I must have some really bad travel Mojo going on right now.
In the last two weeks I’ve had a flight cancelled due to horrific weather forcing an overnight stay in a hotel in a foreign country( okay it was Newark, N.J., but it’s adds so much more drama to my story). It took me an extra 24 hours but I made it home.
I can live with one horrific weather incident a year. Stuff happens. No big deal in the scheme of things.
But then last night on a flight from Edmonton to Toronto, due to horrific weather, I sat on the runway (well not just me, but me and 136 other travelers) for over 2 hours waiting to get the all-clear signal at Pearson International Airport.
To make matters worse, because by this time it was 12:35 am, when we finally got clearance to go to a Gate there wasn’t anyone to great us, as in the ground crew greeting committee, so we sat for another hour before we could deplane.
Then we waited for our baggage.
For another two hours.
Have you ever sat watching the carousel go round and round with everyone else’s bag and never see your own? Multiply that by 100 times and that’s how many bags were riding round and round and round. No owners, just bags going round and round and round and round endlessly.
People get very crabby when they watch other people’s bags go round and round. There were a fair amount of angry tired dehydrated crabby folks at YYZ last night. Some gave up and just left. Others ran between carousels searching for their possessions on the off chance that their luggage had decided to join another flight. I found an electrical outlet and tweeted. Due to lack of sleep and food I thought I was hilarious, this morning upon reading them, no I wasn’t.
It’s hard to describe the feeling that embraces you when you see your bag falling off the baggage carousel after two hours of endless watching. Bliss, euphoria, jubilation just washes over you.
But the short lived rapture was quickly replaced by exhaustion as I lugged my extremely heavy suitcase outside and arranged for an Aerofleet driver to pick me up and drive me home. The ride was great as usual, the driver and I had a lovely conversation about healthy eating and then – I was home.
I’ve learned that all too often once one thing goes wrong; it’s a slippery slope to Hell. I went to get my keys to discover that I had lost my raincoat with my house keys safely stowed away in its secret pocket.
I’d never noticed how very quiet 3:45 AM is. Aside from the odd bird chirping and a racoon banging around in my neighbour’s garbage the neighbourhood had a sense of calm about it.
I did a couple of deep yoga breaths and made a mental note that I should find a hiding place for my key outside the house.
Stranded on my porch I called my husband at work.
“Hi, honey, I’m home.”
“Wow, its late, how was the flight?”
“Not so good! Honey, I’m….(starting to break down)…locked out of the… house….(heading for tears)….and I lost my new raincoat with the house …keys..they were…in the pocket..(full blown tears, I think it had more to do with being exhausted than being a huge baby at 3:46 AM alone in the dark with racoons lurking about.)”
“I’ll be right there.”
I love that man.
It is now later the same day, I am safely home, raincoat and key-less, jacked on coffee, and determined not to let two separate Me vs The Weather Incidences ruin my future flying plans. But – and I’m just say’n, if you ever see me on your flight, you might just want to make other plans.