I thought that I was done posting on this blog for a little while, at least until my adventures continued in some way. I had no idea that I would have quite the adventure the day after London, as I tried to get home! I always said that I loved airports and traveling in general, and I may have to change my stance on that...No, I still love traveling. I just may be avoiding airports for a little while.
Everything initially started off very well. Dallin and I woke up bright and early so that we could finish packing, clean up the rest of our flat, and check out of FIE. It's funny, because I wasn't incredibly impressed by Queen's Gate Palace, especially as we found ourselves there when they decided to begin construction on everything, but as I was leaving I felt a little sad! Funny how leaving something makes you suddenly realize how good it really was. No worries, I managed to pull myself away and Dallin and I walked to the South Kensington tube station so that we could take the Piccadilly line to Heathrow Airport. It was a little struggle getting there, as the handle on my larger suitcase had broken, so I had to pull my luggage along by the strap meant to tie the two bags together. We made it to the airport with lots of time to spare, even when Dallin got stopped at security since he had forgotten about the toothpaste in his carryon.
The flight went by pretty well. The first half (about four hours) went decently slowly, as I struggled to settle my mind. For reasons unknown I suddenly became restless, but fortunately I calmed down and enjoyed watching The Wolverine and reading a book on my Kindle. The last half went by quite quickly and suddenly we found ourselves back in the states! Customs, which I was scared about, went by very smoothly. The customs officer was actually quite funny. He looked at my customs form and at my ID and got a really scary look on his face. He looks at me and says, very seriously, "Answer me this...." I just sit there for a second and say, "Ok" To which he responds, still very seriously. "You claim to live in Spanish Fork, UT. So, if you live in Spanish Fork, tell me, are there any Spanish Spoons close by?" I think I just sat there for a second with my mouth slightly ajar before he smiles and I manage to laugh. With a welcome home I made my way in!
And then that's when things started to get chaotic.
I was actually quite nervous about getting to my next flight. We had landed in Philadelphia and I had a transfer flight to take me to Dallas less than an hour after we landed. I wasn't initially nervous, but then I discovered that for reasons unknown to me, I would have to check through security again. While managing security lines, I had a lady tell my particular flight that anyone who was making a transfer before a certain time needed to talk to her. I go over and she hands me a new boarding pass that actually had a flight listed for me later that afternoon that would take me straight from Philadelphia to Salt Lake City. I puzzled over it for a while, thinking that maybe they had just upgraded my flight so that I wouldn't have to deal with a double layover. I then discovered that they had also given me a voucher for a hotel room, and suddenly I was feeling confused. I tried to talk to four or five different employees, but no one could really help me. I got a lot of confused faces, which I probably responded to with a confused face of my own. I finally got through security and made my way to my gate to Dallas, about one minute before they started boarding. I asked the lady at the desk about my tickets. She saw my new ticket, which was for a different gate and time, and said (quite condescendingly) "You're at the wrong gate honey." But then I showed her! But really, I showed her....my original ticket. Suddenly humbled and slightly grumpy she replied, "Well use that one then."
Upon further inspection and talking with someone who actually knew what was going on, I found out they gave me the new ticket in case I didn't make my transfer. However, the ticket was actually a STANDBY ticket, and did not actually guarantee that I would have a spot. If I had tried that gate and it didn't work, the next flight out wasn't until the next day, hence the hotel voucher. I decided to hop on my original plane and make my way to Dallas.
I'm not a fan of Dallas anymore.
Similar to my first layover in Philadelphia, I got off my flight thinking I only had a little time to get to my next flight. My boarding pass did not have a gate number, but I managed to track down the gate after some awesome detective work. Too bad they changed the gate a few minutes after I got there. This became a trend, as they changed our gate about five times, which is not even an exaggeration. They weren't even the gate changes that are simple and just a few gates over. No, our large group of people trying to get to SLC had to get up and haul all of our luggage across the terminal to the other side of the terminal. (I suppose, if I am counting my blessings, I can fell lucky that we didn't have to change terminals, as Dallas Fortworth Airport is huge). With each gate change, our flight got pushed back more and more. The original flight time was around 7:00pm, but then was pushed to 9:00pm, then 11:00pm, followed by 12:15pm. By this point I had met up with Sarah and Tracy, two girls also from my program. We were all exhausted, because by this point it was around 4:00am London Time, meaning we had been up for FOREVER! Surprisingly, while all of this was happening I was actually pretty chipper. I wasn't going to let the airport man get me down. And then our flight was cancelled.
The large group of SLC goers were transferred to yet another gate, and the moment we arrived we noticed that on the screen behind the ticket desk, our flight had been cancelled. Big red letters mocked us and our delayed state. People went from being pretty tired to being very angry. The most frustrating part was that they wouldn't really tell us what was going on. All they would say is that they no longer had a crew for the flight. Next thing we know there were EMTs, police officers, and firefighters walking through the terminal. Everyone began crowding around the ticket desk, trying to figure out what was going on. The workers were very flustered, and I don't blame them. People were being nasty. They handed out food vouchers, which only made people even more mad considered that at this point most of the airport shops had been closed. A long line formed and they started trying to reassign flights. They didn't have anything left for the night, and had to inform everyone that they would be staying the night at the airport, as they would not be providing a hotel. Oddly enough, even by this point I was still in a decent mood.
Tracy fortunately had the great idea, inspired by her parents, to call the BYU travel office. It was about 11:00pm in Provo by this point, but fortunately the travel office has a 24/7 emergency contact number. We got ahold of Peter, a wonderful employee in the office, who told us to try and see what we could get from the ticket desk. We waited in line for quite a while, as three workers did their best to work with the gaggle of people. We were towards the end of the line, but finally made it there. I managed to get a flight that was set to leave from Dallas to California in the morning, and then transfer to a Delta flight to take me from California to Utah! By this point I was ready to get anything that would get me home, but I was quite pleased to find out that with these flights I should be home by the next day around 1:00pm. Sarah and Tracy also got some flights, though theirs differed a bit from my own.
We called Peter back and he then booked us a hotel just a little ways from the airport. He said that it would be complimentary, but I don't know if that means BYU covered the cost, or if they managed to convince American Airlines to do so. We were told to go outside and call a number for a free shuttle that would take us to the hotel. As was pretty standard for this wonderful day, we struggled with this next step too. Right when we walked out we saw a shuttle going to the Westin Hotel. The driver asked us if we were going to board, to which we responded, "Uh...." We realized we did not actually know the name of our hotel. We told the driver to wait as we called Peter back. Just before we got ahold of Peter, the van left us. Guess what the name of our hotel was. Five points if you guessed Westin Hotel. We called the hotel and requested the shuttle, and they told us to move to a different location so we could be picked up. We ended up waiting until 2:30am before a shuttle FINALLY came to get us. By this point we had lost Sarah completely, as she was asleep on her feet, but we shuffled in and made our way over to the hotel.
The Westin Hotel was a lot fancier than I was expecting. It was actually very big and very beautiful. The night staff was great, though they took a little while to get our reservation going. We were sitting there for a while before the manager asked a security guard to show us to our rooms, saying that he would finish the reservation process without us. He could tell that we were exhausted. I got a room to myself with a King Size bed, while Tracy and Sarah shared a room with two twins. The room was very nice and I plopped down on the bed. It was 3:20am by the time I finally laid down to get to bed, but I was out.
My encounter with sleep was quite brief as I had to be up by 6:00am to head back to the airport for my next flight. I went down to the lobby and was going to check out and hop onto the shuttle when the manager informed me that the credit card that had been used for the booking had been denied. This is the point where I started wondering if I was on some sort of pranking sight. Fortunately he was very nice about it, and just asked if I could contact Peter. (He even said that he didn't wake us up when he discovered that last night, because he wanted to let us rest. Very nice man). I didn't actually have Peter's number, so I went and knocked on the girl's door to try and get the number from Tracy. Apparently they were OUT because they would not be disturbed. Finally I hopped on the internet and googled BYU Travel office and managed to track down the number. I got a hold of Peter, and he told me that he'd take care of it. I checked out, but by this point I had missed the shuttle twice. When it returned I hopped on and BOOKED it to the airport, hoping to make my flight. Spoiler alert. I missed it.
And this is the point where Jace is no longer being so positive about this whole experience, and suddenly finds himself about to have a panic attack. I had even arrived at the gate, despite all the delays, about eight minutes before departure time. Of course this would be the one flight in my whole trip that leaves early. Fortunately there was another flight an hour later that they switched me to for free. I used my voucher to buy a smoothie from Jamba juice, climbed on to the new plane, and then passed out.
Now our young adventurer finds himself sitting in the John Wayne Airport in Orange County, California. I've found my gate, and I got my ticket, though I did discover that this flight has been delayed as well. Fortunately this airport is actually quite nice and peaceful, and Delta rules because they provided free drinks and treats while we wait. I'm crossing my fingers that this flight will work out, and that I find my way home! Hahahaha. Oh gosh.
That random moment when I decide, a few months after the fact, to finish this tale. My flight from John Wayne went quite smoothly, and I finally found myself back in Utah. Jory and my mom were both there waiting for me, and I was excited to get home! Unfortunately I had one last hiccup. My bag did not make it to Salt Lake. I had my carryon, which fortunately had a good chunk of my stuff, but I was still missing my big bag of clothes and souvenirs. My Mom and I went to talk to the baggage claim people and they took down the description of my luggage and told me that they would contact me in 24 hours to give me a status update.
ReplyDeleteApproximately 48 hours later I get a call from the wonderful baggage people. They could not find my stuff. It was not showing any records anywhere. I had to sit and talk with a very nice representative before we figured out part of the issue. I came into Salt Lake on a Delta flight, and they were the ones looking for my luggage. The problem was that American Airlines flew me all the other stops. They eventually tracked down my bags and found that they were still sitting in Philadelphia. Awesome. Apparently, despite what several of the staff members at the Philadelphia airport told me, I was supposed to claim my baggage there, check it through customs again, and then put it back on my flight. That never happened. The nice lady said they would ship my stuff to my house and the story would be happy. Almost.
About two days later I get a call from American Airlines saying that my luggage has shown up. The fun thing is that, unlike Delta, they do not ship the luggage to your door, but as that you come and pick it up in person. By this point I was in dire need of some of my belongings, but I was already back at work and didn't think I could make it up to Salt Lake during business hours. Jory was very nice and volunteered to go up and retrieve my bag for me. I gave him all of my information and we were all ready to go. Jory drives to the Airport and goes to the baggage claim for American Airlines. The final hitch? They can't find my bag anywhere. After searching all over their storage, taking around an hour to do so, they finally find out that Delta, who was awesomely still helping out with my bag, had picked up the bag and had already shipped it to come to our house. Jory had gone up there for nothing. Fortunately I received my bag the next day, and this awesome tale of travel concluded...about a week after the fact.