Timesheets: Travel

In two years I've come to learn the United terminals in a handful of airports like the back of my hand. Curious as to how much time that took, I knocked a spreadsheet together and found myself bewildered. I've missed a few weeks here and there in my timesheet, but I'd say about 90% of the data is there.

Project Location	Recorded Weeks with Travel	Total Travel Hours	Hours/Week Recorded
Los Angeles, CA	40	462.00	11.55
Little Rock, AR	19	127.75	6.72
San Francisco, CA	33	128.75	3.90
Total	92	718.50	7.81

The overall average of 7.81 is, of course, awfully close to an extra full working day per week.

Project 2

Way back in September, I took a 1x2 plane that touched down in Little Rock. The flight itself was delightfully uneventful — those tiny planes get to skip the \heartfelt\ update from Jeff Smisek "and [his] 80,000 coworkers".

After landing, all 30 of us aboard the plane shuffled out of most-delightfully-sized airport I've seen, but not before I checked in to gate 11, of course — this airport isn't going to mayor itself!

I've come to expect personality, conversation, and, well, danger out of late-night airport cab runs. Little Rock's James, just entering his 53rd year, gleefully delivered on 2 of 3, albeit silently for far too long as I dug deeper and deeper into the details of my destination.

James	Where to?
Me	The DoubleTree
	*awkward pausation*
Me	...in Little Rock
	*no response or movement*
Me	...downtown
	*continued awkward pausation*
Me	...on Markham Street
James	MmmHmmm. I should hope so. Only one we got.

I could tell early this place was going to be memorable.

NOTE While sarcasm has recently gotten a font, it isn't available everywhere, hence \heartfelt\

TIP Interested in my battle for the mayorship of the Little Rock Airport Burger King? Follow me on Foursquare

Recycled Air: Episode 2 [The Sprint]

Friend of the blog and half-marathon-runner Molly asked me several weeks ago if I have had the pleasure of running through an airport yet. I'm a veteran at sprinting through Chicago to Union Station to catch (or miss) a train. Airports are a different story though, with an average arrival time of 1.5 hours early...until Friday.

My plans were to take the redeye again on Thursday night. When I arrived with plenty of time to spare, an announcement was made.

"We're looking for volunteers to give up their seats and fly out to Chicago tomorrow morning."

Naturally I jumped at the opportunity and soon thereafter found myself on a shuttle to another night in a hotel. My reservation was now for business class Friday morning at 6:50.

Not long ago I happily marched through the Premier security line for the first time at O'Hare. With a separate screening lane and an exceptionally joyful TSA employee, I made it through in just six minutes; nearly 20 minutes shorter than my typical experience with regular security lines. This flying 4,000 miles a week thing certainly has it's advantages.

Sadly, the airport in Los Angeles is not nearly as accommodating with premier security lines. It's the same line here, but you can effectively cut at the time you show your boarding pass. Arriving at 6:10, I thought I would be OK.

6:38 rolled around and with it came an announcement.

"Attention passenger Hill. This is your final boarding call for United flight 944, non-stop service to Chicago."

Panic came over me instantly I was still in the security line, only now preparing to put my shoes on the conveyor. As luck would have it, I was also randomly selected for my first body scan.

6:41 marked the point where I retied my oxford shoes. Shortly thereafter I regretted a decision I'd made earlier this morning.


Running shoes are considerably easier, and quieter, to run through an airport in than the above style.

At exactly 6:45 I arrived completely out-of-breath to an empty terminal 74. One attendant was at the podium near the gate, looking ready to move on to something else. I waved my ticket and inquired about the possibility of boarding. He made a phone call and soon I was running again...this time through the gate.

Made it.

Fun Fact after 10 weeks and 30,000 miles in the air I have now sprinted through an airport.

Recycled Air: Episode 1

"I'll just set my things down here...I've got to go powder my nose"

In just over 20,000 miles in the air I've discovered an amazing variety in neighbor passengers. More often than not I'm seated next to a silent traveler, completely interested and involved in his or her own things. Occasionally I'll get someone just the right amount of talkative to make the flight feel considerably shorter. Other times I'm in for an impromptu autobiography.

Sunday was my first flight to or from Los Angeles with any conversation at all. It would have been fine, except for a few basic crossings of the etiquette line and diving into a level far too deep for having just met someone.

I simply don't have the dexterity to recap four hours of conversation with someone in text, so instead we'll hit the highlights and lowlights of passenger Sam's monologue.

• I understand it as universal etiquette to not disturb someone with earbuds in unless sharing some life-altering news. This is most certainly not universal.
  
  
• "You computer people have some real goofy terms. GUI (pronounced 'gooey')? You kidding me with that? You'd never hear 'GUI' from a physicist. You know where you would hear that? From a five year old eating lunch."
  
  
• "My wife and I used to go riding all the time on my Harley, now all of a sudden she's all hung up and don't want to go with me if I've been drinking. Can you believe that? I'll tell you what else, that's why she says she's leaving me, of course the papers haven't been filed yet...and she's been leaving me since June of last year. 15 years down the drain. I'll tell you what I'll miss the most though, the free concert tickets she got from work."
  
  
• [said to flight attendant]: "Yeah, give me two cold ones"
  [said to me]: "You may not believe this, but there was a time where I didn't know who was in charge...me or the bottle. So I'll tell you what I did, I picked a month to see if I could go through it without drinking. I thought to myself I'll take February because you know thats a nice, short one. Felt like cheating though, so I went with July...my birthday is in July, and there are barbeques all over town. Made it too.
  (cracks open can)
  Hey, bottoms up!"
  
  
• "Haven't been working in two years. Finally got this job as a building inspector. I'm also becoming a physicist, because I have to in my old age."
  
  
• "One day I'll get on a new plane. I'll know it's new too, because I won't see an ashtray in the bathroom. Can you believe they used to have a smoking and non-smoking section on these things? It's a frickin' tube for crying out loud!"
  
  
• "About 25 years ago I took my son to Disney World. He was four then...so it couldn't have been 25 years ago, it must have been 23. Yeah, 23 years ago. Anyway he starts crying in the middle of Epcot because Mickey Mouse didn't wave at him...and you know what a kid of four sounds like crying? It's loud, it's like (proceeds to demonstrate lung capacity on crowded airplane). So I told him not to worry, Mickey Mouse waves at everyone, and sure enough he later waved at my son."
  
  
• Sam "So what part of LA do you live in?"
  Me "I live in Chicago."
  Sam "Oh no kidding! What part? Naperville or Schaumburg?" (suburbs, outside city limits)
  Me "No, right in the city."
  Sam "Oh wow, I thought you said you lived right in Chicago, you know, like Naperville or Schaumburg"
  Me "Those are both different cities..."

Roundabouts

Leaving the Airport

There must be at least 100 people waiting to take travelers any place they need to go immediately outside of the airport. Taxis are offered aggressively. 1/3 of the drivers have already been hired and hold a piece of paper with the name of a company or your name.

Three drivers held ThoughtWorks signs. The three of us from the Frankfurt flight collected in front of them and were a bit puzzled why we didn't leave instantly. We were eventually guided to the waiting area and remained confused for about 45 minutes -- until seven more students showed up. The flight from Beijing was delayed and suddenly we were very glad we didn't leave instantly. While you seem to be able to get just about everywhere with English, the language barrier showed itself immediately.

All ten students were then off to the parking lot. We were greeted with three very small cars. Four of us popped our luggage in the first one, a Toyota Innova, and jumped in the car. We attempted to anyway. In my specially-blended state of exhaustion and ignorance, I tried to get into the American front passenger seat. Bonus - I've now seen my first minivan (microvan?) with a stick.

The Drive

I had heard the drive to the office from the airport was an hour. I had also heard it was 30 minutes. The time difference was pretty obvious as soon as we took off -- clearly we had a 30-minute driver.

One of the most shocking things is how similar driving in Bangalore really is to driving in the US.

• Street signs are still white and green
• Lane markings are still white and yellow
• Traffic lights are still green-yellow-red in a yellow case

Our car had a McDonald's VIP sticker on the front dash and some of the most recognizable companies from the states made up the billboards: IBM, Oracle, Yahoo. It's obvious this is a tech hub of the world -- Linux versions are with billboards here. Word on the street is this isn't even the case in Silicon Valley.

The similarities seem to end there. The culture of driving here is much more aggressive. Horns indicate you're headed through an intersection. Lights are present, but routinely ignored. Honking and flashing the lights seems to mean you're going to attempt to pass. I thought I'd experienced tailgating in the states, but I'd never experienced anything like this. The car fell silent as we sat in amazement at the lines taken through the roundabouts. The feeling was more of a Formula 1 race than a commute.

Arrival

So after 30 minutes of mind-racing, heart-pounding, white-knuckled driving we ended up in the Diamond District. We waited a bit for our keys and then headed off to find our apartments in the 927-unit compound. By 4:00 am, all ten of us were situated in our rooms.

So what are the rooms like? More on that later...

23 Hours

For six weeks, I'll be on the other side of the world for a training course in booming Bangalore, India. Upcoming on this blog is the chronicle of those adventures. This is part 1 of a multipart series.

The trip itself was a rather uneventful 23 hours, but I felt the need to document it for both my own sake the potential interest of future TWU participants. I lost track of how many time zones I flew through. It was sunny when I left Chicago and sunny 8 hours later in Frankfurt. We arrived in Bangalore at 12:20 in the morning.

Most of it is already a blur at this point, but a few things that still stand out:

• wondering if it was just coincidence a flight attendant named "Stickler" who maintained a perfect hairdo and uniform throughout the flight
• thinking the $300 "upgrade" to economy plus is a laughable overcharge when checking in
• thinking the $300 upgrade to economy plus is an incredibly good deal five hours in
• "So you're traveling to India for work? How long have you been with this company?"
  "It's my second day"
• wishing Mercedes would win the bus contract for the Chicago Transit Authority
• admiring the smart and efficient use of the inclined plane in Frankfurt security
• the immigration officer not believing my picture or my signature was me, asking me to sign something in front of him...which I'd gladly do all day, because my signature is pretty awesome.
• Bangalore International Airport isn't much different from O'Hare. This shockingly huge ad appeared in both:
  
  

The real adventure begins on the way to the office from the airport. More on that here soon...