The Most Expensive Triathlon in the World - or - The Prelude to My Cancun 70.3 Race Report

Where do I begin? Oh yeah, the airport.

When passports expire, and your post office "mails in" your renewal, you feel pretty safe that everything gets entered into the computer, right? Of course, doing this does NOT mean anything actually happens. In fact, it may even mean they've changed your name. This is how my adventure to Cancun for the 70.3 with my friend, Stacey began last Thursday.

We had tickets on Viva Aerobus - an inexpensive, direct flight from Austin to Cancun is great. Except when your expired passport that you thought you had taken care of doesn't let you get on the plane. And when you try to find out what happened with your renewal they tell you that your name is "Sarah Jane". No way in hell was Viva Aerobus letting me on that plane. Worse even, no one there could give me any suggestions on how to find out what had happened to my renewal, or where to go, or what I would need if I could get to a passport office. Customs had no idea because apparently, the "man in charge" had been there less than a day and had just transferred from border patrol.

So, as Stacey boarded the plane alone from the South Terminal (did you even know we had a South Terminal??), I went into extreme action booking two different flights to Houston on Southwest and Continental. I called the passport office hotline to ask some questions about the Houston office (the only office in Texas that will issue same-day passports) only to find out it's closed until 9/24 due to Hurricane Ike. "Next nearest office?" I ask. "New Orleans" she replied.

Quick calls to Southwest to cancel my Houston flight & then Continental to check on switching to New Orleans. Another call to the passport office hotline to find out what sort of documents I need and their hours of operation, since no one at the airport can tell me, and I learn that a) you have to book an appointment using a massive phone tree menu, and b) they are only open from 8:00am to 12noon. After timing out of the call tree 3 separate times, from simply choosing invalid menu options or trying to jump ahead in the menus, I give up. I need a breather from this menu, because I'm becoming increasingly frustrated.

A cab from the ABIA South Terminal to the Main Terminal, I learn, is $30. That's how far out of the way it is. FOR THE LOVE OF GOD!!!! Once I get over there, I make my way to the Continental counter to get the skinny on flight options that will get me into New Orleans by 8:00am the next day, and depart after 12noon to Cancun, to coincide with the hours of the passport office there. Once I get that organized, I head on over to the Customs office where two separate officials sit down with me to answer my 20 questions. When I get to New Orleans, what will I need? What forms do I have to fill out? Can you get me a form? Do I need my birth certificate? Do they take credit cards? etc., etc... I make one last stop at the Continental counter to purchase my ticket from Austin to New Orleans (via Houston) and then New Orleans to Cancun (via Houston).

On my first flight to Houston, I'm telling this story to the two ladies seated next to me, and one of them is some sort of new agey therapist or something. She kept talking about moving energy, releasing fear, yada yada. She was very nice, so I was listening to her, and then she pulled out a deck of cards and asked me if I wanted to choose one. I laughed and said that I didn't think I could handle a bad card reading where she tells me I'm going to die or something, and she insists I just pick a card from her deck at random. So I do, and it says: Archangel Michael Blesses Your Travel. Whew! I immediately tucked it inside my bra & she said that was exactly what I was supposed to do with a blessing card. Who knew?

Once I get to Houston, I try to get on an earlier flight to New Orleans so I can find a decent hotel as close to the passport office (365 Canal Street, by the way, in case you ever need it). The gal at the service counter tells me that it will cost $50 to take an earlier flight. So, reluctantly, I hand over my card & then simply in an effort to make small talk I tell her my sad, pitiful passport story, and then she slides my card back. Turns out, she didn't charge me, after all. And then when I board, I realize she has upgraded me to first class!!

When I arrive in New Orleans, I head down to the baggage claim area to the information desk. A woman there gives me a list of all the hotels in the city and I look for one somewhere on Canal Street. I find the Doubletree at 300 Canal Street, make my reservation, then ask about transportation. The woman hooks me up with a roundtrip shuttle, and then asks me where I want it to pick me up on the return trip back to the aiport. I have no idea. I don't know exactly how far away the passport office is from the hotel, and I don't know how long it's going to take to get everything squared away. So, after she asks me a few questions and I continually answer her with, "I don't know." She sort of snaps at me that she needs SOMETHING in order to book the shuttle return. And that's all it took - I just burst into tears. I have managed, after everything that has happened, to keep it together all the way until I arrive in New Orleans, and now I'm standing at the info desk weeping like a baby. As soon as I wipe the tears away, they immediately return to my cheeks. She offers me a Diet Coke, asks me if I need a hug, and then I managed to get it together long enough to get to the hotel.

After I get checked in at the Doubletree, I locate a FedEx-Kinko's to get some passport photos taken. I also realize that the passport office is directly across the street from the Doubletree. Halleluja! Then, with a bit of ease in my step for the first time since 6am, I call Wiley to find a good place to have dinner. With his quick iPhone magic, I'm off to enjoy some gumbo and crab cakes, and a flirty waiter to boot!

I had a terribly restless night thinking I would never get my passport. I was sure they'd have some problem with the name on my old passport being different than what was in the computer system (Sarah Jane) and there would be some lousy and unreasonable policy that I would have a 48-hour waiting period, ultimately causing me to miss the Cancun race. So, with much anxiety, I was at the passport office when the doors opened. Security guard greets me with some questions:

"Do you have a reservation?" Yes.
"Do you have your forms?" Yes.
"Do you have your documents?" Yes.
"Do you have your airline itinerary?" Yes.
"Great! You'll have your passport by 11:30 this morning."

I am not even kidding when I say that I did a dance right there. I even told him that I wanted to kiss him, and he politely replied, "Um, ma'am, that won't be necessary." He wouldn't let me take in my bottle of water, so as I sat there drinking it he asked me where I was from, and we chatted a bit. He was very nice, and when I said I was originally going to go to the passport office in Houston he told me that if that office had been open, they would have never given me my passport on the same day. He said that of all the regional offices, Houston is probably the worst. They enforce unwritten rules, the lines are long, and everyone makes things so difficult. But I have no complaints about the New Orleans office. The staff was expeditious. Everyone was polite, and they even rushed me through to the front of the line when they saw my flight itinerary. People were there from Virginia and Atlanta, all with similar circumstances as me, all trying to get on flights. AND...Good news, Texans! They will be opening a same-day passport office in Dallas sometime in 2009.

Two hours later, with passport in hand, I arrived at the New Orleans airport. When I checked in via kiosk, there was even an earlier flight to Cancun! So, approximately $1500 later, I finally arrived in Cancun. And Stacey and I headed down to the pool for some fruity cocktails and cervesa...