We woke up to another sunny day in Rio and tried our luck at the chaotic breakfast buffet once more. The crowds were larger and the food was worse. It always seems to happen this way at the tail end of a trip. In all seriousness, even the most basic item like a croissant or a piece of bread seem to taste completely different than expected. Thin waffles were cold and rubbery. In the words of Paul Hollywood on The Great British Bakeoff, the flavors were all wrong. The textures were all over the place. Very stodgy. We were ready to go.
An Uber picked us up and took about 25-30 minutes to get to the airport. We were slowed down by some sort of motorcycle police escort of a military truck. They would drive very erratically back and forth in their attempts to control the traffic. Every so often, more motorcycles would merge in with them and ride around in what can only be described as a disorganized mess. I think, in their minds, they looked like they were in some kind of cliché action movie, but didn’t always appear to know what they were doing, so it just looked like a couple of boys out for a Thursday morning ride whilst annoyingly slowing down all the traffic behind them.
We entered a rather empty international check-in area. It helps that almost everything else departing from there is a redeye. We picked up our tickets in a matter of minutes and were through passport control and security a few minutes after that. A few shops were open, but we didn’t find much to fulfill our tchotchke needs, not aided by the fact that the workers kept following us around and making me anxious. We did eventually get a pair of Havaiianas, Brazilian rubber slippers comparable to Hawaiian Locals.
The terminal was very empty as well, reminiscent of London’s Gatwick airport in the fall 2020, but probably nothing like Gatwick airport in August 2022 from what I hear. Our Copa Airlines flight began boarding and we were in one of the later groups. I had thought the flight had a lot of open seats, but it ended up being close to completely full. Our seats were a bit cramped for a seven and a half hour flight. There should be rules against flying a 737 on international flights of more than six hours. It seems criminal. It’s like taking a CRJ on a transcon flight.
We were served a pasta with pesto, but the flavors were all wrong again. It was a rather unsatisfying in-flight meal. Six hours of our flight remained with most of that being spent crossing the country of Brazil. My circulation was struggling. Nicole’s seatmate was a leaner and an armrest invader. Not only that, he was a nose picker and very jumpy flier. I promised to take the middle seat on the connecting flight. With our cramped condition, there was no way we’d be able to switch mid flight.
We arrived firmly in Panama City’s Tocumen International and had about 90 minutes before our next flight. The airport was packed. Probably 40 flights to destinations in the region and throughout North America all depart within the same 45 minute block, so it was hard to find a calm area of the brand new Terminal 2. For unknown reasons, the flight to LAX had a secondary screening checkpoint which took up a bit of time as well. Our second flight was on a newer 737 max, which seemed to have slightly more legroom and didn’t yet look like it was beat to hell. My seatmate was a nun in a tracksuit.
It was another flight with mediocre food. We were also dehydrated. We weren’t allowed to bring any beverages onboard (not sure why), so we had to depend on the infrequent drink service. I got a few winks here and there, but nothing substantial.
Storms greeted us about an hour outside of Los Angeles, but our process once on the ground was smooth sailing. We were scheduled to land at 1140pm local time and were inside our apartment by midnight. Global Entry sure is a fantastic thing. It was a long day of flying, but hopefully that will get us right back on track with pacific time. Reflections post to follow shortly.
passports & pepto bismol 