This morning, at 4:00 a.m., I stared my journey to El Paso. Before leaving for Argentina, I will be spending several days in El Paso for training.
My flights went fairly smoothly, except for one problem. I almost lost my luggage. After landing, I approached the service desk to ask where I pick up my carry-on luggage. (Because of its size, the airliner stored it under the plane with the checked baggage.) The representative said, “It will be transferred to your other flight.” So, I went on my way. At some point during my 3 hour layover, I decided to go back and check. I am by no means an expert on flying, but my carry-on luggage has always been returned after each flight. When approaching the counter the second time, I was greeted with a disgusted look by the representative. She then proceeded to inform me of all the trouble that I have caused by leaving my carry-on bag. I didn’t proceed to telling her how it was really her fault. I just picked up my suitcase and went on.
I arrived in El Paso at 12:15. The plane landed 30 minutes late, so I missed my shuttle. “The unknown” should be the theme for this trip, because very little details were/are provided. I had no clue where my shuttle was suppose to take me. Thankfully, I was approached by two you,young, upbeat personalities that knew who I was. They drove me to the training camp. It is very different in El Paso. Flat lands, and 101 degree weather. Mexico is literally a short walk away.