After twelve hours traveling, I finally made it into Trinidad, and I’m exhausted. So far, there isn’t too much to mention about my trip. From Indianapolis I flew to Miami with a plan full of senior citizens. I chatted with a few of them, and they were all part of this senior’s cruse in the Caribbean. One thing to note about the group was one couple with a surnamed Thorn sat on either side of a woman named Rose. You can imagine the senior humor that resulted. To top it off, several of them were discussing the many names they have had over the years. (How many times were some of these women married? How many times can a woman become a widow?)
Flying into Miami was pretty much as to be expected: the opening sequence to CSI:Miami. The Miami airport has an O’Hare-like star shape to it, with the annoying exception that you enter in the center, and to move between any two gates, you must pass through security again. The end of my gate (the rest of which is long and thin) erupted into a large, open hub. The individual gates were dense and the employees were scarce. After making a big deal about the boarding time when I got my ticket, the plane started boarding over 25 minutes late. During the flight, there was little to no turbulence, sweet and spicy chicken dinner, and a movie. The man I sat next to was en route back home to Guyana after visiting Miami with his unsuccessful attempt to have doctors diagnose his trick knee. All in all, the flights were good.
During the flight, however, a bottle broke in someone else’s bad, spilling god knows what all over my suitcase. It smells like a cross between some alcohol and suntan lotion. Annoying, but it’s not going to kill me.
My hotel in Trinidad on the other hand, that might kill me. I snapped a few pictures of the room which will serve its purpose of providing me a place to stay overnight for my flight to Tobago tomorrow, but not much beyond that. When I booked my tickets originally, I wanted to make sure I got to see both Trinidad and Tobago, so I opted for a late flight the next day. I figured I could spend the morning doing some touristy things; shopping, eating vendor roti, etc. but I hadn’t realized that my hotel is against the airport, near the military air base, and appears to be quite a distance from anything reasonable. I’m over 20km / US$20 / 30-60 minutes from anything reasonable in Port of Spain. I really wanted to walk around Port of Spain before my flight, but I would have had to have checked out of my hotel, and stowed my bags somewhere. When I mentioned these were my thoughts when checking into the hotel I got a “We don’t do that here,” from the guy behind the desk. This hotel is set up exclusively for people to sleep prior to flights; early flights, since the constant sounds of the airport make long, deep sleep impossible.
Alicia’s simply going to say I screwed this one up, and should have read my tour book more before going. That’s probably a fair assessment. The better thing to do would have been to fly to Tobago early, and arranged things with the Hilton. They’re more set up for that. Here’s to me being an idiot.