Here we go again! A new travel adventure.
Today I’m headed to Geneva. That beautiful Swiss city by the lake. Home to the UN. I’m all packed, I’m excited, and off I go to the airport.
Trouble Brewing
All was well. A storm had passed through in the early morning hours in Des Moines, however, by 6 am when my Uber picked me up, not a cloud in the sky could be seen. I breezed through the airport. No lines at the counter, no line at TSA precheck. The airport was quiet and serene. All was well…
I took a seat at the airport restaurant and ordered a big breakfast. Eggs, bacon, and hashbrowns. Loading up on energy for the long day ahead. A flight from Des Moines to Chicago, then a second one to Washington DC, and a third one that would fly me across the Atlantic and into Geneva. As I sat sipping my coffee, I began to review my emails. And then, the message arrived. A message from United. My flight to Chicago was delayed two hours due to a storm. Which meant that I would miss my flight from Chicago to Washington. My stomach dropped. Was my flight to Geneva in peril?
Quickly, I scrolled through the united app to see if other flights to Washington were available that day from Chicago. There were! But late in the day, and by the time I would arrive in Washington, my flight to Geneva would be long gone!
I looked at my weather app. The band of rain that had pommeled Des Moines earlier was marching past Iowa and into Illinois. I was disheartened. I suspected that our flight would be delayed even further.
But… that means that maybe our Chicago flight to Washington would be delayed too, and I would have a shot at making my transatlantic flight. I sat drinking my coffee pondering two scenarios: should I make my way to the gate and secure a different flight plan. Or… should I wait it out and see what happened in Chicago?
The Brotherhood of Delayed Passengers
I decided that I should speak to a gate agent ASAP… The line was extremely long and I waited for over an hour. With every few feet I moved in line, the longer our flight was delayed.
It’s a funny thing being in a line with strangers that have the same predicament. Soon conversations sprung up. Angry quips at the airline at first, but then people began to open up. We discussed our destinations, the reason for travel, etc. And then a sort of comradery was born. We even began to encourage each other that our situation would work itself out.
I met an older man named Oscar who was on his way to Boston to visit his daughter. There was a fertilizer salesman who had been rerouted a total of three times that morning. A group of three ladies were about to start their long awaited sister’s trip to Florida.
I showed Oscar that in the United app you could find out where your aircraft was coming from. Turns out, the aircraft that was flying us out of Des Moines was the same that would fly him to Boston.
It was my turn with the agent… finally! She proposed that instead of flying to DC, she would send me to Newark. There was a flight to Geneva at 5:30pm departing from there. Once in Chicago there would be plenty of time for me to catch the flight to Newark. I agreed. My Brotherhood of Delayed Passengers was thrilled with my outcome and we even cheered.
As we boarded the flight, I texted my mom to let her know my change in flight plans. And just as I hit send… a message from United. My flight from Chicago to Newark was now delayed and there was no way I would make my flight to Geneva. As my heart sank, the plane began to move. Nothing I could do now.
Weathering the Storm
As soon as we touched down at O’Hare in Chicago, I switched Airplane Mode off my phone and received a bombardment of messages… one from United. It said that my flight from Chicago to Newark was no longer “very delayed,” it was “less delayed” which gave a small window to make my connection to Geneva. Hope! I could work with that. I had 30 minutes from the time I landed to the time boarding ended.
After stress eating a Big Mac, I made my way to the gate and my heart slumped again. Another delay. I now had a 20 minute window in Newark. Would I make it? Or would I miss my connection?
We boarded the flight to Newark and began taxiing. And then nothing. Nothing. Until finally, the captain’s voice filled the cabin. A storm was coming and all East bound planes (including ours) were grounded. And with this, any hope of making my connection to Geneva vanished.
Reflections from Amor Towles
Our plane stood grounded for more than three hours in at the O’Hare tarmac. I could see the terminal in the distance and a long line of aircraft waiting for the flight deck to send them off. We were part of that line.
I love travel. But when we share travel stories, sometimes we gloss over the hardships we encounter during our journey. We have a habit of making travel incidents sound funny. We even call them travel adventures. And yes, looking back there is a lot of comedy and lessons learned. But at the time they are happening, they can create stress and anxiety. Stuck in my window seat with the rain pounding on the window, I felt powerless. I wanted to scream. It seemed that all I had done that day was wait. Stand in line… wait for the agent… stand in line… wait to board… stand in line… wait for your McDonald’s order… stand on the tarmac…. Wait on the flight deck… lines and waiting, lines and waiting, I wanted to scream!!!!
To distract myself from my inner tantrum, I began reading the latest work by Amor Towles. Amor Towles is the author of A Gentleman in Moscow. His latest work is a collection of short stories. In the story The Line, a Soviet farmer named Pushkin and his wife move to Moscow during the early days of Communism. Pushkin would take the ration cards and wait in line for sugar and bread and other necessities. And he loved it! He became good at standing in line and waiting. He enjoyed being outside, he would make friends, comment about the weather until waiting in line sort of became his job. I decided to take a page from Pushkin. I prayed and had a moment of gratitude.
London
Upon arriving in Newark the first thing I did was try to find a gate agent so they could rebook me for yet another time. But every time I would ask for help, the United employee would simply point me to a QR Code. United, if you are reading, why? How is this helpful? It’s not! It’s frustrating! Stop it! We don’t want QR Codes. We want people with empathy!
Luckily I am a premier member and can call a dedicated line.
The agent re-routed me through London. Then from London I would finally fly to Geneva. I was not thrilled at the prospect of yet another connection. I’d been to enough airports that day. However, there was an issue. They could not guarantee my checked bag would be onboard. I walked to the gate and spoke to the agent. She could not locate my bag. The app was no use either since no updates showed up since we left Chicago. They began boarding the London flight, but no one could confirm where my bag was. I had a bad feeling. This was my breaking point. I was not leaving America without my bag! I sprung into action and called United again. I wanted a different flight to Geneva for the next day. A direct flight from Newark to Geneva. No connections! And it would give me enough time to figure out where my bags where. And then I began to cry. I had had enough. I was tired of fighting and arguing and being stressed out over things I couldn’t control. So they changed my flight and while the London flight was being boarded, I made my way to Baggage Claim.
Baggage Claim
I reached baggage claim and was greeted by a United employee named Andy. He reminded me of Ernest P. Worrell, the fictional character played by Jim Varney. He resembled him physically and he was kind and very funny. Definatley, the kind of person I needed after my mini-breakdown. I explained my situation and explained the latest re-route. And when he took a look at his computer he said, “Good God, what did they do to you?” He asked to see my boarding pass. To which I replied, “which one?” as I pulled out at handful from my purse. He was able to find my bag and reroute it appropriately so it would travel to me to Geneva the next day. He confirmed that it had made it to the London flight, but it was off the plane now that I was no longer a passenger.
When he said that my bag was in fact going to follow me to London, I guess I could have said “Oh, I should have kept that flight and not lose a day in Geneva.” But what I really thought at that moment was “My trip starts in New York.”
