Long long flight to Israel
Israel, was a wonderful experience for me. It was the first international trip I had made in a long time and how in meeting different cultures we meet the right people.
My first flight was to NYC, it was the flight that connected me to my next 24 hr adventure to Israel. I stayed in an airbnb on Newark 5 minutes from the airport but 1 hour to Manhattan. I had just enough time to grab a coffee on central park, visit Time square and go back home. New York is always amazing. However, the big nightmare started when I grab my plane to Israel.
I had an overlay in Iceland for 8 hours, in which they offered me to volunteer to stay because the flight was overbooked. I enthusiastically accepted and I got my bags taken down from the plane. They just told me to wait until the flight departed. I waited for a couple of hours because the flight got delayed and when all of the people were already boarded they called my name and told me I should board. To my surprise I was the only volunteer that was called to board but the difference is that I was the first to volunteer. I got a upset for a minute but I accepted that I will travel that day and that my chance to stay on day in Iceland was not possible.
When I got to the plane all of the seats were taking and the one that I bought to have more leg space was taken by a 6-year-old and her mother. I couldn't protest about it as they needed to stay together, but I did protest to the flight assistant that chose to took the seat that I bought and put them there. She told me I will be relocated and because I was the last passenger on the plane I had... the last seat of the plane.
Yeah! The one where you can't stretch your legs or recline the chair, the one were the only "perk" is that is next to the bathroom but not if other people have emergencies. I had to be between a family of 7 yelling at each other during the whole flight and did not even have an opportunity to take a nap.
Finally, I saw (or barely through my neighbors window) the beautiful beautiful desert covering the whole landscape that announced that I had arrived after all this ride. I got into the carousel with all the bags and waited for my bright orange bag to come. And I waited for 5 minutes and people were leaving, and I stood still, hoping my bag to come and finally get out of the bad experience that certainly couldn't get worse. It could. As I saw families, couples, and tourist leaving happily with their bags I stood there with only one black bag going round and round for about 15 minutes now. I just couldn't believe it. I looked and asked around if they were more bags coming and in a broken but clear English that the black bag was the last one.
I desperately thanked him and asked him what could I do next. He said I needed to go to immigration fill out a form and do the line in customs. While I went to the line I saw that the whole paper was written on Hebrew, a language I am not familiar with or even remotely could at least try to understand. Fortunately, I had met this passenger on the plane that helped through all the process and guide me safe and sound to the station that would leave me where I needed to get.
Lots of things actually happened after, the train station was actually closed, my bag was not traceable and did not arrive after 5 days. Nevertheless, everything worked out in the end, and I have lots of memories from Israel that fill my heart with joy whenever I think of them.
