White Plains’ 4th Best Personal Blog

I’m sitting at a Starbucks in a relatively deserted corner of Madrid Barajas airport, drinking an iced latte and waiting for my connecting flight to Tenerife Norte (Los Rodeos). Tough life, right? But especially on long journeys like this one, I’m reminded that traveling isn’t always as great as it sounds. It can be tiring, confusing and soul-crushing, sometimes simultaneously. Luckily I’ve had a pretty uneventful trip so far, but I’m not there yet. By the time I get to Tenerife, I will have been in transit for more than 24 hours with all the griminess and fatigue that entails. And I’m sure that my blood pressure has gone up at least a few ticks from stressing about making my flight to London Gatwick last night (rush-hour traffic on the Van Wyck Expressway) and worrying about whether my bag will make it (checked through on three separate flights=many opportunities to get lost).

If you’ve got unlimited financial resources or someone taking care of all the details, then I suppose travel is pretty easy. But if you’re trying to do it, more or less, on your own, then it gets tougher. Aside from the things I’ve already mentioned, you’re also worried about whether you’ve complied with all of the different luggage restrictions (weight, liquids, number of bags); about being able to function when you don’t really speak the primary language in a given country; about whether reservations and arrangements you’ve made on the Internet will all work out and what you’ll do if you don’t. And that’s on top of your normal travel concerns like being pickpocketed or otherwise robbed, losing or breaking something important and just getting around.

Then there are instances when you might do everything right and still run into problems. I witnessed this on a very small scale while waiting to clear security for my flight from London to Madrid. Right in front of me in line was a slightly harried Italian couple with a small child. They had with them what looked like a souvenir umbrella — a full-length one, with a wooden tip — still wrapped in its plastic sheath. Evidently, they had no problem carrying it on the plane with them in New York, but they were told they couldn’t bring it through now.  When the man protested, he was told, “That’s New York, this is England.” If they wanted to bring the umbrella with them, they would have to go back to the ticket counter, check it and then go through security again. To me, that would be the height of frustration because how are you supposed to know that? Ultimately, I realize I’m extremely fortunate to travel as much as I do, so don’t cry for me. But I think it’s also worth pointing out that being the proverbial stranger in a strange land isn’t a total cakewalk either.

UPDATE: Somewhat miraculously, my bag actually arrived without incident in Tenerife! I must commend British Airways and Iberia and the entire OneWorld alliance on this one. Muchas gracias!