En Route to Caracas

Waiting for a plane to leave is sometimes like not waiting at all. You get on the plane, and the slow process of the plane filling up is always the same. You wait to see ifteh seat next to you will be taken, and it inevitable is. You then wait for the “cross check and verify” command from the front of the plane, which means that you will be forced to turn off your cell phone. Then you wait for the “howdy” from the pilot, and you push back and get ready to live through the boredom of the next five hours.

This flight, from Houston to Caracas, was really no difference. It is, of course, imbued with a slight different frisson for me – this is the first time I have been to Venezuela in about 11 years (I need to check that to make sure), and much has happened in that time. But the waiting for the travel to commence was the same, maybe worse.

There have been afternoon thunderstorms in Houston for the entire month of July. Over a two day period a week of so ago, we got about five inches. Since then, it is a rare afternoon that goes by with no rain.

So once we loaded the plane and the rain started to fall, I cannot say that anyone was surprised. Then they stopped the loading of the luggage. Then the rain stopped, and we finally got to push back, about 45 minutes late.

But, as in any large airport, there are plenty fo other planes waiting to go as well. So we waited another hour or so. We are two hours late leaving, which means we will get to the Caracas airport about 11:30, up to the city about 12:30. That is not something that I am looking forward to.

I have also not made my own reservations, so I am at the mercy of my hosts. I have had bad experiences with this in the past, and, quiet frankly, I am expecting the worst. But before I finish this piece, the truth will be out.

I lived in Venezuela in 1993 and 1994. I was working for a software company that was international in breadth, but sometimes provincial in approach. I loved the work, I loved the countries where I spent time. I don’t want to make it more that it was, but I was an expatriate for those two years (and two years more in Asia) and I loved it.

Now, I hate to travel. I have mentioned that before, and I don’t need to belabor it here. It will be an interesting couple of days. I just hope that I will be able to drink some Polar Beer, eat some meat or maybe some cachapas, and try to get some business started.