16 January 2018 – I rose, got dressed, and ate some
breakfast before departing for the Tocumen International Airport at 7:30 a.m.
Leanardo drove me again and on the way, he told me Tocumen was a very famous
chief and Tocumen International Airport was named after him. Other than that, I
don’t know any more about the guy. I gave Leanardo two of my blog cards so if
he wanted to look at the pictures I took, he could. He dropped me off and we
shook hands goodbye.

I hiked it down to my gate and it was full of people leaving
on an earlier flight. My flight didn’t leave until 10:45 a.m. and I had some
spare time so I found a chair in another gate that was free of people. The only
thing I have to say about me waiting for two-plus hours is about the gate
attendant. I am not kidding you about
this; she talked for two hours straight. The only time she came up for air was
when someone asked her a question. She was talking to a co-worker. I could hear
every word she was speaking and wished I could have understood the
conversation.

One noteworthy situation during my otherwise uneventful flight
was a mother who came into the airplane with her three children and Grandpa and
Grandma. The instant the mother sat down the baby started crying. Nothing
slowed down the crying. Mid-flight, Grandpa came up to console the baby and the
crying got louder. Then Grandma came up and took the baby. The crying moved to about
seven rows behind me. All the toys, consoling and pats didn’t quiet this baby.
You know if that was in the U.S. that mother would have been hiding in the lavatory
trying to muffIe that baby. All the well-meaning people around the baby would
have been having a fit. I was among the first 20 people to leave the aircraft and
escape from the baby. You know, that was two straight hours of crying and no
one on the plane got upset about it either. Very impressive.
So, I was off to immigration. All the signs were in English
and Spanish, so no problems finding immigration. It wasn’t real clear to me
which line I should be in so I stood in the first line I came to. Each one of
these two lines had at least 200 people and I didn’t know which was the right line
for me. After about 20 minutes I changed lines and stood in the other line. The
three guys in front of me were English speaking so I asked them how to know
which line I should be in? Well they were shocked I spoke with them and one the
guys said they were in a connecting flight line or departing line. Uh-oh, that
clicked a light on in my head and I looked at little closer at the sign, and
sure enough it said DEPARTING. I looked at the other sign and it said,
IMMIGRATING. I started out in the correct line, then I changed to the incorrect
line, so I had to change back to the other line again. Well, that little goof
up cost me another 45 minutes in Immigration. The line trickled on slowly and I
eventually got my passport stamped.
Thinking I was all done with Customs and Immigration, I
exited the room. One of my first priorities was to purchase $200 USD in
Columbian Pesos, and then to sit down and take a break after my ordeal. I ate
an apple and a candy bar. While I was eating my apple I happened to glance down
the airport hallway toward the exit sign. To my surprise, there was Customs
waiting for me. So I dug out the customs form I filled out earlier. I gave them
my passport and the form. They glanced at the form and put it in a pile and
gave back my passport. She pointed to the x-ray machines and I headed in that
direction. My laptop, my helmet and motorcycle paperwork were scanned.
Everything came out clean and I actually was through Columbian Customs and
Immigration now.
I walked out into a waiting area and found a chair. I needed
to find the address of the Air Cargo Pack Terminal and take a taxi to it. I
knew it was near but I didn’t know how close. I did get a taxi, and he takes me
to a gate which he can’t get in to. He asked at the gate how I could get in and
get to Air Cargo Pack to pick up my motorcycle. Well, the Gate Guard said, he
needs to see a passport and I had to have my picture taken. At the same time an
Air Cargo Pack delivery truck was coming through the gate. He caught wind of me
and said he could give me a ride to the terminal. When the guard was finished
with me, they let me through the gate and I jumped into truck and the driver
dropped me off at Air Cargo Pack Office / Officina.
Once there, someone gave me an escort to the office. It was
on the 2nd floor. I was introduced to the office staff and offered a glass of
water. I presented my paperwork to them, which they worked on once they
completed their more pressing issues. Within 30 minutes everything was ready
for Customs in another building. Carlos and I hiked over there. I had to be
specially cleared to enter the building, and Carlos had a pass. The room was
full of people. Everyone who came in had to sign a log book and then request a
certain type of help. My helper was handling all of that. I was just there to
sign paperwork. We took our chairs among the mass of people waiting their turn.
I know we were in Customs by 3:00 p.m. It was about 5:00 p.m. by the time they
started my paperwork. It took 20 to 30 minutes to complete it and then I had to
sign all the copies of it. Carlos’s wife called and asked what the hold up was,
and when he was going to be home. Even though I didn’t understand the words he
was saying, a guy recognizes those telephone calls from a mile away.
These are cards and stickers from others who have shipped their motorcycles using Air Cargo Pack. I added my blog card to the wall. I also found my Brazilian friend's sticker there.
By the time we left Customs it was dusk and a light rain was
falling. I placed the paperwork in my plastic bags to keep it dry and wore my
helmet on my head. This rain is not making me happy. We got back to Air Cargo
Pack’s office and put the finishing touches on my paperwork. Carlos left for
home. He had worked past his shift. The lady processing my paperwork (bless her
soul) also worked past her shift to get my paperwork finished. By this time, it
was dark and I wasn’t going to drive in the dark where I can’t see pot holes
and don’t know where I am going. I asked where can I find a taxi and they said,
you can walk. I said it was too far to walk. I told the office staff, its dark,
I’ve been in Bogota for six hours, I don’t speak Spanish, I don’t read Spanish,
I don’t understand Spanish, I don’t ride my motorcycle in the dark and I don’t
know the roads. What do I do if I get lost? They basically told me I was a big
wuss. The office lady said she would show me to my hotel. All the guys were
snickering that I had to be shown to my hotel by a woman. I didn’t know at the
time that it would be a two mile walk or I would have taken a taxi. My laptop
and motorcycle paperwork weigh at least 10 Lbs. / 4.5 Kgs. My arms felt like
they were 2 Inches / 51 mm longer after the walk, but we got there.
We arrived at the Marriott Hotel about 7:00 p.m. I checked
into the hotel with my reservation and everything went fine. I asked the
reception lady if the Courtesy Shuttle could drop me off at Air Cargo Pack by
the airport in the morning. She said it leaves for the airport every hour on
the hour and should be no problem dropping me off. So, I took my helmet,
laptop, motorcycle paperwork and tooth brush to my room and went to bed. It felt strange not making multiple trips to
carry all my bags up to my room.
No comments:
Post a Comment