sharp scissors (the ones in question here) were dangerous but blunt, rounded nosed scissors were not. After warily eyeing my red, blunt scissors (tied shut with spare sewing thread, even), the guard returned both passport and plastic scissors to me with an admonishing air, and I was on my way again.

Scissors II: Taiwan to Bangkok, with a stopover in Hong Kong.

With my pack lighter by a pair of scissors (but thankfully not by a dual pair of scissors), we boarded the flight to Bangkok. The ticket gate had some unwelcome news for us: our flight to Bangkok (supposedly direct) would be stopping in Hong Kong along the way. I assumed that this was like other supposedly direct flights I’ve had in the States, on which the airplane touches down briefly to disgorge some passengers and take on their replacements, while through-riders just stay on the plane during the short stop. Oh, silly assumptions. On this direct flight from Taipei to Bangkok, we disembarked at Hong Kong and walked to another terminal, which meant yet another security check point. I had no pointy, less-than-four-inch scissors for them to swipe anymore, but they still wanted me to open my bag and take out my little red, plastic, blunt-nosed scissors, wrapped in black thread, and they still set them aside while pawing through the rest of the stuff. After group consultation, however, they returned them to me and we could board flight #4.

Scissors III: The Possible Trilogy (Hong Kong to Bangkok.)

The sun finally rose while we were in Hong Kong, and on either this flight or the previous one we were served breakfast. My vegetarian request had been relayed, and so they were happy to bring me another plate of rice with white gravy and bits of tofu and vegetables. (Note that I was definitely getting tired of this dish at every meal, but I also didn’t envy the meat dishes Ryan was getting. I guess it was a bad hand dealt all around.)

Perhaps I slept on this flight – I think I did, and soon enough we were in Bangkok, Thailand. This meant switching from the international arrivals terminal to a domestic terminal, passing through customs, and, of course, another security check. I don’t remember if I had to show off my red scissors again, but I think so. I am wondering if the thin metal blade (just a strip of metal) on these scissors would be little enough to set off the metal detector, or if I could save a lot of trouble by just wearing them in my pocket. Or presenting them at the gate each time? Whatever it is, it’s tedious to guess at.

Bangkok to Chiang Mai, final flight.

I was so relieved to be done with airport foibles that I wrote nothing about this flight. I think I napped, as well, since it was supposedly getting close to evening on Thursday. Somehow Wednesday had slipped into the ether, waiting until we passed by this way again next February. (On that return flight we’ll arrive in Los Angeles before we leave New Zealand, making for exciting investment schemes!)

When we landed in Chiang Mai, it was night again, and we did nothing but take a taxi to our hotel. I’ve decided that it can be useful for prospective visitors to Thailand (any who stumble across this blog) to know the prices of things, and since things in Thailand are rather inexpensive, I’m including prices where I can. Anyhow, the taxi ride was 70 baht, plus a 50 baht airport origination fee. That’s about what the guidebook advised, so everything was fine so far.

Ah, Chiang Mai – we are so excited to see your mystery, your splendor, your history – tomorrow, after 12 hours of sleep!


Our room at The Small Hotel