Nothing could have prepared me for the events that unfolded on April 14, 2010, 13 days before I would board a plane to take me to Denmark. Neither Clean Boys nor I could have possibly known this far in advance, that this crisis, the curse of all curses could dash our plans of a tour straight to hell. I was in the beginning stages of packing my bags, one giant black bag with wheels, my small backpack and my laptop were all that was going with me. I decided; only take what I need this trip out. I’d be gone for nearly a month and also decided to pack light, knowing full well that I would be bringing plenty of trinkets back.
It seemed to be a running joke amongst others who knew me well, that I used to take virtually everything in the world that belonged to me, drag it halfway across America and then bring it all home again, on top of the other stuff I would pick up along the way. So when I told friends of mine that I was going to Denmark, a lot of them asked me if I planned bringing my entire apartment with me!
The morning of April 14 seemed like all the rest; I was lying in bed, listening to CBS News on my clock radio, when the broadcaster at the 7 am (Chicago time) hour, described something treacherous-something downright devastating and I nearly fainted the moment I heard it!
Eyjafjallajokull, an Iceland volcano, dormant for nearly 187 years, blew its top, causing European airspace to be shut down for nearly as long. I knew other things might have stopped me, but a volcano? None of us were prepared for this! Even as airspace was closed during of the first week or so, it affected millions upon millions of travelers around the world, several government agencies and airlines argued over the flight bans.
In the meantime, I kept in constant contact with Pedro and the rest of the crew. People all over asked me if I still had plans to go, now that the volcano had erupted; of course, I said at the time-Pedro was no different and told his fans the same thing---that tour was going ahead, even if it meant touring without me for the first few days or so.
Pedro offered a suggestion or two, such as, if I flew to Paris, he would drive all the way there, pick me up and then head back. Sounds mishegas, I know, but we had little choice in those early hours of the eruption.
In the days that followed, I monitored news reports and my airline, to see if my flight would be cancelled or scheduled as originally stated. As days wore on, European airspace opened up, airlines and European governmental agencies realizing that too much business was being lost and even though there were ash clouds floating all over, business resumed as normal.
We were relieved!
Pedro, as always would say, “We are the curse breakers!” how could I not agree with him this time?
As the hours ticked away on Tuesday, April 27, 2010, I knew I was prepared for just about anything. My bags all packed, my apartment locked, car dropped off a day earlier at a friend’s home, who would “take care of it” for me, while I was roaming around Denmark. As I rode the transit bus that mid-afternoon and headed toward O’Hare Airport in Chicago, I knew anything could happen at any time.
Yet, I also knew this would be greatest adventure I would ever embark upon. After April 27, 2010, nothing would be the same again.
Ever.
And that was indeed a good thing!
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