I said in my last post that as excited as I am to be going to China, I would have 20-some hours on planes and in airports to temper that excitement. Turns out I was wrong: It was well over 20 hours.

We got up at 5 a.m. Friday and headed over to my parents’ place around 6 a.m., where my dad had reserved a van to come take all four of us to the airport. There was just one minor problem: The van never showed. We called the company’s office. No answer. With rush hour nearing and our time shortening before our 9 a.m. flight, we scrambled to get another ride from a different company, and found one good enough to send over an SUV within 25 minutes. We barely stuffed all of our luggage in the SUV and made it to the airport an hour and a half before the flight. That was just enough time to check in and get to our gate in time for boarding to start. As it turned out, we had time to spare. Due to snow in Detroit — where we were picking up a connection to Tokyo — our flight out of Raleigh-Durham International Airport was ordered to sit for about 40 minutes after its scheduled takeoff. At 10:11 a.m., our 9 a.m. flight got in the air.

Although we got to Detroit 40 minutes late, we still had a layover of about an hour before boarding our flight to Tokyo. We passed the time with lunch in a rather mediocre Japanese restaurant that served bland udon, overly salty dumplings, and unspectacular sushi. Then the fun really began.

A view I stared at for almost four hours from my plane in Detroit.

Our plane to Tokyo arrived in Detroit a bit late, pushing boarding back by 15 minutes. In retrospect, I wish they had pushed boarding back by a few hours. After we crammed into our seats aboard the 747-400, strapped ourselves in, and prepared for takeoff, the captain informed us that we would be waiting at least 30 minutes for passengers from connecting flights that haven’t arrived in Detroit due to inclement weather. The 30 minutes turned into an hour, at which point the captain announced that the late-arriving passengers are on board, but we needed to wait for their luggage to be loaded, and the icy airfield made driving the luggage over a more difficult task. But, the captain added, once that’s done, w e just need to de-ice (a 15-20 minute procedure) and we’ll be good to go. No problem, right?

For the next hour or so, the captain basically kept repeating that same message: waiting for luggage, icy airfield, de-icing, liftoff. Finally, just before 4 p.m., the captain proclaimed, “Elvis has left the building! We have the luggage on board and the plane doors are closed.” A male flight attendant strutted up the aisle with his arms swinging in anticipation, while other attendants busied themselves with stocking the supplies for the trip. Finally, we were ready to go. “Elvis has left the building!”

Except … we didn’t leave the building. Twenty minutes later, the captain announced that we were waiting for a push-off crew to push the plane back from the gate to begin de-icing, and then we needed to wait for a de-icing crew because they were busy with other planes. So the wait went on, and I sat in my cramped seat, becoming increasingly incredulous. I mean, this wasn’t some Southern city that panics at the faintest hint of the possibility of near-snow. This was Detroit. Surely they are used to snow. Surely they have a well-practiced contingency plan. Surely it doesn’t take them three hours to get a plane off the ground … I passed off into a half-unconscious stupor as I pondered those thoughts.

When next I woke up, it was past 4:30, and there was a sign of hope: The de-icing crew had arrived and were busy bathing the outer hull in hot water from giant hoses. Finally, 20 minutes later, we moved. WE MOVED! The plane slowly backed away from the gate, and while the wait has been too long for me to feel exhilirated at this development, at least my despair had ceased. WE’RE MOVING.

Or, we were moving for about two minutes. The plane backed up for about 100 yards and then came to a halt and waited to get on the runway, still facing the terminal — not exactly the most optimal direction for takeoff. As I watched service vehicles speed past my window, I contemplated the fact that it has taken us three hours to move 100 yards from the gate. At 5:06, we moved again. This time, the plane lumbered around the runway for the next 22 minutes before it turned onto a straightaway. At 5:28 p.m., our 1:50 p.m. flight departing from Detroit to Tokyo roared down the runway and took to the air.

So long, Detroit, and good riddance!