Arrivals

Arrivals

Having finished entering all the assessment data at work ready for reports, I was ready for a break and the next three weeks were eagerly anticipated.

The 19 year old son was due to arrive on the 15th December (or so I thought) so I duly hire a rental car in preparation of picking him up.  The teenager was out for the night so was meeting me at the airport for a 5.30am arrival.  So at 4am I’m up when I get a call from the teenager to see where I am as he’s there already.  Now that’s a first!  So I rush into the shower, throw on some clothes and head downstairs to my car park.  Off I go, so clever in my driving skills and knowledge of the roads.

I’m heading out and see the signs to the Presidential Flight but no airport signs (disregarding the plane symbol next to the Presidential Flight) so continue driving.  The airport is a fair way out so I carry on, and on, and on.  Until I reach Shahama!  Now, having been to Dubai once, I know that we went through Shahama.  Oops!  I should have used my friends GPS that she left in her car.  But it’s 4.30am and me and trucks galore are on the road.  So I phone the teenager and wail, “I’m lost!”

I won’t repeat the conversation but needless to say it wasn’t complimentary, especially at that time of the morning with a non-morning teenager who’d probably had no sleep.

The trouble with the roads here is if you miss a turn you literally drive ½ way to Dubai.  But I was already there so had visions of being in Dubai before finding an exit.  Should have booked that Emirates flight to Dubai after all.

So I pull over to the side of the road to think.  I consider flagging down a passing taxi (too slow) or banging on the window of a nearby parked truck to awake the sleeping driver (not a good idea in the middle of nowhere at 4.30am).  Unsure of my next move I drive slowly on and take an exit into Shahama then quickly u-turn as I realise it’s going to take me miles away.  I continue on the highway and spy an overhead so without any idea of where I’m going I take the exit and drive over the road and turn back to whence I had come.  I figured if I was heading back the other way I’d be okay.  And I was.  After a bit of driving I see signs (Yes, actual signs) saying Abu Dhabi International Airport.  What a relief.  Did I mention they also said Presidential Flight?  Oh well, live and learn.  I arrive at the airport and park at Terminal 3, thinking I’m very clever as I’ve parked there before when flying out in July.  I walk up to the terminal and phone the teenager who informs me I need to be at Terminal 1 and to move the car!  Mmmmm!  Not really my morning is it?  So I pay to exit the carpark and drive down to the outside parking by Terminal 1, duly getting another ticket for parking.

All up I’m inside the terminal at arrivals with the teenager by 5.30am so I think I did pretty well, all things considered.  We grab a coffee at the handy Starbucks and are literally first to the barrier to wait.  The flight had arrived early so I don’t expect to wait too long.  Finally a few stragglers arrive with bags.  It was so easy to spot the travelers from Australia as they arrived in shorts and jandals whereas the next flight from Europe were dressed in jeans, boots, thick jackets and beanies.  So we waited, and waited, and waited.  By 7am the teenager is chomping at the bit to get home.  We try Mr 19's phone but of course that is switched off like a good traveler.

Eventually the teenager goes over to the inquiry desk and comes back to tell me that I’ve got the wrong day.  Eeekkkk!  Don’t even start!!!!

MR 19 was flying on the 15th but wouldn’t arrive here until the following day.  Which makes perfect sense but why they don’t put that date on the itinerary I don’t know.  So after checking that he is actually on the plane, which had just left Christchurch, we head home.  The teenager heads to bed, muttering something under his breath, I’m sure.  I get the GPS out of my friends car, ready for tomorrow.

Next morning we repeat the process, leaving later from home and taking Airport Road, under the teenager’s directions.  He knows the area well as his school is right by the airport.  So we arrive without any mishaps and I get a park at Terminal 1, close to the entrance.  I’m a pro now, right?  The flight arrives and Mr 19 appears, smiling and I even get a wave in response to mine, carrying his one carry on bag.  I’ve taught them well.

We head home via the scenic route through town and the beach to show Mr 19 the sights.  He is overawed by the tall buildings and the size of the cranes.  Remembering Mr 19 works in Christchurch driving trucks as part of the rebuilding of the city after the earthquake so is familiar with heavy machinery.  But he’s never seen anything like this.  Of course we’re old hands now and used to the sight of 60 story high cranes.

Home to a cooked breakfast, a coffee and a well earned catchup then a snooze for us all.

Moral of the story - Take your friends up on their offers of GPS, check flight dates more than once, always have plenty of petrol in your car and plenty of credit on your phone!