Psych

Remember how I said I wasn’t coming back? Paradise is only paradise when you want to be there.  When you can’t leave, it becomes something else altogether.

From the beginning I seem to have misread my flight information home. So the Etihad Airlines flight to Abu Dhabi then on to NYC that I thought was leaving at 10:55, was actually landing in Abu Dhabi then. It was leaving Male at 7:20.  By the time I realized my error, I’d already changed my seaplane trip to the 5pm transfer. My flight was scheduled to board at 6:20 (an hour early is excessive, but I would have to have my bags scanned and get through customs.

I tried to be zen waiting for the seaplane. It arrived on time (a rarity in the Maldives) and despite a family of very slow Germans whom I gave the stink eye, had me at the check in window at 6pm. The line to check in was very long with each person approaching the window engaging in an extensive conversation and leaving with their luggage. As my turn approached a man leaving the window looked at me and said “bon chance.”

My flight had been cancelled with no information beyond that available. They would house us over night in a hotel and we’d receive information when we got to our rooms.  The reason was bad weather in Abu Dhabi.  “Can I connect somewhere else?” I queried. Not without buying another ticket.

I followed blindly as an airline representative put my luggage, then me on a boat with an international assortment of disgruntled passengers. We travelled about 45 minutes to another island and were sent to rooms with no more information.

I have no idea where I am or when I’ll be home.

Paradise is feeling a little lost.