Man, it’s hot as Pennsylvania here! Actually, that’s not even true. Highs here are around 90, while they topped 100 at home much of the last week. Still, it is plenty warm when you are dragging around luggage. I hate travel. Going new places and seeing new things is great, but I am unconvinced that it is worth the hassle of being away from home and the process of getting there. Allow me to illustrate my experiences yesterday:
The first leg of my journey was a short flight from Williamsport to Philadelphia, scheduled to depart at 5:55am. This meant waking up at 5:00am, 4 hours earlier than usual. I attempted to go to bed 4 hours early at 9:00pm the night before, but did not actually manage to fall asleep until a more typical 1:00am. Although we flew through a rainstorm, that first part of the journey was not bad. I arrived at Philadelphia International Airport around 6:50am.
Having a substantial block of time before my connecting flight, departing at 11:50, I called some friends that live in Philly to get some breakfast and hang out. Because getting through airport security can be a slow process, I cut our visit short to be back at the airport at 10:25. Naturally, I was through security and sitting at my gate by 10:40. I dozed in that wondrous state somewhere between fully awake and fully asleep for some time before finding out that my flight was delayed until 1:00pm, and then 1:30pm, due to maintenance issues. Once we had actually boarded the airplane and begun taxiing an hour and forty minutes late, the pilot informed us that air traffic control would not have an open runway for us for the next half hour.
Thus, I arrived in Atlanta sometime after 4:00pm, then walked what seemed like several miles from terminal D to baggage claim. There was apparently an inter-terminal subway that I could have ridden, but the signage was not clear that it would take me where I needed to go. After about half an hour of watching the baggage carousel rotate, everyone I recognized from my flight had taken their bags and left, while mine had never made it onto the belt. I stayed there, hoping that perhaps those bags that had been transferred from another flight would be coming out later, for another 15 minutes until a security officer walked past. When I explained the situation to her, she suggested I visit the U. S. Airways service desk to file notice that it had been lost. At the service desk was a row of bags, one of which was mine. I was unable to get an answer from the attendant as to why my bag was here instead of with the others, but was glad to take it and move on.
I took the MARTA Red Line from the airport station to the North Avenue station, where I followed signs for the exit to street level and found myself on West Peachtree Street NW. I planned to walk around the station until I found North Avenue, but this proved somewhat difficult as I reached 3rd Street NE, then Peachtree Street NE, then Ponce De Leon Avenue NE, then back to Peachtree Street NW. Thankfully someone was able to inform me that North Avenue was on the other side of Ponce De Leon Avenue NE, and when I reached there I found a second exit from the subway station. If there had been informative signs inside, I might have saved myself more than half a mile of confused walking in the heat. Another half mile or so brought me to the North Avenue Apartments West, where after waiting 15 minutes for a housing department employee to show up, I was able to check-in to my room at 6:30pm.
Exhausted by hungry, I visited the main branch of The Varsity. I have an interest in old fast-food establishments that never became national chains and places “iconic in the modern culture” of cities I visit, but more importantly I had passed it on my walk from the subway station to where I was staying. The service there is … interesting. There is no line to speak of for people waiting to place their orders, just a long counter with a dozen or more cash registers and a mass of people milling about in front of them. Thus, no one seems to know when to step up without cutting in front of someone, and employees are screaming “What’ll you have, what’ll you have?” at the top of their lungs every 15 seconds to convince someone to come place an order. The seating arrangements in the restaurant are school desks arranged in rows just like a classroom. I ordered a Glorified Bacon Cheeseburger combo with fries. The burger was not very good, even by fast food standards. The french fries were fresh-cut, which means they were tasty even though they seemed like they had been under a heat lamp for a bit too long.
Following my meal, unpacking, and a quick shower, I managed to be in bed by 8:30pm and slept, with some interruptions, until 6:30am.