Le retour

US Airways me fait chier. Littéralement. Si je pensais avoir des noeuds dans l'estomac la veille de notre départ, ce n'était rien par rapport à ceux que j'ai eu pendant les trois heures passées dans l'aéroport de Madrid, puis dans l'avion par la suite. Voici ce qui est arrivé:

We left the hotel around 8:30, wondering why they always said to arrive to the airport three hours early since there was always a lot of waiting involved once you got to the airport. Still, like the good travelers we've become, we were there on time, and managed to avoid any delays that Fortune might have wanted to throw at us, as she has done many times before when we were trying to leave a country.
So we got to the airport safely, with three hours to go before our flight. We found the check-in counters, where there was already a huge line-up, but since we were early, we weren't worried. We just waited happily, wondered if we should accept the 400Euros each that were offered to us if we accepted to take a later flight (they'd overbooked the plane by 16 seats!) but decided against it, since we didn't know what would happen to our connection flight to Ottawa. Once we got to the front of the line, we had to answer some questions before being able to check in. And since we're not a family and don't have the same last name, we couldn't answer together, which took even longer.
What kind of questions? Really stupid ones, like: "So, you've been traveling six months? How did you pay for that? Did you pay with cash or a card? Can I see that card? You only had that one bag for six months? Oh, you sent packages? Do you have receipts? No? When did you last send one? From India? Three months ago? And you don't have a receipt? Oh no, just asking..."

Il semblait qu'on n'arriverait jamais à l'enregistrement. L'homme qui nous posait les questions allait toujours voir sa supérieure, pour lui montrer notre passeport, lui donner nos réponses, puis revenait avec d'autres questions. Est-ce parce que Nico a une barbe? Ou parce que j'avais un bandana sur la tête? Ou parce qu'on était deux jeunes qui voyageaient depuis six mois et que, sans être des contrebandiers de drogues, il n'y avait pas moyen qu'on puisse se le permettre? Je ne sais pas. Toujours est-il que l'homme a mis un petit collant sur notre passeport et nous a dit qu'on pouvait (enfin!) passer à l'étape suivante. Mais là, encore des problèmes! Bien que tous nos billets aient été achetés il y a six mois, et qu'ils étaient tous des billets électroniques, et qu'ils avaient tous fonctionné, tout à coup, celui-ci n'apparaissait pas comme un billet électronique. La pauvre fille au comptoir faisait tout ce qu'elle pouvait pour nous aider, elle nous a envoyés au comptoir de billets pour que ce soit arrangé, rendus là, on nous a dit que ce l'était, mais de retour au comptoir d'enregistrement (sans passer par la ligne, cette fois), ça n'y était toujours pas. Enfin, une autre employée a réussi à imprimer nos billets.
Je commençais à penser que le Destin ne voulait pas qu'on parte.

So we got through customs and security without a hitch, and found our gate, where, again, there was a long line-up. Not to embark on the plane, no, just to have the right to sit on the seats in the waiting area for US Airways. Nice. So we wait, again. And, as luck would have it, the woman who checks our passport and tickets says: "You're coming from another flight, right?" No... "Today is August 7th." Yes... just as it says on our little sticker the man put on our passports... What's the problem? "I'm sorry, you'll have to come with me, it's just a routine check, nothing to worry about, you have to go through security again." What? And you can tell this by looking at our passports? What have we done? What do we look like? You just like to pick on us, don't you. And of course "I'm sorry, I can't say anything, it's a security matter." Of course.
So we go through security, she points out our bags to the controller, who says everything looks fine, except that I have a water bottle in my bag. Well, yeah, I was thirsty, I bought one since you took my other bottle away the first time I went through security. "She's probably telling the truth, since it would've been removed when she passed through the first time." Yeah! Like anything else you could be looking for. Arg!

Alors on repasse à travers la sécurité, la petite madame nous demande pardon, bla bla bla, et puis on peut enfin embarquer. Mais pas avant qu'on vérifie une dernière fois qu'on a bien notre passeport, et ce, à la porte de l'avion! Quels idiots.
Dans l'avion, la frustration n'est pas finie. Il faut payer 5$ US pour les écouteurs, il ne reste plus du plat que je commande sur le chariot et je dois attendre, et puis, quand vient le temps de remplir nos formulaires d'immigration (bien qu'on ne fasse que passer par les É-U), l'hôtesse de l'air ne sait même pas que les Canadiens n'ont pas besoin de remplir le formulaire des étrangers. Même si ça vient d'être annoncé.

So, we get to Philadelphia without any more troubles (well, except for waiting for 15 minutes in the air because there's too much traffic) and get to customs, where the officer is very nice with me, asks a few questions (you've been traveling for six months? What do you do for a living? What is there to see in Laos?) and writes a big BGC in red on my form. Which means that when we try to go through the Nothing to declare gate, we're redirected to get asked more questions by another officer. Oof. I put on a nice charming smile, and he doesn't even check my luggage.
After that, I can't help but wonder what else is going to happen. But this time, it's a good thing. We go to the counter to re-check our luggage (since the US apparently don't trust other countries to be paranoid enough) and the guy who takes our luggage says: "What, leaving so soon? You don't want to stay in the US, you're running away?" When we don't say anything, he adds "Good for you, get out of here as fast as you can!" And we do, with a huge smile on our faces. Ah, thank you for that smile!

Le reste de l'aventure n'est pas aussi frustrante, et comme j'ai déjà assez écrit, je vais arrêter ici. Mais, en résumé, nous sommes arrivés à Ottawa à l'heure, sans problèmes, et avec tous nos bagages, et avons été accueillis avec des cris et des applaudissements, ainsi qu'une belle affiche faite par ma petite soeur préférée! Merci à tous.

Once the trip has settled in a bit, I'll write a last entry as a conclusion, so keep on checking my blog once in a while, if you want to know what I thought of these past six months.