The Trip Over

Monday   February  23, 2009

2:05 pm (est.) - I’m taking off from Charlotte North Carolina, aboard a small regional US Air jet.  I have a little bit of a buzz from the beers (5) I drank with Doc.  I almost didn’t make it… US Air wanted $65 to fly my sea bag.  I had to call back to the San Diego office to have them pay for the bags.  I borrowed $100 from Doc to pay for the visa fee and cab ride in Qatar.  I have about $35 of my own for food and such.  I hate being so broke. 

10:00 pm – I am about to board the Qatar Airlines plane.  That sucker is huge.

Tuesday   February  24, 2009

12:30 am (est.) – They are serving dinner aboard the plane; no meat so it’s veggies and rice or shrimp and rice.  I took the shrimp.  This plane is very nice.  The Philipino stewardess’ are very pretty. And the service is great. 11 more hours (12hrs 40 mins total) to go.

06:30 pm (local Qatar) – We flew through sun-up and sundown.  Everything is clean and well organized but dusty.  A guy in a robe and rag hat directed us to immigration.  I had to pay $34 visa fee.  The woman seemed perturbed that I didn’t have a credit card to pay with.  (I did but the card was maxed out)  She sent me to a window to pay cash.  The teller took $40 US dollars from me and gave me back 2 tens of what ever they call their money.

07:00 pm - I’m through customs and immigration and worn out.  That damn sea bag and duffle bag kicked my ass.   Outside, a driver comes up to me and says “Army Camp?”  (That’s what they call the air force base here)  I say yes thinking he’s a cab driver.  As the guy starts to grab my bag, a British guy turns to me and says, “Better take the shuttle cab.  That guy there will charge you $100 for a limousine.”  I pull the bag back and say “Where?”  He points to a line of Dodge Caravans about 20 yards away.  “Thanks” I say and think “Shit.”  I can see the headline now, “American dies of heart attack in Qatar Airport.”  Thinking back, that was nothing.  I was about to get a real ass kicker walking through security at the airbase.

30 minutes later the cabbie dropped me off at the gate to the airbase.  I tip him the Qatar money they gave me at the airport and his eyes fly wide open.   “Thank you very much!”  he says.  I just figured it was useless to me so I may as well dump it on him.  I still have no idea how much it was.  If the immigration visa was $34, it can’t be too much. 

I carry my stuff to the gate where two Qatar military guys are standing.  They check my ID and point to an American check point about 20 yards away.  “Fuck” When I get there a cute female airman (who couldn’t be more than 20) is holding an M-16 and shifting slowly back and forth.  I swear she’s looking at me with a serious frown.  I try not to huff and puff from carrying my bags.  I may be old but I still have some fantasies about cute young 20 something females. She checks my papers and ID and points to a checkpoint 300 yards away.  Stalling, I ask, “Where can I get a shuttle to the PAX terminal?”   They’ll call one for you when you get there” she says.  I carry my bags a few feet before I realize I need to rearrange them.  I put on the back pack, sling the sea bag across my shoulders and start humping toward the checkpoint.

Ten minutes later, I’m approaching the checkpoint.  I’m tired but I don’t feel too bad.  I drop my bags and ask the air force guards about a shuttle.  They say they’ll call one and direct me to the waiting lounge in the nearby building.  I ask “I’m sweating my ass off.  Do you mind if I stay out here and cool off.”  It was about 68 degrees with a slight breeze.  “Sure” he says, “but you’ll have to go inside once we begin searching these vehicles.”  “Thanks” I say.  After about ten minutes I’m a little cooler so I go inside the lounge.  It’s stuffy and warm inside and I don’t last long before I go outside again.

After about ten minutes, a shuttle van comes to pick me and another civilian up.  Ten minutes later we are at the PAX terminal.  I check in and get on the list for a 2 am flight to Bagram.  I ask about chow and the air force guy tells me to go across the street to the “Grab and Go.”  The place is about the size of a small construction trailer.  The front section has a counter with pre-made sandwiches, chips and drinks.  I ask for a turkey sandwich, chips and water.

2 am and I’m on a C-130 headed for Bagram.  We are packed in sitting on net chairs knee to knee.  It’s uncomfortable as hell and I can barely walk 4 hours later when we land.  Alfonso, Pat and Jason come and pick me up at the PAX terminal.  It takes about an hour to locate my gear but I’m still missing the chemical gear they issued me at El Udide air base.  It showed up a few days later.