layovers

First stop: Las Vegas. Turns out flights to Rosario are $600 cheaper if you leave from McCarran LAS. We booked SouthWest Wanna Get Aways and found ourselves going through security twice within a matter of two hours. Sadly we missed our chance to see Lionel Richie live in Vegas. The show only runs in the evenings until May 18 and we won't be back before then.

We ate sandwiches from some Mediterranean place and waited for them to call our zone. On board flight 481 AeroMexico, Becca and I had an entire row to ourselves. I leaned against the side of the plane and brought my legs up into the fetal position so I could sleep for a minute (anytime I'm on an airplane I thank my angel Grandma Cooper for passing down the genes that enable me to sleep in almost any position in almost any place at almost any time).

I had let my friend Itan know we'd be stopping in Mexico City and she was at the airport waiting for us. She brought us bottled water (my personal favorite) and took us to eat street tacos. Grilled onions and four tacos al pastor later, we headed back to her house to chat for an hour before we had to catch our next plane. Nine and a half hours later, we landed in São Paulo, Brazil.

Terminal 3 of the Guarulhos International Airport was cold and nearly empty. For the first time since leaving Salt Lake I was glad I was wearing my winter coat. We looked for a place to settle in for the 10 hour layover ahead of us. In the long list of flights, Rosario just said Estimated over and over again. We figured that they hadn't yet decided which gate our flight would leave from.

We each bought Pão de Queijo and something made of potatoes (I think) with chicken salad inside from the Cafe and played two rounds of Rummikub. Becca won the first and I won the second. We then headed over to the waiting area. I was hopeful I'd be able to fall asleep.

The chairs were actually benches zip-tied together with plastic coated arm-rests jutting our every two and a half feet. The faux leather cushions were about 1/2 inch too small to cover the metal sheet that made up the back of the chair. This 1/4 inch thick piece of metal cut nicely into the back of my neck as I propped my legs up on my carry on and tried to take a nap. I think I was successful (judging by the nasty nap-mouth that occurs when I actually fall asleep), but not without a dream about my glasses falling apart. The air inside the terminal mimiced the humidity on the other side of the glass.

Over the afternoon, the list of places people would soon be traveling to continued to rotate over and over on the screen. The terminal filled. I smelled like I'd been wearing the same clothes for too long. The teenagers that worked at the gelato cart used the spoons meant for customers to sample each flavor every five minutes. A little boy mauled his younger brother with hugs and kisses. People carried bags full of cologne and liquor with Duty Free printed on the outside. If the crowd at this airport were an accurate sampling of the world's population, it would be almost entirely made up of adults. With a Portuguese accent, "Your attention please," sounded a lot like, "irritation please."

Two hours before our flight was scheduled to leave, it disappeared from the list on the screens. They moved us to Terminal 2, which was a 10-15 minute walk from where we were. Almost every escalator we passed squeaked with each stair. There were rumble strips on the ground that knocked my luggage over every time we had to cross them. 

The airplane that was to take flight 8185 to Rosario, Argentina finally arrived and we started boarding. They re-assigned me to 13A, an emergency exit row, and gave me instructions in Portuguese. I hoped that I wouldn't need to fulfill the duties that I didn't understand. The three hour flight felt like nothing after we had waited at the terminal all day.

Rosario Islas Malvinas International Airport was tiny. We were the only flight that came in at the time. There was a mix up in the flight times and our manager thought we weren't getting in until noon the next day. We did have his phone number, however, and he was surprised when his phone woke him up at 1:00 in the morning. He got there about 20 minutes later and we talked until we got to our apartment near the center of Rosario. I was glad that I had a knit beanie in my coat pocket. It had been a while since a bed felt so nice.