A viagem de volta - The trip back

Essa viagem de volta foi cheia de aventuras... Pra ter uma idéia, tive que pegar 4 vôos pra chegar em casa!!! Mas deixa eu contar em mais detalhes. =D

No primeiro vôo, de Tulsa pra Houston, sentou uma senhora queniana do meu lado. Muito simpática, porém ela me pediu pra ajudá-la a encontrar o portão do próximo vôo dela, porque ela nunca tinha estado em Houston e tinha medo de perder o avião. Eu, como bom samaritano que sou, claro que não neguei. E só dava eu pra cima e pra baixo com a velhinha pelo aeroporto... Sorte a minha que era perto do portão do meu vôo.

Depois disso, esperei umas 4 horas até dar a hora do meu vôo para o Brasil. O vôo pro Brasil foi normal, cansativo como era de se esperar, com atrasos e tal. Mas normal... Detalhe: o vôo faz escala em São Paulo antes de ir pro Rio, e óbvio que eu tinha esquecido isso. Resultado: tive que pegar um vôo do Rio pra Curitiba, fazendo escala de volta em São Paulo... =P

Chegando no Rio, tive um exemplo claro de que, às vezes, ser honesto não compensa. Na alfândega, fui declarar as coisas que comprei nos EUA, e a mulher da alfândega ficou espantada comigo. Pelo jeito, ninguém declara, todo mundo vai passando... Aí o cara achou estranho e quis revistar minha bagagem toda, demorou um tempão! Depois disso, me passou pra um terceiro, que ia preparar a papelada com o imposto que eu tinha que pagar. Aí ele me perguntou: "Você declarou por sua própria vontade, sem terem te pego???". Realmente, ninguém nunca deve declarar nada... Nisso tava quase na hora do meu vôo pra Curitiba. Além de demorar pra fazer a papelada, me mandou ir pagar lá no aeroporto mesmo, antes de poder pegar minhas coisas... Subi 3 andares de escada voando, e dei de cara com uma fila enorme no banco. Sorte que conversei com o cara do balcão, e ele me deixou passar na frente. Depois desci os 3 andares mais rápido ainda, e peguei minhas coisas na alfândega.

Saindo da alfândega, tinha uns 20 minutos antes do avião decolar. Peguei um carrinho e fui correndo pro check-in. Como o Renner diz, sou muito cassiânico, e é claro que a rodinha do carrinho tinha que quebrar e parar de rodar, e não tinha nenhum outro carrinho por perto. E como desgraça pouca é bobagem, o check-in da Varig era no terminal 2, e eu tava no terminal 1, no extremo oposto do aeroporto (beeeem oposto).

Ok, "vamos encarar o perigo" (SIC)... Já todo suado com o calor do Rio, reuni minhas forças pra empurrar aquele carrinho lazarento pelo aeroporto. Vi aquelas esteiras rolantes e pensei: "Show, vou conseguir andar 2 vezes mais rápido!". Eis que na segunda esteira, a rodinha do carrinho trava na entrada da esteira, e a porra do carrinho tomba, levando todas as minhas malas ao chão. Quase chuto tudo de raiva, mas lembrei que minha mochila tava cheio de coisas eletrônicas... Enfim, coloquei tudo de volta no carrinho e continuei.

Lembram que eu falei sobre estar procurando o check-in da Varig? Então, como eu adoro a Varig... Chegando lá, descobri que o meu vôo não existia mais... Me mandaram pro balcão da TAM, pra tentar entrar na fila de espera de um possível vôo. Na TAM, sou informado de que todos os vôos pra Curitiba tinham sido transferidos pro outro aeroporto, o Santos Dumont (eu tava no Galeão), e que eu tinha que me virar pra chegar lá na hora se quisesse pegar o vôo. Aí já era demais... Fui furioso pra cima da atendente da Varig e exigi que me pagassem um taxi, pelo menos. Ela me mandou falar com um supervisor lá, e como eu acho que ele já tinha lidado com um monte de gente na mesma situação, nem quis discutir... Me deu logo o taxi e me despachou, o que diminuiu um pouco a minha raiva.

A minha sorte foi que o taxicista era de uma direção extremamente ofensiva, e foi voando pro aeroporto, tanto é que deu tempo de eu pegar o Vôo. E no caminho, uma ironia do destinho: vi escrito num carro à nossa frente a segunte frase: "Eu amo a Varig."... Alguém devia estar fazendo piada comigo.

Finalmente, cheguei no aeroporto exatamente 8 minutos antes do Vôo decolar. Mas aquilo tava uma zona, e todos os Vôos estavam atrasados, o que foi bom pra mim. O de São Paulo também estava, mas eu já nem me importava mais, só queria chegar logo em casa.

Depois de toda essa jornada, foram 4 aviões diferentes, passando por 7 aeroportos diferentes... Nada mau pra começar os dias de folga... eheheh... Ok, vejo vocês em alguns dias!

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This trip back was full of adventures... Just to have an idea, I had to get 4 flights to go home!!! But let me tell you in more details. =D

In the first flight, from Tulsa to Houston, an old lady from Kenya had sat by my side. She was very kind, but asked me to help her finding the gate for her next flight, because she never had been to Houston, and she was afraid to lose the flight. I, as good samaritan that I am, of course coudn't deny. So you can imagine me walking around the airport with this old lady... At least her gate was close to mine, I was lucky about that.

After that, I waited about 4 hours until my flight's time, to Brazil. This flight was normal, very tiring, as expected, with delays and so on. But normal... A detail: this flight has a connection in São Paulo, before going to Rio de Janeiro, and of course I had forgotten about that. As result, I had to get a flight from Rio de Janeiro to Curitiba, with a connection in São Paulo again... =P

When I arrived Rio, I had a clear example that, sometimes, being honest doesn't worth. In the customs service, I went to declare the things I had bought in USA, and the woman from there was surprised with me. It seems that no one declares things, everyone just go through... Then one other guy found it really weird, and wanted to inspect all my luggage, it took a lot of time! After that, I was told to go to a third guy, who was going yo prepare all papers with the taxes I should pay. Then he asked me: "Are you declaring by yourself, without being caught???". Indeed, no one declares... By this time, it was almost time for my next flight, to Curitiba. Even it took a long time to prepare all the papers, he told me to pay there in the airport, to be able to retrieve my stuff... I went up three floors running through the stairs, and I faced an huge line in the bank. At least I was a little lucky, and when I talked to the guy at the counter, he allowed me to go through the line. After this, I went down those 3 floors even faster, and finally I could get my stuff at the customs service.

After all this, I had about 20 minutes before the airplane take off. I got a hand cart and ran to the check-in. As Renner aways says, I'm very cassianic, and of course the wheels of the hand cart had to break and stop turning, and there was no other hand cart next there. And, as we say in portuguese, "just a few misfortunes doesn't worth", Varig's check-in was in terminal 2, and I was in the terminal 1, exactly in the opposite edge of the airport (reeealy opposite).

Ok, "let's face the danger" (SIC)... I was all sweat because of Rio's weather, and I gathered my last energies to push that damn hand cart through the airport. I saw some of those rolling tracks and thought: "Cool, I can move faster!". But, on the second track, the cart's wheel got stuck on the track's entrance, and the fucking cart fell aside, dropping all my bags in the floor. I almost kicked it because of my angry, but I remembered that my backpack was full of electroniv stuff... Anyway, I put everything back in the cart and kept walking.

Do you remember when I told you that I was looking for Varig's check-in? So, I love Varig... When I got there, I found out that my flight didn't exist anymore... They sent me to TAM's counter, to try to be on a wait list of a possible flight. There, I was informed that all flights to Curitiba had been transfered to another airport, Santos Dumont (I was in Galeão), and I had to find a way to get there on time if I wanted to get the flight. That was too much... I furiously "jumped" on the Varig's clerk and ordered them to at least pay a taxi for me. So she told me to talk to the supervisor, and I think he already had discussed with lots of people in the same situation as me, so he didn't even want to talk... Quickly gave me the taxi and "see ya!", what got me a little less angry than before.

I was lucky with the taxi driver, because he was an extreme offensive driver, and he "flew" to the airport, so I was on time to get the flight. And on our way, some "destiny's irony" (also as we say in portuguese), I saw written in a car this sentence: "I love Varig."... Someone might have been making jokes on me.

Finally, I got at the airport exactly 8 minutes before my flight take off. But everything was messed up, and all flights were delayed, what was good for me. The next one, from São Paulo to Curitiba, also was delayed, but I didn't care anymore, I just wanted to get at home soon.

After this whole journey, I took 4 different airplanes, going through 7 different airports... Not bad to begin my days off... ehehhe... Ok, see you in some days!