There...

As I so often do, I apologize for not posting sooner.  Between jet lag and the holidays--and our anniversary tomorrow--I've been swamped.  But for now, we'll start with going out there.

The first snag Adam and I hit was his ESTA.  For those who don't know, the ESTA replaces the green card that used to get stapled into the passports (and then removed upon leaving) of "ferriners" from visa waiver countries (aka those who are less "ferrin"--or more white--than other "ferriners").  In all their stupidity, the US has started charging for $14 for ESTA--$4 admin and $10 "tourist tax."  Most people pay it without a second thought (don't have it, can't enter), but I think it's ridiculous.  Regardless, we knew that, and so Adam made a point of renewing his ESTA (good for 2 years) just before the charges came in.  Therefore, we knew that it would be good for this year's trip.  But just in case, Adam decided to check the ESTA status about 18 hours before we flew.  Sidenote: you're supposed to apply at least 72 hours in advance.

Problem.  Adam tried to access it online using his name and passport number.  System can't find him.  Tried to access it using the number I copied down.  Can't find it.  Tried multiple times, multiple ways.  Either can't find it, or more worrying, it's invalid.  Well shit.

Finally, I tried a different tact.  See, I knew they might want proof at the airport that he had ESTA, so I copied down the number from the copy he wrote down, and chucked it in the passport case.  That's the copy he used, after not bothering to check my copy against his (which I asked him to do for this very reason).  So when everything else is failing, I went digging around on my computer for a copy of his ESTA number, which I found in our flight stuff from last year (and proof why never deleting travel files is good).  Tried the correct number, and he's all happy to travel.  But the ESTA website still sucks, since searching via name and passport number said he didn't exist (those were correct in system and he was copying it from his passport).

Our next snag was not a snag.  It was a lovely, if not very restful, night at the Radisson Blu hotel in Manchester Airport.  Cue commercial here, but we love the place.  It's not cheap--the cheapest is about £70 a night--but it's clean, big, clean, nice, clean, in the airport, and clean.  There's nothing like sleeping in an airport for convenience for those flights at stupid o'clock, but unlike racking out on (or under) benches or on the floor, this is an actual hotel, with heated bathroom floors (seriously), nice big beds, big rooms, TV, and privacy.  We talked about someplace cheaper, but decided that the Radisson couldn't be beat for knowing what we were getting (clean and less than 1% chance of death, rape, mugging, or bedbugs) and likelihood of making the flights (very high).

Checking in was a snag, however.  I think the Continental staff at Manchester was either all brand-spanking-new, or else they got yelled at recently, because we had the most anal-retentive, "but this is what the form says and I must fill out the form" staff I've ever seen.  The security questions guy in line I thought was going to subdue me for the police when he asked if I had anything that could be classed as weapons and I said my keys.  Then we get up to the counter, and because Adam isn't a citizen/visa holder, they need an address for him for the first night.  Normally, the hotel name and city is enough, but not for this lady.  Nor was my parents' address enough.  No, she had to have the hotel for that night.  That is not what she ultimately got, and had we taken a bump (more on that later) we wouldn't have even been in the same time zone.  So after she went all bitchy on me and I went all bitchy back, and they don't have internet, so I had to pay on my phone to use it (which is why I was all bitchy) I gave her the Napa hotel address because I knew where to find that, rather than from a website I'd not been to before.  And when she said in a nasty voice "Is this where you're staying tonight?" I said back, just as nasty, "Yes."  Next time, Adam/I is either lying or making it up.  On the west coast, zip codes all start with a 9, so just give them five numbers starting with a 9 and everyone is good.

Until we got to Newark, all was fine.  Boring, cattle class, and shitty, but fine.  Newark, however, doesn't appear to have any bathrooms.  Adam decided he didn't want to use the first one we saw off the plane, because everyone uses that one.  Turns out in Newark that's because it's the only one.  So we hopped in line for passport control.  His line, not mine, because, well, we feel it's safer.  About 35 minutes later (Adam still hasn't peed, despite there being a loo next to the insanely long border control line that people were hopping out of line to use then hopping back in--something that works well when travelling with others) we finally made it to the front of the line, where our guy then proceeded to go take a leak for about 5 minutes.  Hey, when you gotta pee you gotta pee.  Then the two men right in front of us created a hold-up.  Not sure why, but the one guy's answer to all questions was "yes, I know him."  Didn't matter the question, that was the answer, and presumably all the English he spoke (or for those who know about a previous trip of mine "train come every 10 minutes").  So he got hauled off to a separate room, presumably to find someone who spoke whatever language it was he spoke--I didn't recognize the passport.  Then the guy had to log the thing.  Then Adam and I got called up.  First words we hear?  "Why are you here?"  So I explain that while I'm a citizen, Adam's not.  "Yeah, but why are you here?  You're a citizen.  Take him through your line--you shouldn't have to wait."  He barely looked at my passport, he barely biometric'd Adam--a thumb and a finger, instead of all 10 fingers/thumbs, and we're through.

And still no bathrooms.

Finally, we got the luggage, cleared customs, rechecked the luggage, and eventually found a bathroom.  Or maybe we got lost trying to go through Newark's insanely bad security set-up first.  I can't remember, but two things come to mind.  First, pee when you see a loo in Newark, because you may never see one again, and second, don't go through Newark, because the security set-up there may even be worse than O'Hare, and O'Hare's used to be the worst I'd ever seen (unless it's changed since 2006, it was in no way able to handle the amount of people who need to go through it, and it backs up into the escalators so you nearly die trying to get off).

Eventually though, Adam peed, I probably peed, and we found our gate.  Where we were informed that our scheduled plane was no longer available (don't know why, but I'm guessing it was late or not coming in at all), so they crammed us into a significantly smaller plane.  As in something like 25 seats smaller.  They needed to bump 25 people--I'm betting that flight was also oversold, a practice that I'm rapidly thinking should be banned, though it did prove to be beneficial for us (as will be documented in "...and Back Again.").  Regardless of what was really going on, they were offering hotel, 2-4 food vouchers a person (depending on the number of meals between then and the new flight), and $700 a head for people to take later flights.  For 25 people.  Because that's what happens when you oversell flights and everyone turns up to take the flight.  Instead of making money, you have to spend $17,500, plus hotel and food.  Only 5 people took the bump that I know of though, so no idea what happened to the other 20 people who didn't get on the flight (we checked in about 30 hours before that flight so they couldn't bump us as being the last to check in).

That flight was horrible.  Seat-back entertainment, at $7.99 for the flight.  And people pay it!  Idiots.  We're charged more and more, given less and less, and expected to thank them for the chance to pay for things that should be part of the ticket.  While I don't think entertainment is necessary, I should get to take a bag with me for free--since that's part of travelling, when it gets right down to it--and be fed at least a token meal for free. Instead, they charge a quarter to a sixth of what cable costs a month (unless you have a stupidly expensive cable/satellite package) for a few hours, cram you in as tightly as possible, and give you a tiny little box of food for a huge amount of money.  Adam and I watched (without sound) the entertainment of the people in front of us who paid (idiots), and starved.  We starved because all our food went into the hold when they had to gate-check all the rolling bags because people no longer check luggage because it costs money (if they have to gate-check it, it's free to the passenger, because it's allowed on board normally).

Ranting done, but that was one of the absolute worst flights I've been on in a long time, and I flew not long after 9/11, 7/7, and the debacle that restricted liquids to 3 oz.  But thankfully, when we landed in SFO, Mom and Dad met us, and then proceeded to take us to an In-n-Out Burger for our collective first In-n-Out experience.  We all enjoyed it well enough, but I think I prefer Sonic Burger (which I've also only eaten at once).

I will endeavor to write about Napa and Eugene at some point, but the next time I get around to the blog will be for our return trip, because that was less horrible (in most ways) and much more lucrative.  Also much longer, but did I mention it was more lucrative?