Saturday, July 28, 2012

50 Hours Seoul-less, OR The Devil Drives a Prado, 15-17 July 2012


I apologize for the underlying anger in this and the end of the last post. I was not happy to have my vacation disturbed and my schedule so hectically reconfigured. But, this is a possibility with my job, and I must get used to it and always be ready for it. Hopefully I won’t have such short notice in the future, but one never knows…

I got to Incheon Airport with not as much time to spare as I thought I would have. I had shopped around, trying to buy a few things I would need if I was screwed over in Krasnoyarsk, and by the time I was in the check-in line, I was one of the last people. Once again, I was cutting things close, but the friendly Koreans made sure I wouldn’t be late. I did get screwed over by the Aeroflot website, whose seat assignment diagram for my flight had the wrong type of aircraft. I picked 12F, which, on this diagram of a narrow-body, was a roomy exit-row. But then, when I boarded the flight, it was an Airbus wide-body, and 12F put me in the middle of the middle sections of seats. And this for a 9-hour flight, when I had my chance to pick! Oy vey!

The plane took awhile to board, and for a long time, right up until they almost closed the doors, it looked like I would have an empty seat next me. But no, it was just a straggler. There were no empty seats on this flight. It seemed that there were a lot of French people on this flight, and sure enough, a lot of them were connecting on the same Air France flight to Paris in Moscow. I stayed in my seat and managed to watch five movies during the flight, unable to sleep. I figured I’d sleep on the red-eye to Krasnoyarsk and then I would have plenty of time on the 20 hour train. I had booked a sleeper cabin.

After we landed in Moscow, I headed to passport control, and for the first time, I had to wait in a line at the non-Russian passport lanes. And they were all moving ridiculously slowly. Apparently this is what happens when you fly here from Asia. Flying from the other direction only gets a flight full of Russians. Each person was taking up to 5 minutes to go through. I hoped that wouldn’t be the case for me, with my multiple entry visa and my work permit proving I’ve been around here a bit. Sure enough, when I finally got to the counter, I went through in under a minute. I wish there was a separate line there for multiple-entry labor visa holders. But that’s probably too much to ask. There was a separate line for Business Class passengers, prompting me to wish I had asked for an upgrade to business class and tried to redeem Delta miles for it.

I retrieved my bag and went to check in for the next flight. I asked the lady at the counter if there were any openings in Business Class (I really want that upgrade), and she promptly told me no, like she knew for this particular flight that there weren’t any without even having to check. How rude! It turns out half of Business Class would be empty on this flight. Where’s my Gold Medallion status when I need it???!!

Just because my bad luck had still not run out, the flight was delayed for an hour. This would guarantee that I wouldn’t have time to get my stuff in Krasnoyarsk. I was livid. I tried to sleep on the flight, but it was difficult. I arrived back in Krasnoyarsk and made a beeline to a taxi driver. To the train station we went. I arrived there with plenty of time to at least get my boarding pass for the train and get all settled properly, and I knew that, had my flight actually been on time, I would have had time to get all my stuff…

When I opened my door to my cabin, there was a family with a little girl sleeping in there. Oh shit, I didn’t want to disturb them. I tried to be quiet and hopped up onto the top bunk that I had booked for myself. That’s when I finally got to sleep. And sleep I did.

The family with the little girl left soon after and was replaced by a father and son. Hours later, they left, and a man named Victor, who worked for the railway company, took their place. By this time it was the late evening. Victor really wanted to talk to someone, so he invited me to share some beers with him, I begrudgingly accepted, despite my still-bad mood. We worked through our language barrier and were able to learn a lot about each other. Then, I insisted to him that I should sleep, and he decided he should sleep too. I heard him talking on his phone later to his sister and he mentioned excitedly how he had met Kyle from America. At least I know when I’m in a bad mood I can still make a positive impression.

When we finally got to Ust-Kut, I was supposed to meet up with another employee at the station, and we would go to the field together. From the station, we went to the Ust-Kut Hotel, where he said we would stay for a few hours. I thought this meant we would get a room for a few hours and get some real rest, but no, we just waited outside the hotel for our ride. Despite it being mid-July and not being all that far north compared to what I’m used to, it was a bit nippy this morning. I had not packed any warm clothes for my trip to Asia, and thus had nothing warm with me. I figured I’d last until the end of August without the need of warm clothing… except for this morning. Eventually a lady arrived in a Toyota Prado and took us to the company’s base, which is in the city, a difference from Vankor, where the base is in the middle of the oilfield. A lot less convenient. At the base, they gave me new PPE, because my normal PPE from Vankor could not get to Krasnoyarsk in time for me to retrieve it. It was nice to have fresh new stuff, but I’m not sure what I’ll do at the end of this shift, when I can get my old PPE back in Krasnoyarsk.

We got back in the Prado to drive to the village of Markovye, from which we would take a helicopter to the field. It turned out to be a 3 hour drive from Ust-Kut on a wild and bumpy dirt road to get to Markovye. Why they wouldn’t just have the helicopters from Ust-Kut to the field and circumvent the driving process was bewildering to me. I’ve never had such an intense drive in my life. The lady didn’t slow down whenever hitting crazy potholes or dips in the road. My body hadn’t felt good for the past couple days and now she was jarring it around like crazy. The area was actually quite scenic, though. We were in the middle of a dense forest with low mountains on either side. Not unlike many drives I’ve taken in Idaho, except for a much wilder road (and Idaho has bigger mountains).  This drive proved the Devil does indeed drive a Prado. We reached Markovye, and it turned out we once again would have to wait multiple hours for other rig crew members to arrive at the “heliport” for us to go. It’s always a diverse and rag-tag-looking bunch that shows up to go to the rigs, and this one, because it was for such a remote location, was even more so.

After an hour on the helicopter, we reached Dulisma Field, and then we had to hop in the standard big-wheeled Kamaz bus to the individual rigs. Of course, once I got on the bus, there were no seats left, so I had to stand in the back, and this was not the kind of ride you want to stand on. I was thrown way off balance several times and luckily the walls and luggage where there to break my fall…

I reached my rig, and I got off alone, the other employee having gone to a different rig. I said smell ya later. Looked at my kingdom, I was finally there…. I wait, this isn’t Bel-Air. 50 hours of travel later, I am in Dulisma. Oy!

Again, sorry I’m so angry. 2 weeks after the fact, I’m doing much better. And now that I’ve finally finished my vacation documentation, the blog will probably be on hiatus for the next month. But if you feel so inclined, please do check back every now and then. You might be surprised…. 

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