TarJak
10-17-08, 09:22 PM
I will post only my version of Grey Wolves eventful arrival in Houston. I will leave it to the others involved to decide whether or not to post their own versions and the reader to determine the truth of the matter on their own…
A few months prior to travelling to Houston, Jimbuna, Privateer(Jeff), Kpt. Lehmann and I agreed that we would meet up at the Subsim meet, share digs and associated transport and drinking costs whilst in Houston. As meet got closer PM e-mails and TS sessions got more frequent as we went about making sure we all knew where we were going to be when and how we would meet up and sort out where we would stay etc.
Things were thrown into minor disarray with Hurricane Ike damaging our accommodation and we scrambled to locate a suitable alternative. This done we excitedly waited for the day we could finally meet one another in person, to my knowledge, the first time any of the Grey Wolves were to meet face to face.
Jimbuna and I had some distance to travel, Jim hailing from Newcastle on Tyne in the UK and myself being a Sydneysider from Australia. Jim needed to get from his home town to London to catch his connection to Houston, whilst I had a 12 hour haul to San Francisco before the relatively short hop (3.5 hours) to Houston which would have me arriving about an hour later than Jim. Privateer was driving down to Houston from Ohio and Kpt. Lehmann would arrive the following day from Northern Texas.
The original plan was for Jeff to arrive in time for Jim’s arrival , they would wait at the airport for me and then we would all head to our accommodation to check in before heading to Neal’s to say hi to anyone else who had arrived that day.
Being on a plane and out of touch for 12 hours and knowing that Jim’s flight would still be in the air, I rang Privateer to let him know I’d made it to SFO and was in the process of transferring to my Houston flight. He was on schedule and said no problems he would be there for the pick up, so I was quite relieved and calm when I got aboard and started on my final leg.
I got to see the Rockies (still snow capped in places), and the Grand Canyon on the way over which was quite cool. My last trips over these landmarks were either at night or with enough cloud cover that I couldn’t see anything of interest, but this day was crystal clear and sunny so the view was spectacular from 38,000 feet.
Our plane landed safely and with only a minor delay whilst we waited for another plane to vacate our boarding gate, I got my phone working and called Jim to see if he’d arrived and hooked up with Jeff yet.
“I’m in a limo on my way to the hotel” Jim replied after the pleasantries were over.
“What???” I said by now extremely puzzled but thinking he may have been joking about the size of Jeff’s car or something.
“Hang on mate” Jim said and I could hear some muffled conversation on Jim’s end just before the line went dead. One of us had obviously hit a dead zone where mobile telephony could not reach for some reason or another.
I was by now on my way to pick up my bag from the carousel about a mile away from the gate our plane disgorged us at. I tried Jeff’s phone but it was obviously me in the dead zone so I kept walking and trying to dial both Jim and Jeff to find out what was happening.
I finally made it to where my phone could send and receive signals and got Jeff. “Have you seen Jim yet?”
“No, I’m still waiting for him at the arrival hall in Terminal E.”
“Oh, OK, he said something about being in a limo on the way to the hotel” says I think I was either part of a strange TV show that winds up international travellers or an episode of Seinfeld.
“WTF?” say Privateer obviously thinking something similar. “Well I’ve been here for over an hour and haven’t seen him yet!”
“OK I’ll try to call him when I get my bag, you call him and see if you can find out where he is.” I says in reply.
I concentrated on identifying my bag, not the only black suitcase with wheels on the bottom and a telescopic handle so you could drag it behind you as you walked and having successfully retrieved it from the carousel I rang Jeff back to find out where they were as Jim’s phone still would not answer.
“Have you found him yet?”
“Yeah he’s here now. He just stepped out of a white limo outside Terminal E.”
“OK stay there and I’ll come to you then.”
I think that whoever designed the signage in the baggage hall in Terminal C at George Bush Intercontinental Airport needs to be shot or rewarded. This depends on the purpose of the signs. They are either their to assist people in navigating the airport or to confuse potential terrorists and prevent them from getting to where they need to be planting bombs or something. The sign at the top of the escalators points down to go to Terminal E. The sign at the bottom of the same set of escalators points up to go to Terminal E. A quick interrogation of a friendly native told me that down was the correct option although her direction to turn right at the bottom was clearly part of the plan to foil terrorists. The correct direction was left.
Having successfully navigated my way into the arrivals hall of the right terminal I looked about for my compatriots and was not at all surprised to find them not bloody in there, but outside having a smoke. Something that they would continue to do throughout our stay in Houston. (At least it made them easier to find).
After greeting one another and Jeff introducing me to his lovely wife Nancy, I asked Jim where the **** he’d gotten to.
His explanation went very much like this: (sorry but I can’t write with a Geordie accent);
“Well I’ve got bad eyesight and there was this guy with a sign that I though said Grey Wolves so I went up to him and he ushered me to this limo, I though Jeff had sorted it out as a wind up and so I got in. I was a bit worried when the doors all locked but I was relieved that he had left the window between the driver and the rear of the limo open. I told him I was supposed to be meeting someone else, but the driver said that was all sorted and he (meaning TarJak), was being picked up separately and taken to the hotel. Which hotel? I asked. The Intercontinental the driver says. I think you’ve got the wrong bloke I says. And that was when you rang.”
By this time Jeff, Nancy and I were rolling about on the pavement outside the airport splitting our sides with laughter. “So you hijacked some blokes limo?” I said
“Yeah I crawled up to the window and asked the driver for the sign and this time wearing my glasses read it was addressed to a Mr. Wolfrang! and told him to turn around. I was worried mind that he was just going to dump me where I was.”
“I’ll be he was happy when his car arrived back at the airport”
“I dunno I didn’t see him when I got out.”
And that is how Jimbuna hijacked a limo from Houston airport.
A few months prior to travelling to Houston, Jimbuna, Privateer(Jeff), Kpt. Lehmann and I agreed that we would meet up at the Subsim meet, share digs and associated transport and drinking costs whilst in Houston. As meet got closer PM e-mails and TS sessions got more frequent as we went about making sure we all knew where we were going to be when and how we would meet up and sort out where we would stay etc.
Things were thrown into minor disarray with Hurricane Ike damaging our accommodation and we scrambled to locate a suitable alternative. This done we excitedly waited for the day we could finally meet one another in person, to my knowledge, the first time any of the Grey Wolves were to meet face to face.
Jimbuna and I had some distance to travel, Jim hailing from Newcastle on Tyne in the UK and myself being a Sydneysider from Australia. Jim needed to get from his home town to London to catch his connection to Houston, whilst I had a 12 hour haul to San Francisco before the relatively short hop (3.5 hours) to Houston which would have me arriving about an hour later than Jim. Privateer was driving down to Houston from Ohio and Kpt. Lehmann would arrive the following day from Northern Texas.
The original plan was for Jeff to arrive in time for Jim’s arrival , they would wait at the airport for me and then we would all head to our accommodation to check in before heading to Neal’s to say hi to anyone else who had arrived that day.
Being on a plane and out of touch for 12 hours and knowing that Jim’s flight would still be in the air, I rang Privateer to let him know I’d made it to SFO and was in the process of transferring to my Houston flight. He was on schedule and said no problems he would be there for the pick up, so I was quite relieved and calm when I got aboard and started on my final leg.
I got to see the Rockies (still snow capped in places), and the Grand Canyon on the way over which was quite cool. My last trips over these landmarks were either at night or with enough cloud cover that I couldn’t see anything of interest, but this day was crystal clear and sunny so the view was spectacular from 38,000 feet.
Our plane landed safely and with only a minor delay whilst we waited for another plane to vacate our boarding gate, I got my phone working and called Jim to see if he’d arrived and hooked up with Jeff yet.
“I’m in a limo on my way to the hotel” Jim replied after the pleasantries were over.
“What???” I said by now extremely puzzled but thinking he may have been joking about the size of Jeff’s car or something.
“Hang on mate” Jim said and I could hear some muffled conversation on Jim’s end just before the line went dead. One of us had obviously hit a dead zone where mobile telephony could not reach for some reason or another.
I was by now on my way to pick up my bag from the carousel about a mile away from the gate our plane disgorged us at. I tried Jeff’s phone but it was obviously me in the dead zone so I kept walking and trying to dial both Jim and Jeff to find out what was happening.
I finally made it to where my phone could send and receive signals and got Jeff. “Have you seen Jim yet?”
“No, I’m still waiting for him at the arrival hall in Terminal E.”
“Oh, OK, he said something about being in a limo on the way to the hotel” says I think I was either part of a strange TV show that winds up international travellers or an episode of Seinfeld.
“WTF?” say Privateer obviously thinking something similar. “Well I’ve been here for over an hour and haven’t seen him yet!”
“OK I’ll try to call him when I get my bag, you call him and see if you can find out where he is.” I says in reply.
I concentrated on identifying my bag, not the only black suitcase with wheels on the bottom and a telescopic handle so you could drag it behind you as you walked and having successfully retrieved it from the carousel I rang Jeff back to find out where they were as Jim’s phone still would not answer.
“Have you found him yet?”
“Yeah he’s here now. He just stepped out of a white limo outside Terminal E.”
“OK stay there and I’ll come to you then.”
I think that whoever designed the signage in the baggage hall in Terminal C at George Bush Intercontinental Airport needs to be shot or rewarded. This depends on the purpose of the signs. They are either their to assist people in navigating the airport or to confuse potential terrorists and prevent them from getting to where they need to be planting bombs or something. The sign at the top of the escalators points down to go to Terminal E. The sign at the bottom of the same set of escalators points up to go to Terminal E. A quick interrogation of a friendly native told me that down was the correct option although her direction to turn right at the bottom was clearly part of the plan to foil terrorists. The correct direction was left.
Having successfully navigated my way into the arrivals hall of the right terminal I looked about for my compatriots and was not at all surprised to find them not bloody in there, but outside having a smoke. Something that they would continue to do throughout our stay in Houston. (At least it made them easier to find).
After greeting one another and Jeff introducing me to his lovely wife Nancy, I asked Jim where the **** he’d gotten to.
His explanation went very much like this: (sorry but I can’t write with a Geordie accent);
“Well I’ve got bad eyesight and there was this guy with a sign that I though said Grey Wolves so I went up to him and he ushered me to this limo, I though Jeff had sorted it out as a wind up and so I got in. I was a bit worried when the doors all locked but I was relieved that he had left the window between the driver and the rear of the limo open. I told him I was supposed to be meeting someone else, but the driver said that was all sorted and he (meaning TarJak), was being picked up separately and taken to the hotel. Which hotel? I asked. The Intercontinental the driver says. I think you’ve got the wrong bloke I says. And that was when you rang.”
By this time Jeff, Nancy and I were rolling about on the pavement outside the airport splitting our sides with laughter. “So you hijacked some blokes limo?” I said
“Yeah I crawled up to the window and asked the driver for the sign and this time wearing my glasses read it was addressed to a Mr. Wolfrang! and told him to turn around. I was worried mind that he was just going to dump me where I was.”
“I’ll be he was happy when his car arrived back at the airport”
“I dunno I didn’t see him when I got out.”
And that is how Jimbuna hijacked a limo from Houston airport.