Finally, the big day had arrived, after a 3-year hiatus, long years spent wishing, hoping and waiting for the chance to return, I was once again leaving on a big jet plane headed for a holiday across the pond. Hours of packing, hours of planning, hours of obsessing, hours of........waiting in airports. Ugh.
High on adrenaline despite being hormonal and sleep deprived, I checked in and grabbed a few breakfast tacos before heading to gate 33. I was eager to get to Dallas and spend the day with my friend Cindi before heading to London later that night. After a 20-minute delay everyone boarded the plane and buckled up ready for the short hop to DFW. But then the captain made a fateful announcement, there was an electrical problem on the plane, severe enough that we could not fly until it was fixed. Ah but he had hopeful news, it should only take a few minutes to repair, I'm such a sucker that I believed him. Silly me.
Sure enough, after those "few" minutes were memories the passengers were asked to leave the plane and continue waiting in the terminal. I texted Cindi to warn her of the impending doom and settled in with my book, making fast friends with the other disgruntled passengers. Our updates were frequent but progress was agonizingly slow.
Excuse #1: The mechanic could not reach the defective switch because his hands were too big.
Excuse #2: Due to the mechanic's oversized hands he had to disassemble the jump seat.
Excuse #3: When he finally wrapped his GINORMOUS hands around the relay switch he discovered that he needed 2 switches instead of only 1.
Excuse #4: There were no additional relay switches in San Antonio, AA would have to fly one in on another plane.
Excuse #5: The second relay switch did not fix the problem.
After 4 hours I was thinking that if it took that long to TRY to fix the airplane I had affectionately nicknamed Humpty Dumpty, then I would not be flying on it. And finally the geniuses at AA (they're the cream of the crop I tell you, the best of the best) decided that PERHAPS they could fly us out on the plane that had been sitting empty at the next gate for 2 1/2 hours! Of course, they didn't make that decision until a severe thunder and lightning storm had rolled in and caused a power outage in the airport. I'm sure you can imagine that I was a WEE bit grumpy by this point, and hormonal, did I mention hormonal?
So finally, after almost every passenger had missed connections, and I had missed my chance to see Cindi, we boarded the plane and took off before the weather worsened. The trip was so bumpy that the flight attendants were required to stay seated, no peanuts or drinks for us. Unbelievably, when we finally landed in Dallas we circled the runway until a gate could be located for us, I guess they were fresh out. Then the pilot attempted to park, and I write that with a straight face because the parking system failed, so we had to wait to be towed the last 12 feet to the gate. Hey, at least the brakes worked and we didn't crash through the terminal.....
I settled in for a 5-hour layover and read magazines in between switching gates 3 times before the airline finally decided where we would board. I was nearly involved in a hit and run accident with a man (not a teen) who thought skateboarding in a busy airport was a good idea. Those of us who narrowly avoided a visit to the E.R. strongly disagreed. Oh, and I found a Proactiv vending machine. That's right, we have stooped so low as to sell acne medication in vending machines at airports. Vanity of vanities, all is vanity...
And then, I'm sure you'll never believe this, wait for it.......my flight to London was delayed. Huge shock I know. I almost fell over dead when they made the announcement. What? Delayed? You have GOT to be kidding me? That NEVER happens... What were the excuses? Well, the plane was late being towed from the hangar, I guess the scheduled time fell during the union break. Then we needed catering, bad airplane food must be on board before the unsuspecting passengers. And of course, we had "mechanical problems". Did they REALLY need to tell me that BEFORE I left on a 9-hour flight OVER THE OCEAN? But alas, the flight was uneventful. I watched a bad movie with one earphone, ate terrible lasagna and shifted uncomfortably in my seat all while trying to keep the lady in front of me from sleeping with her head in my lap. Gotta love flying coach!
As I awoke from my miserable slumber my eyes feasted on the greenery of Ireland below me before Scotland and England came into view. Upon landing I made my way through customs and walked what felt like miles of hallways before emerging into the largest airport I've ever seen. Heathrow was like a city and I was completely overwhelmed, thankfully the signs were clear and I easily found the shuttle to Gatwick Airport. Once there I watched the Scottish men parading around in kilts, perhaps there was some kind of convention? At least they were not trying to run me over with their skateboards, because skateboarding Scotsmen in kilts may have sent me over the edge! I did rather enjoy their lovely accents, and I have to admit that each time one of them took the escalator upstairs I tried to sneak a peak to discover if he was wearing his kilt properly....I never did figure that one out. ;-)
Finally, after 5 long hours of waiting I boarded the Easyjet plane bound for Basel and settled in for the short flight. Upon arrival I collected my luggage and tried to remember if I was supposed to exit through the Swiss or French sector of the airport. I chose door number 2 leading to France and was rewarded with Laurie and Emmalee's smiling faces, and in that instant all of my stress melted away and I knew that the past 36 hours had been worth all of the hassle.
High on adrenaline despite being hormonal and sleep deprived, I checked in and grabbed a few breakfast tacos before heading to gate 33. I was eager to get to Dallas and spend the day with my friend Cindi before heading to London later that night. After a 20-minute delay everyone boarded the plane and buckled up ready for the short hop to DFW. But then the captain made a fateful announcement, there was an electrical problem on the plane, severe enough that we could not fly until it was fixed. Ah but he had hopeful news, it should only take a few minutes to repair, I'm such a sucker that I believed him. Silly me.
Sure enough, after those "few" minutes were memories the passengers were asked to leave the plane and continue waiting in the terminal. I texted Cindi to warn her of the impending doom and settled in with my book, making fast friends with the other disgruntled passengers. Our updates were frequent but progress was agonizingly slow.
Excuse #1: The mechanic could not reach the defective switch because his hands were too big.
Excuse #2: Due to the mechanic's oversized hands he had to disassemble the jump seat.
Excuse #3: When he finally wrapped his GINORMOUS hands around the relay switch he discovered that he needed 2 switches instead of only 1.
Excuse #4: There were no additional relay switches in San Antonio, AA would have to fly one in on another plane.
Excuse #5: The second relay switch did not fix the problem.
After 4 hours I was thinking that if it took that long to TRY to fix the airplane I had affectionately nicknamed Humpty Dumpty, then I would not be flying on it. And finally the geniuses at AA (they're the cream of the crop I tell you, the best of the best) decided that PERHAPS they could fly us out on the plane that had been sitting empty at the next gate for 2 1/2 hours! Of course, they didn't make that decision until a severe thunder and lightning storm had rolled in and caused a power outage in the airport. I'm sure you can imagine that I was a WEE bit grumpy by this point, and hormonal, did I mention hormonal?
So finally, after almost every passenger had missed connections, and I had missed my chance to see Cindi, we boarded the plane and took off before the weather worsened. The trip was so bumpy that the flight attendants were required to stay seated, no peanuts or drinks for us. Unbelievably, when we finally landed in Dallas we circled the runway until a gate could be located for us, I guess they were fresh out. Then the pilot attempted to park, and I write that with a straight face because the parking system failed, so we had to wait to be towed the last 12 feet to the gate. Hey, at least the brakes worked and we didn't crash through the terminal.....
I settled in for a 5-hour layover and read magazines in between switching gates 3 times before the airline finally decided where we would board. I was nearly involved in a hit and run accident with a man (not a teen) who thought skateboarding in a busy airport was a good idea. Those of us who narrowly avoided a visit to the E.R. strongly disagreed. Oh, and I found a Proactiv vending machine. That's right, we have stooped so low as to sell acne medication in vending machines at airports. Vanity of vanities, all is vanity...
And then, I'm sure you'll never believe this, wait for it.......my flight to London was delayed. Huge shock I know. I almost fell over dead when they made the announcement. What? Delayed? You have GOT to be kidding me? That NEVER happens... What were the excuses? Well, the plane was late being towed from the hangar, I guess the scheduled time fell during the union break. Then we needed catering, bad airplane food must be on board before the unsuspecting passengers. And of course, we had "mechanical problems". Did they REALLY need to tell me that BEFORE I left on a 9-hour flight OVER THE OCEAN? But alas, the flight was uneventful. I watched a bad movie with one earphone, ate terrible lasagna and shifted uncomfortably in my seat all while trying to keep the lady in front of me from sleeping with her head in my lap. Gotta love flying coach!
As I awoke from my miserable slumber my eyes feasted on the greenery of Ireland below me before Scotland and England came into view. Upon landing I made my way through customs and walked what felt like miles of hallways before emerging into the largest airport I've ever seen. Heathrow was like a city and I was completely overwhelmed, thankfully the signs were clear and I easily found the shuttle to Gatwick Airport. Once there I watched the Scottish men parading around in kilts, perhaps there was some kind of convention? At least they were not trying to run me over with their skateboards, because skateboarding Scotsmen in kilts may have sent me over the edge! I did rather enjoy their lovely accents, and I have to admit that each time one of them took the escalator upstairs I tried to sneak a peak to discover if he was wearing his kilt properly....I never did figure that one out. ;-)
Finally, after 5 long hours of waiting I boarded the Easyjet plane bound for Basel and settled in for the short flight. Upon arrival I collected my luggage and tried to remember if I was supposed to exit through the Swiss or French sector of the airport. I chose door number 2 leading to France and was rewarded with Laurie and Emmalee's smiling faces, and in that instant all of my stress melted away and I knew that the past 36 hours had been worth all of the hassle.
