It was 2004, a year after the bird flu had decimated China tourism, and I came across a phenomenal price for a two week trip to China. G was deployed in the military, but I already had another travel buddy at the ready.
I first met Sheila on a cruise in 2000 and…well, I should hold off on that story. It looks like Sheila will be joining me on an Antarctica expedition cruise, so there will be plenty of opportunity to go into our backstory. I’ll just say that no one in the world makes me laugh like Sheila does, and when we talk on the phone, it always takes hours and G ends up bringing me a battery backup for my phone, just because he knows I’ll need it. Oh, and by the time we went to China, we’d already cruised South America together three times, danced at Carnaval until the sun came up, and then, later that year, went to the South Pacific, New Zealand and Australia. Sheila is travel buddy gold, and an even better friend.
This trip was two weeks of escorted travel in China, from Beijing to Shanghai, with intra-country flights and nights in several cities included. I was flying first to LA, and then onto Beijing on Air China. Sheila lived on the east coast, and was taking the train to JFK, and then a flight to Beijing. Everything was good until my first airline (I *think* it was on American, but I’m not sure) changed my flight times, and I wasn’t comfortable with the amount of time I’d have to make the international connection at LAX. Luckily, there was an earlier flight which made for a very early morning and some extra time in LA. I was re-booked on that one.
I was quite proud of myself, and fit everything I needed for two weeks into a roll aboard and small backpack (not checking luggage and having to collect it and recheck it in LA saved me). It’s funny how some things about that trip (how did I get to the airport?) are lost to history, while other memories are front and center more than 20 years later. I was walking down the jet bridge onto my first flight when I realized I was crunching on something in my mouth. This was not good. I was leaving so early that I hadn’t even had coffee yet and certainly hadn’t eaten anything crunchy. I had, however, packed my night guards the night before, not wanting to forget them in the morning. Big mistake. I should have known better. Teeth grinding is my downfall.
.
I stowed my roll aboard and immediately headed back to the bathroom on the plane, where one look in the mirror confirmed that I had broken a tooth. My mind was racing. What to do, what to do? Should I get off that plane, get that tooth fixed at home and then fly out the next day? I would miss a day of sightseeing in Beijing, including climbing the Great Wall, which I didn’t want to do. But I wanted even less to have dental work, including a possible root canal, done in China.
I’m sure I had a “deer in the headlights” look on my face as I walked back to my seat. Fortunately, the plane was only about 25% full, and the flight attendant asked me if everything was ok. Remembering that I had seen a sign for a dentist at Heathrow, I wondered aloud if there was a dentist at LAX. The FAs asked each other, and then phoned the pilots. No one recalled seeing one, but they suggested I contact Travelers Aid at LAX as soon as we landed.
I decided to stay on the plane, fly to LA, get the tooth fixed there and, worst case, not board a flight to Beijing until the next day. In fact, I was fully prepared for that to be what happened. But with that little extra time I had between connections, maybe it was possible to get this looked at?
Disembarking was quick as the plane was so empty and I ran through LAX, following the signs for Travelers Aid. When I got there, an elderly volunteer was manning the desk and I asked her for a dental contact. And here I must be kind, but, hand to heart, she reminded me of nothing more than Tim Conway doing his little old man impression as she reached for a Rolodex, slid it in front of her and started going through the cards, slowly, one at a time for what seemed an hour before- voila!- she found the card for dental services and handed it to me.
I wasted no time dialing the phone number on the card, which was for a dental association, but, because it was so early, it was not yet open. Frantic, I tried again and then again and it must have just opened and my call finally went through. I was pushing buttons on the phone tree until I was asked to put in my zip code, and here I turned again to my volunteer friend, and asked what the zip code at LAX was. And here she again pulled the Rolodex back in front of her and began going through the cards, one at a time until she found the magic information.
Armed with the zip code, I was able to get the number of a nearby dentist, and called his office. It was just minutes after 9am, but thankfully a real person answered the phone. It was obvious that they did this kind of thing all the time, because I was asked for my connection departure time and if I had my luggage or needed to go through customs and immigration, and when I told them I had arrived domestically, so no immigration and had just a roll aboard, they said to come right over and they’d see me.
If I thought I was having a bad day, the taxi driver who had waited an hour in the pick up line only to get a $10 fare was really out of sorts, and I felt quite guilty, but gave him a $40 tip which left him amenable enough to hand me his company card with a phone number for when I needed a return ride.
Luckily, the dentist was able to fashion a fix without having to do anything too time consuming, and he told me it would get me through the next two weeks but probably not longer. He was still gluing things in place when he told me to call the taxi company for a pick up, but when I was asked my address and didn’t know what it was, the dentist tucked my phone under his chin to give dispatch the information himself while he continued to have his fingers in my mouth.
I was dropped off at the Tom Bradley terminal in a daze. I could have sworn the whole thing was a dream but for the fact that one side of my mouth was still completely numb. And none of that would have been possible if I hadn’t booked an earlier flight.
11.5 hours later I landed in Beijing. Sheila’s flight was landing an hour later, and, like me, she would be greeted and taken to the hotel we were staying at, so I headed over to the hotel with my arrival group. This hotel was extremely upscale. Beijing was already experiencing a building boom in preparation for the 2008 Olympics, and it was obvious that this hotel was brand new. Even better, Sheila and I were sharing a two story, two bedroom suite. It took a minute to figure out that I had to put my room key in a slot to turn on the lights, and I sure wish I had also realized that I needed to leave it there. But I took it out, set it on a table, and went to explore the suite.
I immediately walked up a curved staircase with hardwood floors to the second level, and remember thinking that I needed to be really careful, because they were just partial stairs, and very slippery and would be so easy to fall on. I couldn’t believe the size and opulence of the two bedrooms. They each had multi room bathrooms and massive dressing rooms and walk-in closets and, well, I was deep into exploring one of those closets when every light in the suite went out and I was left in complete darkness.
I gingerly felt my way along the walls of multiple little rooms I’d only just seen for the first time until I reached the top of those stairs and here I was sure I was going to die. I sat right down (not easy to do on curving stairs) and made my way down one step at a time until I reached the bottom. I couldn’t find my room card or the slot (it was pitch dark) but I had enough sense to open the door to the corridor and enough light came in to locate both.
There’s absolutely nothing in the world like travel.
