Indeed, the only time there was with his son on an amusement park ride in Hong Kong.

Madone59, I sympathise with you brother, I really do. Thanks for the comment...

Thor3, my wife refuses to read FT. Says she would rather wash the car. Or do laundry. Perhaps even both.

I hope you found them...

My thanks to you 000 (or do we call you 9-1-1 now that I am in the US?)

aschuett, I am very grateful for you kind comments...trust me, it wouldn't be funny every day. I only write from experience. Thankfully this stuff doesn't happen every day :)

Funniest comment I have ever read in 3-years on FT. Classic. I laughed so much I nearly peed...

SFO777, coming from you, the TR God, I am very humbled. And we can exchange notes when we meet for a drink...talk soon :)

I know. Better be careful what I say...:p

We are all in this together...thank you for your nice comment. Appreciate it!

I really hope you recover quickly. And thanks for being so nice...

We love Colorado. Whats not to love. Great beer. Great weather. Close to skiing. And dope is soon to be legal! :)

Don't worry. Stuff happened in NYC - just wait another day or so while I gather my thoughts...and thanks for the nice compliment

Dont know how. I can barely remember what to write...:p

UA-Flyer, mighty nice of you to say so. Many thanks for your kind words...

EightBlack, welcome to Denver. I look forward to being invited to your house for a Denver Do. I won't even bring Fosters as a housewarming gift.

We are definitely spoiled with simultaneous TRs by eightblack and SFO777. And now that both are in DEN, I want to go to a DEN DO!

"What a cracker of a report!"

Once again a very pleasant and entertaining read. Eightblack you are truly the best! Can't wait for the next part :)

I know you've been told this before eightblack, but you really should publish (or at least e-publish) a short book of your reports. They're a great read, and would fit nicely in the humourous non-fiction section!

And next time you're in NYC, say hi to Joe for me. A great guy as you say!

*edit*
Oh and hurry up with the next instalment! We're hanging over here ;)

Awesome TR eightblack, please keep going! :)

I remember the first time I visited New York. I had no clue. Some would argue I still don't. I remember getting caught up in one of those street hustles - where the guy tries to have you guess where the ball is. You know, under the 3 cups. There's a gang of people around, people are cheering and everyone is watching with baited breath as the next "sucker" is relieved of his money. Bit like marriage really.

I kid. I kid.

What you don't realize as a New York "newbie" is that half the crowd are in on the act as well. I walked away lighter in the pocket, swearing to my friend that I was sure the ball was in "that cup". You know, the one on the end.

Anyway, not much has changed in 20-years. Except today, the people who relieve you of your money are the charlatans who want to rent you bicycles to ride around Central Park.

Because of the food we had ingested the day before, I thought the Eight Black clan needed to do some exercise. And why not ride around one of the best city parks in the world. So it was settled then. Central Park here we come.

Actually, the night before was a bit of a disaster if I'm honest. As I was out stuffing myself at Delaney Barbecue, the wife and 2 kids were sleeping. In fact they had been sleeping since their Carnegie Deli lunch. Which was a big mistake. Because when they did wake up at 12 midnight, they collectively decided that they were now hungry and it was a good time to go out walking around Times Square.

Apparently, everything was open. Toy stores. Restaurants. And everything in between. Which shouldn't have come as a surprise as this was the City which never sleeps. Which may still be true, but it didn't stop a New York Police officer asking my better half what on earth she was out doing roaming the streets of New York at 1am in the morning with 2 young children.

So the bike riding then. Off we charge to Central Park. We look at all the quaint little retail stalls and then fall victim to the bike hustler. You know, I should have seen it coming. It went something like this...

"Hey buddy, looking to rent some bikes" the hustler muses
"As a matter of fact we are" I answer
"Well, we have great bikes and I can do you a great deal" he says, putting his arm around my shoulder like a long lost friend
"Is that your wife or your daughter? Man she is one hot woman…" he says patronizingly
"Er no, that is my 12 year old son" I say matter of factly
"Sorry dude, I thought that was a girl. He needs a haircut don't he…"
"Anyway, as I said, normally our bikes run $432 dollars per day, but I can let you have them each for $60 bucks for 2 hrs. Not including gratuity. How much cash have you got on you?"
"Excuse me?" I answer genuinely surprised by his brazen line of questioning
"How much cash, cos we don't take credit cards"
"I don't have any cash. My wife has it all. Been that way since we were married. If you take a good look in her purse, you'll find she has everything I own in there, including the end results of what she called a vasectomy"
"Really" the bike hustler responds, obviously having no clue of what I just said.
"Yes, she's from Michigan"
"You don't say, boy they make some mighty fine women in Michigan"
"Dude, have you actually been to Michigan"
"Er no"
The hustler continues, not missing a beat
"Yes, look if you want to follow me, our store is right around the corner. Wont take a couple minutes to walk there"
"Why do we have to walk anywhere?"
"Oh because we have a huge store where you can take your pick of the best bikes in the park"
"Really"

And before you knew it, we were all swept up with the street hustlers some what laid back charm. And we followed him as if he was the Pied Piper. The kids didn't even ask where we were going or "were we there yet?"

But as we walked further and further from the Park, one thing was evident. The bike store was hell and gone from where he said and for a second, I thought we were going to be led down a side alley and given a good old fashioned New York mugging. Which would have at least given the kids something to tell their new school friends.

To my surprise, we did arrive at some sort of retail outlet. But you could tell it was makeshift. There was a rather portly middle aged man behind the counter - sort of like Jabba The Hut, who barely raised his brow when we walked in. There were bikes everywhere. Not normal bikes. But the sorriest "fleet" of bikes I have ever seen. Looked like they had done 2 tours of Afghanistan.

But it was too late now. Couldn't back out if we tried. My wife, who is normally rather calm and reserved, looked at me pensively and said to me with her stare "pay the fool and lets get out of here"

Which is what I did.

My wife and daughter grabbed the first tandem bike they saw and despite the fact that it rode like a crab with a very badly buckled back wheel, they didn't complain and bolted off down the street. My son on the other hand, oblivious to the shady surroundings, started asking Jabba The Hut if they had any bikes with engines, or better still, did he rent quad bikes, as he was in no mood to actually do any physical exercise.

I reckon it took a half hour to find our way back to the Park entrance. We were cursing the whole way. And it was a tad cold.

You know your kids have reached their limit when your 9 year old daughter starts using the F word. And then insulting the street hustlers mother. And then her whole village. In Croatian.

Suffice to say the bike riding exercise didn't start well. Go well. Or end well. It was New York reminding you that if you insisted on being a tourist in its city, then you were going to have to learn.

That part of New York never bothers me. It's just New York, being, well, New York. Yes its abrasive. Yes, all the cab drivers drive around as if their underpants are on fire. Yes, everyone in the service industry has their hand out. Yes, people will get in your face in a heartbeat if you do the wrong thing. They don't call it a New York minute for nothing.

Twenty years ago it was the card table hustlers. Now its bike rental merchants and all those people who are collecting money for the homeless, who are on every street corner, pleading for you to dig deep and give them some change. We did this once and after the kids put a few dollars in their collection tin - the man thanked them. And then he answered his cellphone.

But thats the great thing about travel. All the weird experiences. Was it what I expected or wanted? Probably not. But it was quintessential New York. From the stand offish hotel service to the agonizingly long wait for someone to collect our mountain of luggage when we checked out to the tirade of abuse we received from the porter who put our bags into the back of the Suburban as we headed to Newark (we tipped the guy who actually did show up a week late and who did schlepp our bags down to the lobby). This guy actually chased us out of the driveway, hurling obscenities and waving both arms in protest.

If you asked me what was the worst part about traveling with the family was - it would have to be the damn logistics of it all. You see, when we travel solo or "one-up" we can hoof it. Quickly. We know our timing tolerances down to the minute. But when you travel with a family - time stands still. And my family know how much this tips me right over.

It takes hours to put the hotel room back together. The kids have managed to leave crap in 3 countries. Undies. Clothes. Parts to their game boy thingameejigs. Or wees. As in Nintendo. You call the front desk to get a guy to come grab your bags. You wait. You call another guy to help you find a car to transport you and your crap to the airport. You negotiate constantly.

But you know what. Nothing went upside down at all. And that even included a Delta flight. All our bags came out in the first wave. In Dubai. In New York. And even in De-Friggin-Troit. Simply amazing. No mechanicals. No delays. No weather. Nothing. Zip. Nada. Which was really quite disappointing.

I think I've nearly finished. But there are a couple of things I still want to cover if its ok. A mileage run to Dubai and several run-ins with rental cars across one half of the country. But even after all that, I still think America is a great place. Which is why I moved here. Actually no its not. I moved here because my wife told me.

As I write this, I'm sitting in a bar in Seattle. At the Hyatt. As you would expect the bar is full of locals and visitors. Stories are being embellished. As they always are.

Apart from the hideous weather here, its a new city for me. I had to go to a meeting this morning and the idiots who work the front of house told me that where I needed to go was only a half mile away and that I could walk. Ordinarily that would be fine. Except that it was raining cats and dogs. And it was that sort of weather where your bones got cold. You know what I mean.

So I walked it. Against my better judgement. When I arrived at my destination, I looked like a drowned rat. And I knew I had made a mistake when I walked past another hotel and saw two penguins hail a cab and tell the driver to help them get the hell out of dodge.

I'll be back soon. Promise.

You mean you didn't drive Pepe from New York to De-Friggin-Troit? :D

wow: Welcome to new yawk, now go home!
 

as a native new yawkuh, i couldn't wait for you final new yawk installment. (the guido and his cousin comment from the first installment had me rolling on the floor laughing for days). the title says it all.

^thank you so much for the best travel report i've ever read, and probably will read for quite some time. something to aspire to.



The next time you pass through this small island off the east coast of the usa, the drinks are on me!

dan

Great report as always.

I surely hope Pepe is your choice of wheels for your new life in America. It has recently been redesigned and all.

Even though there might not be much aviation related i hope you continue your tales until the family gets settled in Colorado. How are the kids taking to joining a new school in the middle of the year.

Maybe EK will start a DEN-DXB flight soon just for EightBlack. It'd obviously be a money pit with all the champagne he drinks;)

Priceless TR
 

Priceless....If Carlsberg did Trip Reports........:D^

Cheers

http://i372.photobucket.com/albums/o...FM9377beer.jpg

I couldn't help but think of these two clips (see blue links above) as I was reading the latest installment. As everyone has already said, great report.

eightblack, you are truly elevating the humble trip report to an artform. While I sometimes feel sympathy for the lemons life periodically throws at you, I love it when you turn it into lemonade for the rest of us.

BTW, have you ever read David Foster Wallace's travelogues? You might enjoy them as they display the same bemused observations about the quirks and idiosyncracies of everything from cruise ships to State Fairs (something you probably experienced in Nebraska).

I'm glad you and your family made it safe and sound to Denver, even if that means this trip report is shorter than it might have been. I'm still hoping the dog might warrant an addendum, though. Last you mentioned him, he was still cooling his heels in De-Friggin-troit...

eightblack, how true this is. I love my wife, but...

Coming home from Spain earlier this week, we were relaxing in the Lufthansa First Class Terminal waiting for our Personal Assistant to come and tell us our limo ride to the plane is ready. That's when it happened. Mrs. SFO casually asks "do you have my jewelry?" OK, why would I have your frigging jewelry? Yes, apparently it was my job to remove her jewelry from the safe (which I hadn't used that night) and hand it to her. I had to run back to the hotel (fortunately it was the Sheraton), hope that my key still worked and that the jewelry was still there and get back, all in 20 minutes. Indeed, the key worked and the jewelry was there... in the open safe to boot, and I got back in 18 minutes, although sweating like a pig and not someone anyone would want to linger around. :eek:

I've come to the conclusion that I am responsible, fairly or not, for everything my wife brings on a trip with the exception of items in her purse that never emerge from it. So, not only am I responsible, but I am to be blamed if her sunglasses go missing. The safe is a mandatory check on our way out of a hotel room for me. Figure easier to check than write a BIG check to replace.

The exciting part of the trip was sadly, well and truly over. The last mile was the toughest. Take a deep breath now because the next part is bound to cause arguments across the dinner table.

You see, we were heading to Michigan. Project Mother In Law. Also known as The Big One. I say that with love and affection. I really do.

Sorry. That noise you just heard was me falling off the bar stool. I'm fine. Really.

Anyway, our final destination was Detroit. To spend Christmas. And to see if the dog was still alive. We've been going to Michigan each and every Xmas for as long as I can remember.

The next challenge though was renting a car large enough to cope will all our luggage. Thankfully this was the US. The home of large. More importantly this was Michigan. Motown. Or Motorcity. One and the same.

I don't know about you, but I rent a lot of cars. Mainly in the US and in Australia. I'd like to think I know what I'm doing. But Enterprise has thrown me a curve ball recently.

I will explain. Even if you don't want to listen.

As you probably do, I typically book and reserve a car online. Like most people. Sometimes you even receive a confirmation email from the hamster powering the interweb. You arrive at the airport. You look for the shuttle. It's driven by someone who has obviously spent time in a federal penitentiary. You get off and head towards the reception desk. With Hertz, there is an enormous amount of infrastructure at work. But with Enterprise there is one person. Called Phil. Actually there are 2. Phil who works the desk. And his cousin who does everything else.

What you book and what you end up with at Enterprise - is actually a lottery. Then there is the car rental upsell. Enterpise do the paperwork like everyone else. Then they say "someone will be with you shortly to show you to your car.."

Miffed as you may be, you wait patiently. You head outside when your name is called and Phil's cousin extends his/her hand and welcomes you to Detroit. And thanks you for renting with Enterprise. The nice person explains what car you are renting. And then they tell you about the other cars you could rent. For a slight upgrade.

The thing that gets right up my frock is this. When you enquired at check in if they had any larger SUV's, Phil was adamant that they were all sold out. They had nothing. His rental cupboard was as bare as a badgers butt.

But when you go outside to the lot, the place is car rental porn. Cars everywhere. And all available. For a fee. This happened to me 3 separate times. Once in Michigan. Then in Omaha. And finally, just to dig the knife right in, in Colorado. My new home. In fact, it was the worst in Colorado. Bloomin' outrageous.

When we finally landed in Denver, on our last and final leg, if would be safe to say that we were all over flying as a group. I reckon I had paid several hundred dollars in tips to sky caps and baggage boys. The worst of it though was the fact that I booked a mini-van - because they didn't have any SUV's. I hate mini-vans. Worst things invented. Mostly driven by psychopathic mothers on the school run. They drive them as if they had but 10 minutes to get to a shoe sale which was ending in 5...

So once we had collected our bags in DEN, I tell the clan to wait for me while I make the trek to the Enterprise lot, which seemed like it was in another state, it was so far away. Same routine goes down when I step into the office.

"Hi my name is Mike and I'll be helping you today..." says Mike
"Hi - I have a reservation for Mr Eightblack"
"Actually you have 2" Mike says with a smug
"I do?"
"Yes"
"You have an SUV booked and a mini-van"

Mike then looks me up and down and rolls his eyes, as his lips finished saying the words minivan...

"I thought you didn't have any SUV's"
"We don't" he says with emphasis
"So its the minivan then?"
"Yes I suppose" I say rather dejectedly, knowing that if my mates in Australia saw me, they would, in all likelihood, give me a damn good thrashing
"So we have you booked for 2-days at a rate of $165 per day" says Mike rather proudly

I did a double take...

"How much"" I say incredulously
"$165 a day plus taxes and tolls"
"Mike, listen brother, I don't want to buy the thing. I just want to rent it"
"Sir that is the rate on my screen. We cant change it"

Liar - I said to myself under my breath.

At this stage, I was tired and cranky and just wanted to get going. My iPhone was dead so I couldn't pull up my email confirmation with the original rate which was more like $45 a day. I just resigned to fix this when I brought the mini thing back.

I head out to the lot and there is another over excited young man doing the deliveries. He welcomes me to Enterprise and then we start to walk to the people mover.

I casually ask if they have an SUV.

"Yes sir, we do. I can do you a great rate on one if you like" says the pimple faced youth
"What about a pick up truck". That white one, the 4-door one over there" I say pointing to Detroits finest.
"Yes sir. Can do that too"
"How much would the pick up truck be?" I casually ask, knowing that Number One son would be mightily impressed if I showed up in this rig.
"Another $80 a day" snaps the pompous youth youth
"What, on top of the $160+ for the minivan"
"Yes" says boy wonder proudly
"Are you a drug dealer in your spare time. Or is this Enterprise branch part of a Columbian drug ring?"
"Excuse me..."
"Never mind. I'll take the mini thing"

In a mild state of depression, I drive something made by Chrysler, back to the airport, hoping like mad no one would see me. Or laugh.

So we loaded up the van like the Griswalds and set off for our new home. The mini thing sounded like it had angry rats under the hood and when you stepped on the gas - it didn't get any faster. Just louder. But if I'm honest, I kicked it in the guts as hard as I could just to teach it some manners.

As we came up on the exit on I-25, I saw a car dealership. I said "look, there it is. Lets go in there and take a look at the car we want to buy"

The kids moan. My wife showed about as much interest as she does when I tell her…Actually never mind.

And what happened next is why I love America. You walk into the dealership, an over zealous sales person approaches you like you are his best friend and if you want the car he or she is selling, odds are you're driving away in the thing in 2 hours or less. Even if you don't want it - you'll probably end up with it. You sign. And then you drive. I still cant believe this is how it works.

In Australia when you buy a car, the car is never in stock. You virtually have to hand over your 3rd born child, the credit check is the equivalent to someone crawling up your bum with a toilet brush and you might wait weeks to months before you hear from them again.

But in America. In America, auto dealers know you might go somewhere else.

To make it even more of a challenge, it was the 1st of the year. New Years Day. I was amazed that they were even open at all. But blow me down, not only were they open, they were determined to sell us a car. And sell us a car they did.

In the end - we took the silly minivan back that afternoon, once we had dumped our luggage. I managed to find the confirmation email and went into the returns office - fully prepared to wave both my arms in protest. But you know what. The man behind the desk was more than helpful, honored the original rate and by the time all the taxes and fees were refunded, I only ended up paying $34 bucks.

Feeling very happy with myself, I decided that we must celebrate with our windfall from Enterprise.

Which is what you must feel like doing, since my recap is almost coming to a close. Surely you have better things to do on a Saturday than read FT, right?

Go shovel some snow. Or visit Home Depot. We're at the bottom of the ninth. See you soon...

Oh gosh, I'm glad the rental worked out for you.

Colorado isn't so bad, we have some pretty awesome trails and out of the way places that make hiking a solitary experience not a line all the way up the mountain. :)

You can't leave us hanging like that!! So what car did you end up getting for the clan?

"Go shovel some snow. Or visit Home Depot."

Welcome back to America! That's exactly where you should be and what you do here in winter!

Great writing!

Eightback your first mistake was to rent from Enterprise, rented once, haven't been back, I like National, love the fact that i can choose any car/mini/SUV I want, in and out in under 5 minutes, with no upsale.

BTW, wonderful report!

Funny that they are owned by the same company! And yea, good report ^

Great read. Enjoy the mountain air!

Brilliant as always Eightblack.

FWIW, there is a Carnegie Deli in Vegas as well and the sandwiches are just as huge.

I'm still amazed that you drove a rental car from the airport directly to an auto dealer and bought a car. I've NEVER heard of that..

... and we still haven't heard what car he bought. or how he FT'ed a good price.

You know, I nearly forgot to talk about this. What with all the pointless drivel about flying the family all over the place, the most important stuff was nearly wallpapered right over. Crikey, what was I thinking.

Status. Both hotel and airline. It is after all, why we're all here.

Candidly, I was in a bit of a mild panic because I was 3-days short of Diamond with Hyatt. And we were already into the twenties from a date range perspective. Month, December. I was so close though I could smell it. It was within easy reach. No way I wasn't going to make it.

Thankfully I had ticked off AA EXP. But that was a friggin' drama in itself. Man, did those AA folks make me earn my ride into their semi elite bosom. Even if I did do the 1K challenge. But I think I already told you about that. Two quick turns on CX - from Colombo to Singapore to Hong Kong to Melbourne. And back again. Nearly killed me.

So thankfully one down. The toughest one. And two to go. One hotel program. And one airline. How hard could it be, right?

I thought Hyatt would be ok. Found a very attractive rate and booked the O'Hare Hyatt for the last 3-days I needed. Bob's your Uncle as we say down under. Job done.

My wife knows that I can't stay in Michigan too long. Sort of like a duck out of water. One bathroom. Limited bedrooms. And 22 people for lunch on Christmas day. Which has its challenges, none of which are actually more important than getting through the day unscathed.

I don't know what happens at your place but if you celebrate Xmas in Australia, you celebrate it in the heat. Which I have never really been able to get my head around. Sort of like having sex with your clothes on. You go through the motions but its just not quite the same. You know what I mean. I know you do.

Truthfully, Australians are hopeless when it comes to Xmas. We've sort of hijacked the tradition of it all. Yes we have ham. And sometimes turkey. And most of the familiar trimmings. But then we've gone all mediterranean on it and the meal now includes seafood. Up the wazoo. Or a whole lot of meat cooked on the grill. Weird old Uncles then sit around in the late afternoon with their hands down their pants. And then comes the obligatory argument between people who only see each other once a year. It's quite bizarre when you think about it.

On Xmas morning in a big city like Melbourne, you see all these frazzled families charging around in their cars, going from one resentful relative to the other, Dad screaming at the kids, Mom screaming at Dad and the kids trying to beat each other senseless with their stocking stuffers. On top of it all, it doesn't even feel like Xmas because you're doing all this in your underwear as its 40 degrees celsius outside. Or 100F for everyone else.

Which is why I've always loved having Xmas in the US. Even if it is in Michigan. One, I love the cold. And lets face facts. You Americans know how to do celebrate this holiday better than most.

The first time I had Xmas in Michigan, we had to drive to my sister in laws. About half way there, I suddenly remembered that we didn't have anything to drink. As in the hard stuff. So we stop at a gas station and I walk inside...

"Can I have 3 cases of Heineken?" I politely ask the girl behind the 3-inch thick plexiglass window
"No sir" came the emphatic reponse
"But it's right there. In the fridge. And you have cases of it stacked up on the floor…" I respond with more than a hint of concern in my voice
"I know that"
"So why cant I buy it?" I say, almost pleading now with the rotund attendant
"State law. Cant sell it today" she snaps
"See those shotgun shells over there" I say, pointing to the stack of ammo on the floor, beside another stack of beef jerky.
"Yes sir.."
"Can I buy those?"
"Of course"
"How much can I buy?"
"As much as you want" the woman says proudly
"And that RPG rocket launcher and small bazooka, can I buy them?"
"Yep, makes sense. It is Xmas after all. They make perfect gifts"
"So what you're telling me is I can buy enough stuff to invade Illinois but I cant buy alcohol?"
"Nope"
"Not even for a desperate Australian"
"That's probably why the law was invented"

Dejected, I walk outside, not knowing how I was going to make it through the rest of the day without my beloved green tea. You can be sure I have never ever made that mistake again. Now when we have Xmas at The Big One's, I rent a u-haul the day before and load up at Meijers, the local supermarket.

Anyway, where were we?

Right, status. Hyatt Diamond. The O'Hare property.

So - as I said, I can only tolerate staying in Michigan for a short time. I was given permission to go visit good friends in Omaha. As in Nebraska. Which is where we used to live. And where Number One son was born. So I find some flights on AA which leave out of Flint, via O'Hare and I hoof it on over to corn country for 3 days of R&R. They are wonderful friends. Lovely home. Big Drinkers. And great cooks. What more could a simple man like me want. It was all right there...

My plan was this. I had a 3 hour layover in ORD on my way over. Perfect I said to myself. Would leave the airport, catch the Hyatt shuttle. Check into the hotel. Throw the key in the bin. And then head back to the airport and jump on the flight to Omaha. Wouldn't need to check out again as Hyatt have this clever web check out process now. It was my first real mattress run. I had finally popped another travel related cherry. So to speak.

But as with all grand but simple travel plans, things went a bit pear shaped. Maybe that just happens to me. First off, it was Fri the 21st of December. Busy was an understatement. Easy enough process to get to the Hyatt. Checking in a breeze also. Even made room for a coffee and something to eat in the Club Lounge on the ground floor. Kept telling myself I had stacks of time. But there was this little niggling feeling at the back of my mind. You know the one that says "are you sure you really want to leave a safe and sterile area..?"

Then I panicked. Checked my watch again and thought, man, I might be cutting it a bit fine. But I kept telling myself 90-minutes should be plenty to get back to the airport, clear security and calm my nerves with a Bloody Mary before the quick hop to see Uncle Warren. As in Buffet. I wish.

The AA premium TSA lane was about as efficiently managed as the queues at the Department of Motor Vehicles. More importantly it was bedlam. People everywhere. To infinity and beyond. My heart sank.

The place was full of people going to California and Vermont. And everywhere in between. People who traveled once a year. Security was at an all time slow. Not that it has ever been fast. You'd think $8 billion a year would buy you swiss grade efficiency. But apparently not. Lets not dwell shall we.

Mercifully, I made it. But not without some stress.

So time to head back to Michigan and I do the reverse. But this time no exiting The Windy City's airport. Thank god. All the flights worked perfectly. Although AA really do need to do something about the state of those regional puddle jumpers. Dreadful aircraft. My new years resolution is to avoid regional jets of all kinds. I don't care if I have to take 3 steps back to go one step forward.

The next stage was to complete my UA mileage run. Second one ever. From DTW to DXB. With a IAH and IAD in between. Sounds more like a science project doesn't it.

I was around 25 EQM's short of 1K. Time was against me so I needed to do this in one fell swoop. After some quick and dirty math, I found a B fare all the way to the Sand Pit. And the SWU's cleared immediately on the 777 legs. The domestics were those Smisek specials which automatically put you into F. Smoke and mirrors if you ask me, but no upgrade lottery to deal with so I couldn't really complain.

I think I left on the Wed night. Would stay on the ground in DXB for all of 7 hours. Then turn right around and come home on the same plane - after it had made a quick stop in Doha. Which meant leaving on Wed, staying at the airport in DTW Wed night, and then trekking out Thurs morning at o'dark hundred. Meant total trip time was 3-days. Lets call it 40 hours of straight flying. And the rest being groped by airport security personnel. Which at my age, I am not that opposed to. Call me old fashioned. At least someone cared...

As is always the case, I found out later that if I had have bought the ticket all the way to DOH, (instead of DXB) I would have saved $700. Such is life.

So I head off for DTW on Wed afternoon from the sleepy family town in Michigan in yet another Enterprise car. This time a large, white Suburban. Was like driving an aircraft carrier. Pretty well much the same gas mileage as one. It was lightly snowing. Very lovely indeed.

A hint of deja vu came over me. But it was only 80 odd miles. That was nothing. That's like an hour and a half. At the most. Along major interstates. And I was in a car which weighed as much a house.

So off I went. And then I didn't.

The snow turned from a light sprinkle to a decent dump. The roads got progressively worse. Cars and their hapless occupants were starting to find themselves up close and personal with the ditch. Facing the wrong way. Vision was also an issue.

As I got closer and closer to Detroit Airport, I got farther and farther away. If you know what I mean. I was down to a snails pace. But you know what, I didn't really care. I mean, I wasn't going to be late given that I was staying at the airport Westin for the night. I had learned my lesson from my New York fiasco. Even packed a coat and some gloves. And if traction becomes an issue, you simply push hard on the loud pedal and the Suburban responds like a faithful, overweight husky.

Guess how long it took me to get to Wayne County Airport? Just guess.

Four flaming' hours. I was fit to be tied. The airport was 6-inches deep in snow, which didn't seem to bother the shuttle bus drivers or cabbies as they whizzed past with their terrified occupants clinging for dear life.

I dump the rental. Catch the shuttle back to the hotel. Remind myself to book DL if I am flying out of Detroit and staying at the Westin as the hotel is right above (or beside) the DL areas. And then I head to the bar, where its 6 people deep. Mainly full of Canadians who had missed a flight to somewhere warm. And holiday revelers who had miscalculated the effect of the 8th martini. But you know what, it was a great atmosphere and I spent the night talking to a guy called Jeff who had worked for DL for 34 years as some sort of inspector. In the end, I think he got paid a lot to walk around with a flashlight yelling at people and writing things on a clipboard.

I didn't have the courage to tell my new best drinking buddy where I was going over the next 3 days or in fact, what I was actually doing. I don't think he would have even believed me if I had tried. I mean, come on. Would anyone except for a faithful FT'er…

Thankfully I was saved by the bell. In this case, the bell being a very attractive Canadian lady whose plastic surgeon did a magnificent job. Jeff and I had to concentrate to save ourselves from falling off the bar stools. There was no where to look. Up. Down. Left or right. It was useless. We were useless. The buxom cougar had infected our pathetic male brains.

So where was I? I forget. Actually no I don't. Reality soon set in and Jeff had to leave as he was due at work at sparrows. I had to get up early. More importantly, and for some strange reason, those damn Hyatt nights hadn't posted and when I called Gold Passport, some cranky young thing told me that because I had used a rate which was practically an insult to her and her family, I was going to be credited with exactly squat. Diddly to be precise.

This was going to be close...

I am so glad I found this thread, you are endlessly engaging. Can't wait for the next installment.

Welcome to my native state of Colorado!! Thoroughly enjoy these trip reports, they keep me in stitches, and I'm only 200 miles west of the Big "O".

The interesting thing about Enterprise really is, it came to the airport rental late, they were/are big in auto replacement for car dealerships and such... National is ran much better for the frequent traveler..

As a Belgian I take offence somewhat to the fact you drink Heineken. We have so many excellent beers (for the record, Stella is not one of them, unless you live in Leuven) that make Heineken look like cat piss.

Other than that, great report and did you end up buying a Pepe?

Very first time to read your TR, and now i am speechless.
I have to dig up your previous TR, and may suffer from sleepless night for the consequence. It's your fault!!!

You can very nearly substitute US 4th of July celebration to relieve any homesickness for the Australian Christmas. The kids will be throwing live explosives at one another in lieu of sock beatings. And possibly at you.

Someone asked me why I wanted to live in the US. It's easy. I love the place. Always have. I'll give you an example.

You can walk into any Home Depot or Lowes, head for the section where they sell ride on mowers and you can have a serious conversation with an intelligent male.

"How big a engine can I fit into this John Deere tractor" you casually ask
"Sir it comes with a 24 HP gas engine" the man replies
"Can I get it any bigger?"
"Of course"
"Does it come in 4WD?"
"Yes of course"
"Can I fit a large snow blade to the thing?"
"Yes indeed"
"Is there a likelihood that small children or annoying pets might get sucked up under the mower deck?"
"Most certainly"
"How many cup holders does it have?"
"16" comes the reply

And that is precisely why this country is great. There is no such thing as too big. Sod being politically correct. I'm tired of it.

The guy from Home Depot is not going to bat an eyelid because you want to buy a ride on mower which could pull a house off its foundations. The guy from the local Ford dealer isn't going to report you to a group of angry women with short haircuts because you want a pickup truck that uses more gas than the whole of Ecuador.

The contractor who is finishing your basement isn't going to care less at the fact that you want to install a 80 foot large cinema screen, build a wet bar with a Hooters feel or install 15 air con units, because you don't like waiting more than 5 minutes for your house to get cool in summer.

Even units of measurement sound better. You use gallons instead of silly litres. Miles instead of kilometers. And a 16 oz steak means you aint' walking away hungry. You don't walk into a restaurant and say - could I please have a 453 gram piece of ribeye, medium rare with a side of steamed alfalfa sprouts. And a dash of couscous.

No you say "I'll have the 22 oz Hired Hand cut, a one pound loaded baked potato - (which could effectively choke a horse) and if I see anything green or steamed on the plate, I'm going to open a big can of whoop arse on someone" And I'll have a beer in a 52 oz glass.

And if you order a mixed drink at a bar, the bar tender is going to pour you a drink which you most certainly will feel the effect of rather than putting on his health and safety vest, getting out his measuring thimble and making you a drink which wouldn't affect a chihuahua with a liver disease.

Or something like this.

I go to Europe a lot and I see all these silly people driving around in little diesel cars built in some obscure country. Like France. Ok they might sip fuel like a miser. But they are about as exciting to drive as opting out of a TSA security check point.

And there's the range of stuff. From supermarkets. To trash collection. People want your business. You can buy anything you want and have it shipped to your front door in a matter of days. And if it doesn't arrive, you can wave your arms at either the Fedex or UPS person and you'll likely receive a credit on your next shipment.

When my wife and kids told me they wanted to "go home" it was an easy sell. It really was. And because of FT, I was able to make it happen for cents on the dollar.

It's why I chased status on 2 airlines and a hotel chain right up to the very end. All those fools who don't understand, well, I don't care. Let them be non-believers. Personally, it makes my life easier. As I hope it does for you.

Thanks for reading. And wherever your travels take you in 2013, may the op-up Gods smile down on you, may your room upgrade happen and may your mini-bar be full of complimentary refreshments.

Viva la USA. It's good to be home.

This sums up perfectly what I hate about Europe (mind you, there is plenty to love as well).

signed, a Belgian.

Going Home. Again
 

What a great TR to start the year. Thanks, Eightblack! And welcome back to the USA! If you do find yourself having to take an AE flight, just make sure it's a CR7, the highest-quality of the low-quality RJs.

I can't imagine a better way to start the new year - at least in a literary sense - than with an eightblack trip report. Three of my favorite words in your reports are "See you soon" or “Be back soon”. It should be noted however that rather than read your posts incrementally, I like to wait until the entire report has been submitted, after which I print it up to read in its entirety later on. The wait ain't easy, but at least those three words mean that I’m going to have even more to enjoy when I finally do set down to enjoy your latest effort.

Thank you for yet another wonderfully humorous and insightful tale. I hope you and your family get many opportunities to enjoy Colorado's many natural pleasures in the coming year(s).

I think you know you have made it as far as Trip Reports go when FT'ers such as Seat 2A and SFO777 respond to your tales. In my case - drivel.

One day, I am going to put the effort into actually writing one of these, rather than banging away at it at our coffee table, kids screaming in the background, and wife asking me why I put Tide into the clothes dryer (you know, those machines, they look the same to me)

I am very grateful for your comments Seat 2A, I really am. And I am enjoying Colorado. I went to a liquor store today called Daveco, which would have to have the most spectacular selection of foreign and local beers I have ever seen...:)