April 29, 2024 Monday

Heritage tour to Ethiopia

In the spring of 2023, I broached the subject with John that I’d like to take the boys Becky and Kevin had adopted from Ethiopia to their home country. He thought that would be great. Then I brought it up to Becky and Kevin. They also thought it would be great. I wanted Becky to come along. I knew I would appreciate the parental influence on our two young men, ages 13 and 14.

Being the fair-minded person I am, I realized that I’d have to take all the grandchildren on a Heritage trip. “No one else expects you to do that,” Becky protested. “That’s okay,” I said, “I want to.”

For Christmas 2023, John and I gave Becky and Kevin’s children a brochure I made up for their travel. Micah and Sam got one for Ethiopia, Hudson for the British Isles, and Addie for China. Age 13 seemed a good age for them to go on a Heritage trip. They would be old enough for a long trip and young enough to want to hang out with their grandparents. I told Mark I’d take his kids too, but we all thought at age 9, it was too early for them to know about the trip.

Booking the trip

I found a tour to Ethiopia offered by Overseas Adventure Travel (or O.A.T. as they will be called from now on). In April of 2023, Becky and I spent more than an hour on a conference call with an O.A.T. representative booking the trip. We were working around Becky’s nursing school schedule and anything John and I might be doing a year from then. We settled on O.A.T.’s May 5 – May 19 offering. In booking it a year early, I got some nice discounts. Now all we needed to do was wait for a year which seemed like a very long time, but came more quickly than I thought it would.

Later, O.A.T. informed us that they’d routed our flights from DFW to Istanbul to Addis Ababa, the capital city of Ethiopia. Eight months before the trip started, Becky said, “I know some people who live in Istanbul. Do you think we could go early and stay in Istanbul for a couple of days?” We agreed, thinking a few days wouldn’t make a difference. Becky called O.A.T. and made the flight changes. One thing I like about O.A.T. is that they are very nice about not caring when you leave a layover city. Turned out that adding a few days made a long trip even longer (duh), but I can’t say I’m sorry we did it now.

First travel day on our first Heritage trip

Funny thing about planning a trip so far in advance. It feels like it will never happen and then all of a sudden it is time to go. O.A.T. suggested we get yellow fever shots and malaria meds. We did that. Becky had to get the boys their passports and get her passport renewed. And when the day finally arrived, we were ready. Sort of.

We left the house early to drop off Sadi for dog sitting and got to Julie’s house around 9:20. She’d left the garage door open for us, which we took as an invitation to just bring the dog in. Both her dogs, Charlie and Sami, were there, so that was three crazy dogs at once. Charlie wasn’t any better behaved than Sami was. I was exhausted by the time we left and I know Sadi was in good hands even if the energy level was a bit high. I’m sure they calmed down after we left.

Shot records

In our packing, I couldn’t find the paper record of our receiving the yellow fever immunizations. I looked everywhere and never found it. I know it was in the folder that the company gave us, but where I put it is unknown.

O.A.T. told us we didn’t need to show proof upon arrival that we’d had the shots, but if yellow fever broke out in an area we were in, we’d need the proof that we’d been immunized, so they’d let us leave the country. I wasn’t willing to take that chance, so I made an appointment with the company where we’d gotten the shots to get a copy of the immunization for a rather exorbitant fee given it took less than fifteen minutes and was a scrap of paper.

We got to the company’s office with 15 minutes to spare before our appointment. As we drove there, I worried we’d be late. I felt some relief that I was wrong. We found the office without any problem. They had the door locked, I guess the nurses were in there by themselves. I had assumed that there was one only but the person who opened the door was not the person who helped us. The blond lady who let us in asked us to have a seat in the waiting area. Then a dark-haired woman came out of another office and called us in. She had the replacement cards ready for us, so all I had to do was pay her. I put those expensive replacement cards in the pocket of our carry-on bag with the passports.

Trouble with security

When we booked with O.A.T., John and I didn’t think about how we would get to DFW. About two months out, we decided that we didn’t want to drive up there and leave our car at either their house or the airport parking lot, so we booked a flight to DFW and home on American Airlines.

Unfortunately, we had some trouble getting through security in Austin. We have TSA Pre-check (which I think is the best $80 we’ve ever spent). Unfortunately, the TSA person wouldn’t let me take a 22-inch bag with my hiking sticks in it on the plane. I had read that it might be a possibility this would happen. I’d made it through to Alaska and back with them in a carry-on bag, but different agents read the rules differently. At least, they didn’t try to confiscate them. I love those sticks.

I showed the TSA guy the hiking hat and the hiking shoes in the bag, but he wasn’t impressed. Seriously, how much damage could a hiking stick do? None. But no, I couldn’t take them on the plane as a carry-on. Fine.

Back to the ticketing counter

I suggested John go on to our gate while I took the bag to be checked. The TSA agent took me the back way through the scanning area to where I could go to the American Airlines ticket counter. I talked to a nice man who sent me to a nice lady who helped me check the bag at a kiosk. At first, the computer wanted to charge me $40 for the bag, but she figured out how to tell it that I wanted to carry it on, but could not. Free. Yay. I was glad that got done.

I went back through security and found John at a gate. He’d sent me a text that he was sitting at gate 27 by the windows across from our gate which was 28. From there we had a clear view of our gate. There was a line from hell at the check-in part of our gate. We kept wondering if they were going to move us to another gate, but no, evidently that line from hell didn’t impact our boarding at all. I assume they were re-ticketing a problem flight. I was just relieved it wasn’t us.

In Dallas

The flight to DFW was uneventful. I do love uneventful flights. Once we landed, we had to go get our checked bag. We’d flown American to Dallas but would be flying Turkish Airlines to Istanbul. Our bag was the first one off. Yay! John commented it must have been the last one on. Worked for me as long as it came off.

Then we had to figure out how to get to a different terminal. We went outside and ended up getting on a shuttle that took us to terminal D where Turkish Airlines flew out. The driver had to go to B first, then E, and we finally got to D.

In the process, the van was going over all kinds of potholes in the road and jerking to start and stop at each terminal. On top of that, the roads at the airport go in circles. I swear, I was getting car sick. I was so glad we got to D and could get off. We tipped the driver. He’d been nice and got our bags on and off, even though his driving had made me nauseated.

Problems with ticketing

Weeks earlier when we received our ticket information from O.A.T., I was assigned to sit with Micah, Sam with Becky, and John by himself though the actual boarding passes had not been issued. I called Turkish Airlines and asked about seat assignments. The ticket agent on the phone assured me the flight was not full and we’d be able to change seats at the airport with no problem. He even told me there were only 30 people on a 100-seat plane. None of which was true.

As we walked into terminal D, I suggested to John that we just check both 22-inch bags. I didn’t want to deal with trying to carry on the bag with the hiking poles again. If we were checking one, we might as well check the other. John agreed. So, we did that.

I asked about changing seats when we checked in and got boarding passes. She was no help. She just passed the buck to the ticketing agent at the gate and said to ask them.

Found another problem

As we walked away from the ticketing counter, I realized we did not have TSA pre-check on the tickets to Turkey and then I saw that the ticketing agent had given me boarding passes for Micah and me, not John and me even though I’d handed her John’s passport. Bad move, lady.

I went back to the counter and got that changed and I asked her about TSA precheck. She told me she could fix that if I had our TSA pre-check numbers. I had mine on my phone. John did not. Bother.

We went off across the concourse and huddled by an unused ticket counter where I called O.A.T. to see if they had John’s number. We’d given it to them, but alas, the person I talked to did not. Then Becky and the boys walked in the sliding doors to our left. What a pleasure to see them. We gave hugs all around. John and I decided to ditch the TSA precheck hassle and just go through security with them. Becky got them checked in at the ticket counter and got boarding passes for her three.

Security dogs

The boys, John, and I got into what we thought was a security line while Becky went to find out if it was a TSA line. Sometimes those lines are so long you don’t know where they start. She came back saying she’d been told the other line was a shorter wait, so we went there.

The new line that Becky had found took us to an area with what I assumed were drug-sniffing dogs. Maybe they were explosive sniffing. No one tells you those kinds of things.

The line led to a pair of official-looking people (I’m assuming they were TSA agents) at the opening of a 15-foot by 10-foot rectangle created by barriers with a set of large fans at the opposite end blowing toward us. The TSA agents had us pair up, and then walk side-by-side to the longest end of the rectangle. As each pair walked, a TSA agent stopped the next pair and then told them when to walk. He seemed to be leaving six or so feet between each pair who walked towards the fans. The dog walked behind each pair weaving between the pairs of people as they walked past. The dog walked in the wake of the breeze from the fan.

I guess it could sniff you that way. Who knows? I’d never experienced anything like it. After being “sniffed,” when we got to the X-ray machine where we didn’t have to take off our shoes or take the liquids out of the bag. It was just like a TSA pre-check line, which made me happy.

Next: Dinner

Ah, the joys of being through security and still having time before your flight boards. Next up: Food. Becky and I went to get a salad from Artisan Market. I wanted something green. I’d had a peanut butter muffin for breakfast and trail mix for lunch. There were some vitamins and fiber in those, but still. John took the boys to fast food Whataburger and Chik-fil-A. We ate those as we waited for our flight.

At the DFW gate, I talked to a Turkish Airline gate agent about getting John’s and my seats changed. He said sure, come back to the counter when the wheelchairs started lining up and they’d get those seats changed.

As soon as I saw wheelchairs lining up, I went to the ticket counter and talked to a different man who said he couldn’t help, and maybe talk to the flight crew. That’s when I started to despair.

Seat issues continue

We got on board and John was in a middle seat in the middle row of seats in row 10. Micah and I were assigned row 33 G & H which were not even together but had an aisle between us. Becky and Sam were in row 29 or 30 in front of us sitting together.

Becky took matters into her own hands to fix their bad seating arrangement. When a single man started to sit in the seat next to Sam and her, she asked him if he minded swapping with her son, so they could sit together. He said he would. That was generous of him because he had to move a few rows back to take Micah’s seat but he got an aisle seat, so maybe that convinced him. That got Becky and the boys together.

On the other hand, I sat in my middle seat feeling more and more sad because if I kept quiet, I was going to have to do a 12-hour flight by myself with no one to lean on when I wanted to sleep. I don’t know how single people fly. The seats beside me stayed empty for a long time until a man and a kid about Sam’s age sat in them.

Did John sit in the middle seat with two other men poking him in the ribs for a 12-hour flight? Did Susan have to figure out how to sleep without John to lean on?

See next week’s post for the answers to these questions.