En route.....

The following morning I got up early and saw my mom off via shuttle to Reagan Airport. After that I went back to bed for a couple hours. Knowing that I wouldn't get any good rest on the plane I figured I should get as much sleep as I could before I started traveling.

When the alarm sounded I got up, dressed and finished packing everything into my big bag with a few things stuffed into my carry on. When the time came I called the front desk and they moved my big bag downstairs where I waited for my shuttle. It was a few minutes late and had me worrying. I was already worried about making all my connections, collecting my bag along the way and all of this with a sprained ankle that needed rest but instead was getting international travel! But just as I was starting to obsess it pulled into the hotel drive.

The shuttle picked up a few more people before dropping us at our respective terminals. I hefted my pack onto my back and said, "Ok, Bridget, you can do this". I started walking down the length of the corridor and after a stretch didn't see Virgin America anywhere. What? I started back because I knew they were located inside Terminal 1. After perusing all the signs I saw a smallish one that led me to their desk that was, unintuitively, around a corner. I wrestled the hip belt from my bag, secured it and put the whole thing into it's carry bag. This I lugged a mercifully short distance to the counter where I checked in without incident. I asked if they could communicate to my connecting flight that I would need a wheelchair to make my connection at LAX. They made the arrangements and asked if I wanted to be wheeled to my gate. I asked how far it was to which they replied, "Kind of far" and then called for a wheelchair. It was good thing we did this. We took a tram then went through a maze of corridors, via the elevators of course, before finally arriving at the gate. As luck would have it there was a Chipotle right next to my gate so I hobbled over and tucked into what would be my last Chipotle meal (and Coke to drink). :) :(

After that I settled in to wait for the flight to start boarding. We flew, with relatively few bumps, to LAX and this time I had magazines, books and a movie screen to keep my busy. Arriving at LAX I was whisked away to my gate in record time. I then stopped by Duty Free for one last Clinique item that had been overlooked when I went shopping earlier in the week. Finding a seat near the gate I sank into it and wondered if I should request a seat change for this flight. I was worried about my ankle and how it would fair. I mean, you get foot swelling during these long flights under normal circumstances. In the end I decided to go up and ask. All they could say was no. So I did. The desk agent took a look at the empty seats and found a "G" that would be perfect for me. So, there are three seats on each bulkhead and four in the middle of the plane. "G" seats are the farthest to the right in the middle section. She put me there because there wasn't anyone sitting in the two seats to the left of it. That way I could put my foot up for part of the flight. This was a lifesaver. I also explained my predicament to a flight attendant and she kept me stocked with bags of ice to pack around my foot. This was no surprise - Air New Zealand has top service! I was pleased that I was able to sleep some of the night and move around enough to stay relatively comfortable. We had no turbulence for which I was grateful. After taking a couple bizarro vegetarian meals, watching a couple movies and sleeping on and off we were making our descent into Auckland! Hooray!

From there, with the help of Air New Zealand staff, was put in another wheelchair and then wheeled over to collect my bag before heading through Customs and Immigration checkpoints. The woman who helped me was a wizard as she managed to push me (to be fair it was a wheelchair that could only be pushed from behind, that is, I couldn't push it!) and maneuver my big bag on a cart. Soon we had dropped off my bag again and were heading through Immigration. I declared my Tylenol with codeine because, if they looked in my bag, they would've found it straightaway. The woman asked, "So what drugs are you bringing it with you?". I explained the ankle situation front the low vantage point of the wheelchair and she was happy enough. Then I needed to transfer to the Domestic Terminal. We boarded the shuttle bus and the attendant who was with me asked a gentleman who had just sat down if I could have his seat. She took very good care of me. We disembarked the bus and she left me with one of her colleagues who took me to my gate where she verified my information to make sure we were in the right place. From there the desk agents asked if I could walk on the plane to which I responded, "Yes". However, one of them was a woman in her 50s, probably a mom. She insisted that she wheel me on board. At that point I was exhausted and not arguing with anyone. :) After getting situated in my seat another wheelchair bound woman boarded with her husband. She had a broken foot so we commiserated for a few minutes while everyone else piled into their seats around us.

The little flight, just 46 minutes, went quickly and I was preparing myself for the stereotypically bumpy landing in Wellington. But it never happened. We landed with a few small bumps and I thought, "Yes! Soon I'll see Timmy!". They opened the doors and a wheelchair came to get me. I was scanning faces as soon as we emerged from the jetway. And there he was! After everything I had made it home. Within a few minutes we picked up my bag and I breathed a sigh of relief. For some reason I always wonder if my bag will arrive when I travel.

From there we took a cab home where I found that Timmy had bought all my favorite NZ things (like Tim Tams and cider) in addition to some gorgeous fresh flowers. It goes without saying: IT WAS SO GOOD TO BE HOME! :)