July| Vol. 22 No. 8.02 | Christian's Chronicles © 2015 – All rights reserved.
I am in Hong Kong, taking advantage of the free WiFi at the airport as I write this. My return trip from Phuket has begun, and it is not without complications. What proved to be an unusually burdensome process considering that I was simply leaving Thailand but nonetheless having to wait through not one, not two, but three separate lines for departure cards, passport control, and whatever else it was that the government of Thailand required of me before shuffling me on my way along with the platoons of Russians heading back to the motherland, my fellow travelers and I bound for Singapore finally made it to our plane, courtesy of the shuttle-bus that dropped us off on the tarmac. Having endured the oppressive heat in the hour-long lines dominated by the instantly recognizable rich aroma of Eastern European perspiration, to which I may or may not have contributed, I finally settled into my window seat, and made the first leg of the journey without much incident. I deplaned, to use the preferred industry term no normal human would ever utter, and found eager fans of the Chronicle holding up a sign with my slightly butchered name.
To my surprise, what I took to be adoring fans and a testament to the global reach of The Chronicles, turned out to be staff whose sole concern with me was to offer a curious choice: make it to my connecting flight without my bags, or wait until my bags can also de-plane and re-plane onto the next flight… tomorrow.
I felt a bit like Leo the homeless coder must have felt contemplating the choice between immediate gratification and long-term investment. However, unlike Leo, my choice was obvious. I opted to get back home ASAP, without my luggage. I boarded the plane to Singapore, and in short time I proceeded to resume sharpening my once glorious Tetris skills on the built in screen & game system, then watched an episode of “Band of Brothers,” and a movie I very much enjoyed called “The World’s End,” I believe.
So it is that I am now typing these very lines in Hong Kong, waiting to board the flight that will be the last leg of my journey, though somewhat incomplete without my dirty clothes and other belongings stuffed into a large black bag bearing the parts of my name that did not exceed the computer terminal’s character limits.
Phuket, good bye. Hello San Francisco… in about 12 – 13 hours or so.