North America 2022 : August 30 Day 1 A Long, Long Haul to Chicago

Robyn kept on working up to the last day – COVID and some recent resignations had reduced her area’s solicitor staffing levels from 12 to 5. With Robyn on leave (which had been approved about a year ago) that number was dropping to 4. She felt she had to get through as much work as she could before she left. Therefore she was mostly packed by Sunday, two days before departure – though I do emphasise “mostly”. Typically I was leaving my packing till the last day. The suitcase was open on the bedroom floor and the bulk of what I was taking was already thrown into it. What more did I need?

Well, lots of things really: I had my US sim card for my mobile phone figured out, Robyn would get hers sorted out when we were actually in Chicago; entry visas for both the USA and for Canada sorted; International Vaccination Certificates were downloaded; walking-around cash in both US and Canadian dollars obtained; bills were paid and we were ready to go.

Last thing we needed to do was to cover the suitcases in the weird covers that Robyn had picked up somewhere. These were supposed to make them easier to see on the airport luggage carousel. An assumption that later proved perfectly correct.

We left home at 4:15pm Tuesday 30^th August, for a flight leaving at 9:10pm. There had been a lot of news reports over the previous few months about missing luggage and long queues at check-in counters so we had decided to beat the rush by getting in very early. The aim was to give the airline enough time to get the luggage on board safely and for us to not spend ages in a slow-moving queue. Will had agreed to drive us to the airport and we got there 45 minutes later, a bit over 4 hours before the flight. We even got to the check-in desk before it had opened and were about the 4^th group of passengers through. That was about the simplest check-in we’d encountered for some time.

Down to passport control and then into the Qantas Club. We stayed there until departure. A sparkling wine to start and then a few reds for me over a light meal which, we hoped, would help us sleep later that night on the plane.

The Qantas flight for the first leg to LA was on a Boeing Dreamliner 787-9, set up in a 3-3-3 seat configuration. I thought I’d booked the middle set of seats but we found ourselves up against the window. Luckily it was just the two of us in the three seats so we had room to spread out – a major advantage on a long-haul flight.

The obligatory plane selfie and then 13.5 hours to LA. Probably about as good a flight as you could get. The couple of infants a few rows in front of us seemed to sleep most of the way. There was a bit of crying – well, who doesn’t do that on a long-haul flight – but not a lot. There was some mild turbulence a couple of times; not enough to worry about, though I’m sure Robyn would have a very different opinion. I got a few hours’ sleep. Rob seemed to get a few hours more, except she didn’t seem so convinced of that when we were presented with breakfast as we neared the end of that flight.

Breakfast? Our body clocks were in synch with that, even though LA time was late afternoon. Crossing the International Date Line always does weird things to your time perception. We landed in LA at a time that indicated it was before we’d even left.

Through passport control in the US. This was the second point of concern for me on this trip – the first being actually getting to the Melbourne airport on time. US Border Control can turn you around for any reason and there had been recent reports in the Australian media about some people not being able to prove that they were returning to their home country, or travelling on to another, and being flipped and turned around. Even though we had forgotten to have proof of our flights from Chicago to Toronto with us, the passport officer was happy enough when saw the return flight from Vancouver. Crisis averted.

Our bags had been checked through to Chicago though they had to be picked up and re-checked for the flight with United Airlines to Chicago. “See,” said Robyn. “Those suitcase covers were useful.” First rule of a marriage: the wife is always right, especially when she actually is.

We decided to skip the shuttle bus between terminals and took the 15-20 minute walk to terminal 7 instead, wanting to stretch our legs a bit. There were tighter security checks for the domestic flight to Chicago, with belts and shoes off.

A beer, a coffee and a small snack (including our re-introduction to the mysterious and arcane art of tipping in the US) and then a long wait for the next flight. Which was packed. We found ourselves in the very last row, jammed up against the galley wall. We dozed off for a while and had a smooth flight. The young guy up against the window slept the whole way. Bastard!

Usually when we finish such a long set of flights we like to arrange for a dedicated pick-up at the airport. Attempting to negotiate any form of public transport with your brains slowly oozing out of your ears is never a lot of fun, and is bound to result in something going wrong or something being forgotten. Far better to arrange a ride and look on it as part of the initial travel cost. In this case, however, Robyn decided the cost was too much to justify, plus we needed to ring the driver to tell them where we were. How much was an Uber ride? A significant amount less as it turned out, for the same service.

We’d already informed the Hyatt Regency hotel in Chicago that we would be getting in at 6am so they would keep our room – which we did, and which they did.

August 30^th seemed like a day that would never end for us. Twenty-nine hours after leaving Hawthorn we got to our room. A brief unpack and then sleep. And we had no trouble with that.