After a few hundred thousand miles, I thought that I had this International travel thing figured out. Sure, there’s not much you can do about a lost bag, except wait for it to be found. [To mitigate the potential loss, though, it’s a good idea to split stuff between your checked bag and carry on, just in case.] The effect of missed, cancelled, or incredibly delayed flights can also be eased through the use of a really good travel agent, that the Company has so, while inconvenient, there are logistics workarounds. I carry plenty of reading material and plenty of meds, and even got a dual band world phone. This, more, and armed with the “Be Prepared” motto I found in the Boy Scouts generally prepares me for whatever’s going to go wrong.
But not always.
We got off of the plane in Doha with no incident and little fanfare. There are just two of us, so it was an easy task to round up the team. The flight was fine, the bags were delivered. All we needed to leave the airport was a rental car (an unsatisfying Dodge Avenger, with huge blind spots).
The rental car business is somewhat smaller in the Middle East than in the States. There’s not the massive parking lot dedicated to each agency that you might be used to. At Doha, the agent is in a countered cubicle adjacent to the countered cubicles of each of the other 20 rental car agencies. Once the documentation is complete, another nondescript (except to his mother, of course) appears to walk us out to our vehicle, perhaps half a kilometer away in a small lot lost within the mass of public parking lots. Even in an Englishcentric environment, I think it would be hard to describe how to find the place. Of course, using well designed signage would be cheating, but would also relieve Mr. Nondescript of his job.
Anyway, we trudged along behind him through the 100^ heat of the late evening. At the car, he unlocked and started it, so that the air conditioning would warm up and cool down the interior before our drive to the hotel. In the mean time, we did the visual inspection and locked our bags in the trunk. Final papers in order, I reached for the front door, only to find it locked, car running, bags sealed in the trunk, air conditioner blasting.
“Hmmm”, I said, actually saying, “Hmmm.”
About 40 minutes later, a second set of keys appeared, which was about 38 minutes after we had exhausted the entire English repertoire of Mr. Nondescript. The lesson – take the keys and keep them.
A couple of days later we dropped off the car, simply leaving it in the public lot and taking the ticket back to a small shack and letting the attendants know about where we had left it. The inside of the shack was lined with very small carrels for the representatives of each of the various car agencies. As I dealt with my business, I watched the screen of the adjacent agent, who was systematically paging through great collections of Facebook images, selecting the pretty girls and making friend requests of them, at a rate of close to 10 per minute. He was a friend making machine, and I wish him all the best.
On the other hand,… Zach and I are being accompanied by up to five government minders, all bureaucrats from the United States who work to make sure that we don’t spend money from the cyan pot, when this money is only to be spent from the aquamarine pot. They are masters of tiny little regulations. It came as some surprise, then, when the one I really wasn’t getting along with tried to enter the UAE with his diplomatic passport, when only the citizen passport is accepted, unless he had a letter from the State Deportment countersigned by the local embassy, in quadruplicate.
Bottom line, he wasn’t allowed past the immigration desk and got deported within hours. So, with the scheduled early departure of one of the others, we two are down to just three minders, but for just two more days.
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