“That’s great, thank you, Miss.” She smiled as she handed my passport back to me. “Now, can I just see your onward ticket?”
My heart sunk.
“Oh! Yes! My onward ticket… Erm… it’s actually, uh it’s, it’s actually on my laptop”, I lied, “and my, erm, my laptop is out of battery. I, uh, I’m flying to Bangkok, though! In three weeks. I’ll be in The Philippines for three weeks.” I forced a nervous smile to prevent me from crying.
“I’m sorry, Miss. You need to have an onward ticket to board this flight. We can’t let you on the plane unless you can show me proof of your onward travel plans.”
“But, my laptop? I can’t turn it on. What if I can’t find somewhere to charge it?”
“I’m sorry, Miss. We won’t be able to let you on the plane. You need to find a way to charge your laptop.”
“You have 30 minutes,” she interrupted. “Good luck, Miss.”
With a lump in my throat, I jogged past 20 rows of check-in desks, eyes darting around the room, no idea what I was even looking for.
How could you be so stupid?! Why didn’t you buy a ticket? Oh my god, what am I going to do? What do I do? How do I get an onward ticket? What the hell am I going to do?
It was 2am and I was low on energy. An action-packed day spent meeting up with old college friends had rendered my introverted brain exhausted and unable to function. Though I’d been travelling continuously for the past four months, I still hadn’t learned that the airline desks in the departure hall of airports sold flight tickets – though I doubt there’d have been any open at this time. After four months of travel, I still didn’t have enough common sense or life experience to come up with a logical way of buying an onward ticket – not without a power socket and Wi-Fi.
I’d visited ten countries on my travels so far – over half of which had stated you needed proof of onward travel as an entry requirement – and I’d never been asked for an onward ticket. I’d just assumed through experience that it was a rule that was rarely ever enforced – that as long as I kept quiet, was polite and looked innocent I’d never be asked. I assumed The Philippines would be the same as every other country I’d visited so far.
I formulated a plan. I needed to charge my laptop, get online and buy a ticket to anywhere – it didn’t matter where – before the check-in desk closed. I needed to get on that flight.
I sprinted to the nearest help desk, panting out my question; my joy replaced by horror as I learned there wasn’t any free Wi-Fi in the airport.
WhatamIgonnado? WhatamIgonnado? Oh god, WHAT AM I GOING TO DO?!
I had 20 minutes left.
I raced up and down the hall, feet squeaking, heart pounding, back aching from the weight of my backpack. I scanned behind and beneath every chair as I hunted down somewhere – anywhere — to charge my laptop.
I was on the verge of a breakdown when I discovered a power socket hidden away in a dusty, hair-ridden corner of the terminal. Giving myself a secret celebratory high five, I knelt to the ground and waited for my laptop to turn on.
“Comeoncomeoncomeon!” I willed my laptop, cursing the twenty-odd programs I’d left running that now had to re-open before I could do anything.
I opened the list of Wi-Fi networks, nauseated when I saw every single one was password protected and the name of an airline. Where was a Starbucks or a McDonald’s when I needed one?
I had 9% battery life now, surely enough to last me the 12 minutes I had before check-in closed. I unplugged the charger, pulled on my damp-with-sweat backpack – the ice-cold air conditioning having done nothing to keep me cool – and started towards the far end of the departure hall.
I refreshed the list of networks every few seconds, desperate for a name to appear without a padlock next to it.
And there it was.
Yes! There it was! An unsecure network! There was one!
“Connect! Please! Please connect. Please connect. Please connect”, I whispered as I urged the connection icon to change to a checkmark.
“YES!” I screeched, only mildly embarrassed by the echoes of my cry as half the terminal turned to stare in my direction.
I didn’t care. I was connected. I was online. I sat on the floor; backpack on, planning my route back to the check-in desks. I could make it. Maybe I could just about make the flight.
I loaded the Air Asia website. Manila to Bangkok, three weeks from now. By this point I’d be happy to pay $500 for the flights. Fortunately, they were only $50. Great. Confirm.
As the loading icon spun around and around, I opened my email and willed the confirmation email to appear.
Aha! There it was!
I scrambled to my feet – not an easy task when wearing a backpack and a daypack – and took off in the direction of the check-in desk.
Please be open. Please.
“You’re lucky, Miss. We are closing in two minutes, you got here just in time”
I grimaced as I fought to catch my breath, handing her my laptop with the email confirmation on the screen.
“Manila to Bangkok, yes?”
“That’s the one.”
“This says you bought the ticket just two minutes ago?”
I froze. “Yeah. I, um, I couldn’t find my original ticket confirmation anywhere and had to buy a new one. I have no idea where the first one went…”
I felt her eyes on me as I stared at my feet. I didn’t know whether looking up would cause me to laugh, cry or vomit all over the desk.
“Here’s your ticket, Miss Lauren. Have a safe flight.”
I passed through security in a daze, too exhausted to decide how I was feeling. I met back up with the Israeli guys I’d been chatting to before my action-packed race around the airport.
“Whoa, Lauren! You’re here! We thought there was no chance you’d be getting on the plane tonight. Why didn’t you buy an onward ticket?! Didn’t you know you needed one for The Philippines?”
“Yeah, I did… I just kind of assumed I wouldn’t be asked for one. I didn’t know when I was going to leave The Philippines… and I was hoping to extend my visa while I’m there… I didn’t want to buy a flight I might not use.”
“At least I know now,” I continued. “I guess I’ll just buy the cheapest ticket out of a country from now on as proof or something.”
“Either that or don’t arrive at an airport with 30 minutes to spare!”
“Yeah.” I grinned. “That, too.”
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