International Travel, Wednesday January 5, 2011

There is nothing glamorous about international travel, or any travel for that matter. Gone are the days of anticipation and excitement about a trip. Now it is a means to an end with a destination in sight.

Don’t get me wrong, I love it when I get there, but the whole process of packing, booking, organizing, sorting and planning every last detail leaves me absolutely cold. I need a secretary. That person of course is me. When the children are with us, and even when they are travelling without me, it is up to me to book the flights and organize end to end transport. In the case of Emma, her flight to the US generally arrives before school opens and so she needs to be taken somewhere and then we need to organize the final leg of the trip.

Charles can be left a bit more to his own devices, but having managed to temporarily mislay passport, green card and boarding pass in the airport last year, my heart is on my mouth every time he flies.

So tonight Steve and I are off to the UK for a friend’s birthday party. It is a total extravagance and a belated Christmas present to each other. Why would we swap 30 Degrees Celsius (86 degrees farenheit) in Sao Paulo for 7 degrees (45 degrees farenheit) in London, unless they were really good friends. It is also a chance to see family, and there are never enough excuses for that.

So we were driving to the airport when I realized that I had not only forgotten my American Express credit card, but also my driver’s license. Now, I do have a check list, but clearly this failed me. The credit card s necessary because it has automatic insurance for the rental car, and the driver’s license is well obvious.

Here is where the problem occurred. I have a UK wallet – pink; a US wallet – red; and a Brazilian wallet – black. The idea is that everything needed for every country is in the correct place and all I have to do is pick up the correct colour and all is well. In theory at least but I was let down by the fact that I have managed to end up with everything in the wrong place. I always seem to need things, take them out of the appropriate place and then fail to put them back.

“Marcelo, para casa por favor”. Steve took charge at this point and decided that we didn’t have time to go back. He had his Amex card, US driving license as well as Brazilian (yes – Avis do accept both) and he announced that he will do all the driving. Result – apart from the fact that I hate being driven by him – which may be the subject of another blog. Clearly I have been in Brazil too long and have no expectation of driving.

So the international airport is heaving with people. It is holiday season here in Brazil and the world and his wife are travelling. Check in is fine – we both have enough frequent flyer miles to avoid the big queues, but getting through security and immigration, no such privileges.

Now I have an artificial hip, so going through airport security is a nightmare. Zimmer have very kindly given me a card with my name and the type of device that I have printed on it, but none of the security officials take any notice of it.

Going through security in the United States is a serious hassle. There have been a lot of reports in the press lately about the full body scanners and the full body pat down. I would happily go through the full body scanner if I could avoid the full body pat down. I am told they are coming to Newark but so far no joy. So the system is that you set of the alarm, collect your belongings from the belt but don’t touch them. Then in full view of everyone you have to stand on a mat and get the full body massage. Intrusive – absolutely. Gone are the days when they would wave a wand in your direction. Now it is back front and centre. Up and down. Groin, breasts – you name it. If there is a place they can pat you down, trust me they will.

I loved when we lived in Israel. There they racially profile you with no apologies. Forty something with 2 small children got much less attention than a single male travelling alone. Politically incorrect? Absolutely, but it works.

So I love Brazil. I went through the metal detector and sure enough, bells and whistles. Turn around and try again – same result. Take off watch – try again – same result. Take off boots – try again. No alarm. Huh????

Steve and I suspect that the guy in charge of the metal detector had turned down the sensitivity.

Racial profiling Brazilian style – you have to love it