My little sister has somehow inherited my dad's bad travel luck. It never fails. Whether her car blows up and she ends up hitchhiking on the Interstate or her Rugby team gets pulled over on suspicion of drug trafficking, something always happens.
So part of me wasn't surprised to see the subject in an email from my mom: "Amanda missed her flight." We were to arrive about the same time in Tokyo and meet up at the hotel Saturday.
The reason that Amanda missed the plane was because she had forgotten her passport. And by that, I don't mean left it on the kitchen table. It hadn't even made the list of things to bring when she was packing. It just so happens that she is in the process of moving to a new place, so all her things are packed up in storage. She had to call a cab (she had taken a taxi to the airport) then rifle through her boxes. She made it back to the airport just in time, but security wouldn't let her through.
After some scrambling, pleading and begging, she made it on a flight the next day. But that one was cancelled because the plane had hit a bird upon landing. The flight she arrived on was delayed because of birds on the runway. They actually landed and took off again.
As if to add insult to injury, the beautiful warm weather turned cold and rainy today.
I'm just glad she made it at all. I thought for sure her plane would get hit by a mile-high tsunami or would spontaneously combust.
Lesson learned: If Amanda wasn't such a good travel partner, I should find a new one. It could save my life.
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