We left our hostel fairly early on the shuttle even though we had an afternoon flight. The later shuttle concerned us, since we didn't know what Turkish customs/security would be like. And after our traumatizing train escapade in Vienna, we decided to err on the side of caution and get to the airport early.
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| If Zaman didn't spend a majority of his time here, I'd think this was his way of trying to get us to stay. |
Luckily there wasn't much traffic, and we made it in great time. The airport required us to X-ray all of our bags, show our passports more than once, get our boarding passes, and then finally check our bags. A quick jaunt through passport control and security, and we figured quite a bit of time had passed. Turns out, it went relatively quickly, and we were THREE. HOURS. EARLY.
Luckily there was a cafe to use WiFi and just chill. Not to be confused with Netflix and Chill. We took turns reading, people watching and dozing off until it was time to find our terminal. Our flight out was much less of a hassle than any of the other times we had been here, and I'm SO glad it was a direct flight this time around. No layover, stops or other headaches. We even got the front seats by the bulkhead again, though I learned from previous mistakes and kept my feet up for a good portion of it.
The main issues were with the guy to my left that didn't understand the concept of personal space (I had to lean somewhat into Nikki's territory to keep from touching him). Nikki's TV wouldn't stay up on its own, so she had to hold it in place any time she wanted to watch a movie. I offered to switch with her when I wanted to nap, but she obviously didn't want that guy all up in her business either.
No photos of food or movies this time. I was exhausted. I love these trips that we do, because we pack so much in to such a short amount of time, but damn, I'm just completely spent at the end of them. We arrived safely in Chicago without incident, and passport control was quick and smooth (as opposed to other times that take forever).
I guess the travel gods weren't going to let us off that easy though, because we waited for 45 minutes or so before our luggage came. And, everyone else had the same travel crabbiness in them, so no one was really friendly waiting by the conveyor belt. My carry-on was ridiculously heavy with a billion souvenirs in it, and I just wanted to sleep.
Our luggage did come, but we didn't feel like another hour long trek via the "L" and bus service. We opted for a cab this time around, though he did have to drop us off a few blocks from Nikki's apartment, due to the remnants of the Pride parade winding down. A quickish stop at Chipotle to grab some dinner (I was starving, and there were drunk parade goers everywhere), and we headed back to Nikki's apartment. Fortunately for her, her journey was over. I still had to get home to StL.
Due to how close our flight in was compared to when the last train left Chicago, I hadn't wanted to risk booking the late train that night. I just didn't think I'd make it, and turns out, I wouldn't have. Especially since some of my stuff (including my house keys) were still at Nikki's.
We spent a restless night trying to sleep, though neither of us really could. Nikki was up super early to go for a run to help ease the restlessness, and I showered before my final leg. Amtrak to the rescue again. I'm not sure how Nikki managed to go to work that day, but she dropped me off at Union Station on her way in, and I found my platform for my final leg home.
Unfortunately, that leg was just as bad as the one in to Chicago two weeks earlier. Numerous stops in the middle of nowhere, backing up, and no communication from the conductors. The worst was when we could SEE the Arch, and we sat still for over an hour. Turns out the rains had flooded some of the tracks, so we had to share with other trains, but that wasn't explained to us while we waited.
I was starving at this point, expecting to be home two hours prior. Luckily, I had a few dollars in cash because the food cart didn't take cards. And something told me they wouldn't take any remaining Turkish Lira either.
We finally arrived in StL, over 2.5 hours later than scheduled, thus forcing me to get a cab to my house (my friend had planned on getting me, but with the delay in our train, she couldn't miss an important work meeting). My stupid cab ride cost as much as my entire train ticket did. So, just a word of caution. If you take Amtrak, be sure you have plenty of time to get to your destination, and don't plan on any set pick up plans that can't be changed.
In hindsight, this train delay wasn't really that big of a deal, but in the moment when I just wanted to be home already, it was a struggle not to lose my sh*t.
But, on the brightside, I just spent 14 days in 5 countries and 9 cities with some of my favorite people in the world. I'd say a little train snafu pales in comparison, no?
Until next time!
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