In the end it mostly rain but flights were canceled, ferries stopped running, hurricane shutters went up and anyone responsible for boats was scurrying around making sure the storm lines were securely tied. But Erica was partly responsible for one of the strangest experiences in my life.
I got to the terminal in Charlotte Amalie in plenty of time only to find an eerie site, no queues at check in and going through security I was on my own. The security operative powered up the xray machine and my bag was duly scanned. I was waved through to the departure lounge where a few people sat n front of a single attendant. They were swiftly boarded and the attendant chatted with the floor sweeper
then she left me on my own in a vast echoing and entirely deserted terminal.
This was not entirely true there was me and two fellow fliers, but I am pretty sure they did not have tickets. I felt that I was an actor in a scene from some “end of the world” film.
Eventually some one appeared a few minutes before my boarding time and called my name. It turned out that I had the whole aircraft to myself with two flight attendants to look after me. She then proceeded to improvise on the lack of a tannoy, bellowing out the the opening of the gate and immediately called last call for passengers on my flight. All this while digging out a monster umbrella and beckoning me forward. I was ushered on board seated and they wound up the elastic for my private flight to San Juan. “ Je suis un rockstar!”
I am heading up to Orlando to pick up Carol who has been back in the UK sorted out her house purchase
and working for a German Shepherd rescue society.
This is Kaiser who now has a new home.
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