I collapsed into my aisle plane seat and promptly fell asleep.
As I have been posting about, I started traveling from Venezuela to Houston in order to make it home for the holidays.
Sleeping on the plane was my first reprieve since the day’s 2:45 AM beginning. I woke up with a start in my plane seat–feeling more relaxed–but realizing something was amiss.
I could see grass, and the plane wasn’t moving.
I checked my watch. I had been asleep for 90 minutes.
Turning to the married couple beside me, I asked if the plane had ever taken off. It had not. We had sat on the tarmac the entire time I was asleep, and they were furious.
I was supposed to have a two hour layover in Atlanta. Now, I was in jeopardy of missing my Houston connection. Sighing, I resigned myself to the fact that I would be sleeping in Atlanta. After all the day’s drama, I had no energy left to be upset. I would cough up the money for a hotel room (or try to get the airline to do so).
Minutes later as the plane rumbled into the air, I wondered what else could possibly go wrong.
Nothing, it turns out. Atlanta was an hour behind Aruba, so I made my connection without a problem. Though it’s the busiest airport in the world, I absolutely love the Atlanta airport.
When I finally saw my parents, a second rush of energy overtook me. I chatted in the car the entire 1.5 hour ride home.
And my luggage? It didn’t arrive until Christmas Eve thanks to Insel Air’s improper tagging. Though they will be getting a complaint e-mail from me, I’m glad I was able to spend Christmas cooking, bowling, opening gifts, and loving with my family in my country. Yes, I’ve been in bed recovering from travel and a virus, but I’m home.