Friday the 13th

Friday was a very interesting travel day. The airline, Peruvian, doesn't schedule layovers. If you want to make a connection, you schedule them separately, so we did.

Our flight was scheduled to leave Iquitos at 8:30am, which would put us in Lima at 10:10. Then we needed to exit and go back to check-in for our next flight- leaving for Arequipa at 12:00.

Well, to start the day off right, we must get a mototaxi to the airport at 6:00, which goes swimmingly. 

We check-in for our flight right at 6:30, as planned. Flight delayed by 20 minutes. Crap. 

I decide right then and there that we may miss our connection and that the Type A personality in me will just have to be ok with that.
 

Luckily, the delay lessens and we only take off 15 minutes late. We arrive in Lima at about 10:20 and race back to check-in. We weren't too worried because the first time we flew Peruvian, it was a breeze. They didn't glance at our slightly large carryons and we were the first people in line. Not this time. Not on Friday the 13th. Around the corner we come... and run smack dab into a line that extends passed the Disneyland-esque line dividers. Crap again. We are waiting in line and I'm compulsively counting the seconds on my "outdoor watch" (the less than ladylike timepiece I sport for hiking, etc). We have to get through security and to our gate to board at 11:15. It's 10:43 and we are the last people in line.
 

Thankfully, at about 10:48, one of the attendants begins to query the patrons in line about their destinations and herds all those heading to Arequipa into a special line. Lucky for us, the country runs on "Peruvian time" and folks just assume you'll be late. The airline was ready for this, and we breezed on through to the front of the line. It's 10:52 and we are next up. Phew.
 

We hear "adelante" (come forward) our way and approach the booth. This lady is less than stoked to see us. She immediately makes us weigh our bags, which of course, are outside the carryon limit by about 3 lbs each. We say that we will throw a few items in our other bags (my purse, Jeff's daypack) and get the bags under weight. She then informs us that because our flight is full, we each only get one bag on the plane and must check both our backpacks. 10:58. It occurs to me in that moment that neither of our bags have tags on them. We have been carrying them on and planned on getting proper tags in Lima on the stopover. 11:02. Both Jeff and I are flustered, and the attendant chooses then to speak only in quick Spanish, tags our bags, and away they are whisked on the conveyor belt. 

She hands over our boarding passes and I begin to freak out a bit. We are walking towards security and I realize, my credit card and American cash are in my (now checked) backpack. Greattttt. Just what I need, to have to cancel my stolen credit card today. Jeff also had one of his cards in his backpack. We had, at the time cleverly, separated all our important documents so that if my purse was stolen, we wouldn't be "up a certain creek".
 

I'm now panicked, irritated, and rushed. 11:08. We get through security and to our gate in time, but can't think of anything but how stupid we both feel.
 

We had intended to sleep and read on the next 1:30 flight, but that wasn't possible now. Those of you who know me well know that I suffer somewhat of a paranoia. The whole flight I am devising the plan for how to handle the loss of all the things I'm confident will be stolen. While this might make some people more irritated, it actually helped a great deal. I realized, in the end, that there was nothing I couldn't live without in that bag and that it wouldn't ruin the trip. On the other hand, I informed Jeff that if my bag didn't show up at all, I would be turning right around and flying back to America.
 

You see, for better or for worse, I'm reading a great novel about a doctor traveling to the Amazon. While it hasn't helped any of my nerves, it's a phenomenal read. In the book, the protagonist's luggage was lost it was sent to Spain and then never recovered. I would not be waiting around for that!

We arrived in Arequipa to the International airport that consists of one room and a partially paved runway. They do send flights to Bolivia, so International it is.
 

We arrive at baggage claim, which is a roped off section of the room where they are unloading luggage and a man in a nifty hat holds up each piece until it's claimed by the patron with the correct corresponding baggage tag. While seemingly inefficient, it worked quite well. This ensures no stolen luggage! Jeff's bag was on the first shipment- go figure. The man who worries about virtually nothing gets his bag first. I'm sure there is some cosmic reason for this. Another shipment arrives, no Kate bag. I'm working really hard to keep my cool and finally, on shipment three, my red backpack appears! I almost knock the man in front of me over when I raise my hand to eagerly claim my bag. I get it, move off to a corner and commence to unpack right then and there to make sure my things were well. Not a single article out of place. I couldn't have been more relieved.
 

Now, we needed to figure out how to get to our hostel. I'd emailed the owner to ask what the best way is, bus or taxi, but didn't hear back by the time we left Iquitos in the wee hours of the morn. It took a few minutes, but we finally decided upon a taxi and wrote out the exact address on a slip of paper for the driver. We also went so far as to circle it on our map, just in case. We head out the double doors and come face to face with an old Peruvian woman with a piece of notebook paper that says "Katheryn Lents" on it. What a stroke of luck! I'd emailed to hostel and didn't yet get there reply. But when I finally got to my email, there was a note that simply said "I go for you at airport. -Maria". Here was Maria. The day was shaping up quite nicely.
 

We arrive at the hostel and settle in. We learned that there was a, wait for it, double decker bus tour we could take of Arequipa. We headed to check out the main town square and get tickets. We got dinner and wound down a nice little evening after a very long day.

I was hesitant the jinx it, but Friday the 13th usual turns out to be quite a lucky day in my family. This time, thankfully, was no different.