Solo Trip - 5 Airplane Exit

When I got off the plane, everything happened so fast. I walked out of the tunnel and looked around at the unfamiliar surrounds. Faces I didn’t know. The faces were hoping to see their children, grandchildren, husbands, or wives. I didn’t recognize a soul. I was alone in Denver, Colorado and didn’t know anyone for hundreds and hundreds of miles. UNREAL.

The space was vast and chaotic. People standing around, and others were moving in all directions trying to get to their gate. It was so surreal that I can really only remember the experience in black and white. I felt as though a movie was on TV and I was a viewer. I had to remind myself to pick up my feet and move. This is real life. Instead of appearing confused, I followed the crowd with my camera bag, backpack, and cross body purse.

We all looked like we knew where we were going. Maybe some did. I, however, approached a new section of the airport which was just as chaotic. Escalators went up on my left. On my right, there were escalators that went down. If I went forward, it looked like a never ending corridor to nowhere, or everywhere, depending on how you want to see it. 

I walked over to the middle of this giant room with a chasm in the middle and there was a map, similar to those you’d find in a mall. It might as well been written in Japanese, because the 3 of us who were standing there made different confused gestures. Mine was resolve.

My next move, and my bags were getting heavy, took me closer to the down escalators. I really only walked over there to look at everyone’s face. ‘Do they know where they’re going?’ was my thought. I searched faces for some sign of knowledge.

This is where I get goosebumps when I think back on it…

Seemingly out of nowhere, a lady in the crowd had a friendly face. She smiled at me.

“Do we go down to get our luggage? I’m not sure how to find baggage claim.” That’s what I asked her, conjuring my best attempt at composure.

She stopped and explained some sort of gibberish about, ‘go here, go there, tuck, roll, do a cartwheel, and it’ll be on your left’. I know she saw the slump in my shoulders because she smiled again and said, “I’ll help you. Follow me.”

We proceeded down the escalator, to the next floor. Now we were in some sort of alternate reality which only compounded my confusion. Luckily, all I had to do was follow.

At this juncture, we had to get on a tram that would take us to a completely different location. We boarded. There were no seats. We had to hang on to a pole for dear life that a thousand people also touched that day. It zoomed us to a place that magically picked up more people. This was called “2”. Apparently, I was “3”. Now we had one more stop entitled “1” before we made it to yet another building that held all the world’s luggage. (I wondered if this place also stored everyone’s missing socks from the dryer, it was certainly big enough)

This lady and I chatted the entire time. We had a lot in common. Once we arrived in Neverland, she explained where each concourse led to and from. She explained how to read the signs that corresponded with the flight and airline. Turns out, we were on the same plane (Seriously, with all those people in that airport. She was on my flight).

We found the baggage claim area and located ‘Southwest, Indianapolis’. As we waited for our bags, we chatted. She was in Indiana at a friend’s wedding and just returned. I told her my story. We couldn’t believe 1. that we both just came from Indy and were on the same flight and 2. that she was the person I approached. Again, UNREAL.

She found her bag first and patiently waited for me. I spotted mine as it came closer. I lifted it to check 1 of 2 tags. ‘Keaton Jones’. Yep, that’s my bag. Evidently I forgot to take that out and replace it with my info. Honestly, I didn’t even see the second identity tag. Oh, well.

As we walked, the lady received a call from her daughter. Overhearing the conversation, it was apparent that the daughter was running late. The lady asked if she could help with anything else. I told her that I needed to locate the rental car desk because of my reservation. 

We walked to the desk and realized it closed at 5 (Seriously?). Anyway, we found the help desk and I was told I needed to go to the actual car rental company (Again, seriously?).

I almost laughed out loud at all my good luck. My new friend and I walked in the general direction where the lady pointed. 14 miles later, I made it to doors that looked like they led outside (Civilization!).

At another desk, I asked a woman where I’d find the tram to pick up my rental. Depending on the company I rented from was dependent on what lane I had to cut across country to find.

“Go out those doors to lane 4. A tram will be there shortly.” Easy enough (Eye roll)

My friend and I chatted a bit longer. We knew this was the end of our encounter and the fret on my face must have been obvious. She said, “My name is Jill and I’m going to give you my phone number. If you need ANYTHING while you’re in Denver, call or text me.”

I gave her my number and she text me right away. We were fast friends. I told her I’d not bother her if at all possible and she told me not to worry. I could call for anything.

She turned right, and I turned left…

God sent me an angel. Nothing more, nothing less. I would have been in that place for hours if it wasn’t for her, and I’d be frustrated beyond what I already was. Thank you, God. You knew what I needed, when I needed it, and you delivered! I owe it to all of you, who prayed for me and my safety and wellbeing. It worked! God showed up in Jill. I’ll never forget how kind and patient she was with me.

Deep breath…

I half walked, half ran across 4 lanes of traffic (with a suitcase, backpack, purse, and camera bag) to catch the tram that just arrived (I wasn’t going to stand there and wait for the next one, if there was a next one). Of course it was full. I had to stand, again, while this crazy tram driver, speed racer, made it out of the airport to the rental car company in record time. I think he beat his PR.

Now, I had to drag all my crap into this place to get my car. I got out last, because everyone thinks that the person closest to the door should be last off. Ugh, whatever.

Inside, I had to talk the man behind the counter out of charging me for 10 things I didn’t need, he informed me that the airport charges fees that weren’t included in the price I prepaid (figures…JUST GIVE ME THE KEYS).

I find my car, finally. I load it up and began to GPS my hotel. When I booked it, the internet told me it was 6 miles from the airport. Hahahahaha. “The internet”…

“Here are your directions to The Vintage Resort and Conference Hotel in Winter Park. You’ll arrive at your destination in 1 hour and 38 minutes. WHAT??? 

I thought that maybe google was broken. I cleared my search and started over. Same results.

*Hangs head and yells, “It figures”.

Off I go!

Long story short, my plane arrived in Denver at 5:05 pm. I got to my hotel at 9:30 pm, Denver time (11:30 pm Indiana time), exhausted.

I smiled when I found out I had a surprise waiting on me at the front desk. But I digress…

That’s not even the end…

I get to my room, start to unpack, and hear loud yelling and screams of cheer and joy coming from the next room (must have been a game on). I figure I’ll deal with it. Yeah, 15 minutes later, I’m over it!  I repack the stuff I got out, hauled it back to the elevator then down to the main level.

I explained and they were more than accommodating. The young man gave me a room one floor up, on an end. He assured me that I’d be alone down that hall with no disruptions (SCORE).

Now, we are at the end…