Leaving St. Lucia...
We were almost ready for an 11 AM transfer to the airport. Knowing we were running short on cash, we got some more St. Lucia currency for the airport departure fee, and put it with the tickets and passports.
When we arrived at the airport, we hopped out of the van, collected the luggage, and got in line to check in at the airport counter. (Note that this entire airport had a “Carnival” feel, with plywood booths, and minimal décor.) After various conflicting reports, we were able to establish that the alcohol we purchased had to be in the checked baggage. I kept the passports to get us checked in for the flight while Darrin went to claim the duty free alcohol we purchased, so we could check it with the rest of our bags.
As I was at the counter, I discovered that I had most of the departure fee, but Darrin had the rest of our cash with him, so I ended up being short on the tax by a couple dollars. The attendant waved it off, since there were others in a long line that he wanted to check in. While another attendant was checking bags, I explained that one couldn’t be checked yet, since my husband was retrieving some duty free items. She printed the tag and stuck it to her hip and told me to find her when the bag was ready. I went off in search of Darrin…
Meanwhile, Darrin (after a false start of trying to enter the doors with the big, scary “DO NOT ENTER” sign) was making his way through the “Exit St. Lucia” security process, without his passport. After making it through the first hurdle (the big guys checking passports), he was admitted to the baggage checking area. Carrying the bag that the bottles were to be packed in, he explained (again) his intent to retrieve duty free goods, and he was directed to the person standing behind him where he proceeded to explain (again) his intent. He was directed to place the bag on the conveyor and proceed through the metal detector area – three feet away. After several attempts to navigate the metal detector, having removed his rings, watch, belt buckle, glasses, wallet and anything else he could think of, he made it through the metal detector successfully, where he collected the bag, and got to explain (again) that he needed to pick up duty free items. In a moment of extreme irony (for some), the security guard said if she’d known his intent, he wouldn’t have gone through the metal detector search. He was then led through a secured door to the disembarking area, on the other side of the wall, (where he’d attempted to go originally). He had to explain (again) that he was picking up duty free purchases. The security guard disappeared through a door, and reappeared a few minutes later without the items from another door asking another guard (in a loud voice) about where the Duty Free goods were kept. Darrin, fearing the worst for our purchases) was not amused. The second official disappeared through the same door as the first, but reappeared a few minutes later from the same door, mercifully with the purchases.
About then, I had just walked straight through the “DO NOT ENTER” door, sending several officials into apoplexy, when I informed them that I was waiting on my husband who was right THERE. At this point it looked like Darrin had it under control. When we caught up with each other, we quickly exited the area to avoid further consternation among the local security guards.
THEN, with purchases in hand, we went around the corner (remember, this was NOT a big airport) to pack the bag, ensuring that all bottles were well wrapped in dirty laundry. A well-meaning passerby pointed out that we’d need to check that bag, since liquids were not allowed to be carried on the plane. We thanked him for his advice, continued to pack the bag as we’d planned, and proceeded to find the attendant who still had the printed baggage tag attached to her hip.
OK. So we were all set to actually leave the country. We headed back into the security area, this time with BOTH passports and a real desire to go home. At least we knew how our airports worked! After passing through security (again for Darrin), we settled in for a short wait to board the plane.
We were waiting for the plane, when Holly Lynne realized she hadn’t purchased a spoon from St. Lucia to add to her collection. Darrin went after something to drink, and in search of a spoon. The search for the drink was immediately successful, but the spoon, not so. I was watching from across the waiting area, and spotted what I thought was a spoon in the window display. Communicating with finger-pointing, Darrin was able to locate the spoon I saw. We needed one for his sister too, so he ended up asking the store attendant where the rest were hidden. Mission accomplished.
We watched as the American Airlines twin prop landed, and incoming passengers disembark. After a short wait, our flight was called. As our rows were called, we had to go through another bag inspection, which was primarily job security for this small island. We then proceeded to the tarmac to stand in a line to board the plane.
After standing in line for quite some time, we were informed that they were having engine difficulties, and were assessing the airplane before boarding passengers. So we all trotted back inside where we sat anxiously for a few minutes, waiting for an update. When the update came, it was to inform us that we would be delayed several hours. A maintenance crew had to be flown in from San Juan. Several updates came in, including putting us up for another night in St. Lucia. We picked up a game of cards with some fellow passengers, and continued to wait. When the flight attendants informed us they were putting us up in hotels for the night, several other passengers declared their frustration with the situation, and told the attendants that they had to work the next day! (Fortunately, this was only Wednesday, and we’d decided to take the rest of the week off!)
Finally, a decision was made to reroute another incoming plane back to San Juan as our flight. We never did see the arrival of the mechanics. So after an eight hour ordeal, with no meals (beyond the convenience store), we were called to board the plane. At this point, we again provided job security for the local economy by allowing the security guards to re-check our carryon bags. Like anything had changed…
On the tarmac, many passengers wondered if we’d actually get off the island this time, and whether this plane would make it to San Juan. Fortunately, boarding and the subsequent flight were uneventful.
Landing in San Juan was another story. Many passengers were understandably ruffled, and passed this frustration onto the airline employees who were working past normal operating hours to ensure that the passengers were taken care of for the evening. American Airlines put us up at the San Juan Airport Best Western and provided vouchers for dinner and breakfast. Due to the hour of our arrival, the hotel was all we saw of San Juan that night.
When we arrived at the airport, we hopped out of the van, collected the luggage, and got in line to check in at the airport counter. (Note that this entire airport had a “Carnival” feel, with plywood booths, and minimal décor.) After various conflicting reports, we were able to establish that the alcohol we purchased had to be in the checked baggage. I kept the passports to get us checked in for the flight while Darrin went to claim the duty free alcohol we purchased, so we could check it with the rest of our bags.
As I was at the counter, I discovered that I had most of the departure fee, but Darrin had the rest of our cash with him, so I ended up being short on the tax by a couple dollars. The attendant waved it off, since there were others in a long line that he wanted to check in. While another attendant was checking bags, I explained that one couldn’t be checked yet, since my husband was retrieving some duty free items. She printed the tag and stuck it to her hip and told me to find her when the bag was ready. I went off in search of Darrin…
Meanwhile, Darrin (after a false start of trying to enter the doors with the big, scary “DO NOT ENTER” sign) was making his way through the “Exit St. Lucia” security process, without his passport. After making it through the first hurdle (the big guys checking passports), he was admitted to the baggage checking area. Carrying the bag that the bottles were to be packed in, he explained (again) his intent to retrieve duty free goods, and he was directed to the person standing behind him where he proceeded to explain (again) his intent. He was directed to place the bag on the conveyor and proceed through the metal detector area – three feet away. After several attempts to navigate the metal detector, having removed his rings, watch, belt buckle, glasses, wallet and anything else he could think of, he made it through the metal detector successfully, where he collected the bag, and got to explain (again) that he needed to pick up duty free items. In a moment of extreme irony (for some), the security guard said if she’d known his intent, he wouldn’t have gone through the metal detector search. He was then led through a secured door to the disembarking area, on the other side of the wall, (where he’d attempted to go originally). He had to explain (again) that he was picking up duty free purchases. The security guard disappeared through a door, and reappeared a few minutes later without the items from another door asking another guard (in a loud voice) about where the Duty Free goods were kept. Darrin, fearing the worst for our purchases) was not amused. The second official disappeared through the same door as the first, but reappeared a few minutes later from the same door, mercifully with the purchases.
About then, I had just walked straight through the “DO NOT ENTER” door, sending several officials into apoplexy, when I informed them that I was waiting on my husband who was right
THEN, with purchases in hand, we went around the corner (remember, this was NOT a big airport) to pack the bag, ensuring that all bottles were well wrapped in dirty laundry. A well-meaning passerby pointed out that we’d need to check that bag, since liquids were not allowed to be carried on the plane. We thanked him for his advice, continued to pack the bag as we’d planned, and proceeded to find the attendant who still had the printed baggage tag attached to her hip.
OK. So we were all set to actually leave the country. We headed back into the security area, this time with BOTH passports and a real desire to go home. At least we knew how our airports worked! After passing through security (again for Darrin), we settled in for a short wait to board the plane.
We were waiting for the plane, when Holly Lynne realized she hadn’t purchased a spoon from St. Lucia to add to her collection. Darrin went after something to drink, and in search of a spoon. The search for the drink was immediately successful, but the spoon, not so. I was watching from across the waiting area, and spotted what I thought was a spoon in the window display. Communicating with finger-pointing, Darrin was able to locate the spoon I saw. We needed one for his sister too, so he ended up asking the store attendant where the rest were hidden. Mission accomplished.
We watched as the American Airlines twin prop landed, and incoming passengers disembark. After a short wait, our flight was called. As our rows were called, we had to go through another bag inspection, which was primarily job security for this small island. We then proceeded to the tarmac to stand in a line to board the plane.
After standing in line for quite some time, we were informed that they were having engine difficulties, and were assessing the airplane before boarding passengers. So we all trotted back inside where we sat anxiously for a few minutes, waiting for an update. When the update came, it was to inform us that we would be delayed several hours. A maintenance crew had to be flown in from San Juan. Several updates came in, including putting us up for another night in St. Lucia. We picked up a game of cards with some fellow passengers, and continued to wait. When the flight attendants informed us they were putting us up in hotels for the night, several other passengers declared their frustration with the situation, and told the attendants that they had to work the next day! (Fortunately, this was only Wednesday, and we’d decided to take the rest of the week off!)
Finally, a decision was made to reroute another incoming plane back to San Juan as our flight. We never did see the arrival of the mechanics. So after an eight hour ordeal, with no meals (beyond the convenience store), we were called to board the plane. At this point, we again provided job security for the local economy by allowing the security guards to re-check our carryon bags. Like anything had changed…
On the tarmac, many passengers wondered if we’d actually get off the island this time, and whether this plane would make it to San Juan. Fortunately, boarding and the subsequent flight were uneventful.
Landing in San Juan was another story. Many passengers were understandably ruffled, and passed this frustration onto the airline employees who were working past normal operating hours to ensure that the passengers were taken care of for the evening. American Airlines put us up at the San Juan Airport Best Western and provided vouchers for dinner and breakfast. Due to the hour of our arrival, the hotel was all we saw of San Juan that night.
posted by Holly Lynne at 11:24 AM
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