Many, if not all, of you have probably seen my last few Facebook statuses in which I somewhat vaguely talk about the "nightmare" that was traveling on Saturday and Sunday. Well, now it's finally time for the world to get the whole store. Buckle in, because it will not be fun.
What might have been the first "bad omen" happened on Friday morning. Lauren and I had been waiting to hear back from someone in the program at the university about sharing a taxi in order to cut down costs, but they never followed up on what they said they would do. So that morning I went to the main taxi service's website, Coop Taxi, and started to make an online reservation until I saw that it wouldn't let me? Why? Because reservations for that website need to be made at least forty-eight hours in advance. At this point, I started freaking out. It was the morning of my last class - in which I had an exam - and I was trying to study and find another taxi service at the same time. There was no way we could take the bus; it would take us about a thirty-minute walk from the airport. Plus, it wasn't at all practical to take our luggage onto one of those things. Finally I found another taxi service that was much more flexible about their reservation dates, Taxi Laurier. I called them up with the phone in my room that the university provided and went to take my test.
The next morning, I was up at 6:30 to finish up my last-minute packing to get ready to go. It wasn't too terribly difficult. We met the taxi down in front of the building and took off towards the airport. The driver was very nice and asked us about our trip, if we liked Québec, if we liked Obama since we're Americans, and told us to speak French as much as possible. When we got to the airport, that was when things started to go wrong.
Lauren and I went to the self check-in booth and everything was fine at first until we went to pay for the checked bag we each had. We could even pay for them separately, which was convenient. Except for the fact that it wouldn't take my card. It wouldn't even acknowledge that it was there. Though we've had a few difficulties regarding using my card over the border, we'd thought that at an airport that wouldn't be a problem. Luckily, the screen said we could pay with cash. So I went to the opposite end of the terminal to withdraw $40 for the $25 fee. When I got back, I had to start over, and then Lauren and I went up to the front to the baggage drop. The first thing the woman said was, "If you're going to pay in cash, I don't have any change." What? Seriously? When I asked if she took my certain credit card, she said yes. REALLY? In the U.S. it wouldn't have been a big deal to have withdrawn $40. But I knew I was extremely unlikely to spend the money while in Canada, which would mean I would need to find a change bureau or a bank or SOMETHING at some point of I wanted the money back, which would turn into $38 eventually. Gah.
Our flight was scheduled for 11:03. We noticed when we got there that it had been delayed thirty minutes. This wasn't that big of a deal, since we had a long layover. Then, when we checked in, the woman said it had been delayed an hour. Okay. We'd still be okay getting to our connecting flight. Then, when I checked the screen as we settled down at the gate, it said that the flight to New York had been delayed for two hours. Not okay. There was no way would make our connecting flight, especially not with the need to go through customs and security again. Lauren called her mom, and after a lot of arrangements she got us on another flight to Chicago and then to St. Louis, but with American Airlines. She told us that we needed to get from Delta to the American Airlines terminal for the flight at 5:05, which was definitely doable.
The flight, which left at 1:00, to New York was fine. We got into the airport, and customs was a snap. It was quick and easy, though with the confusion and people, it reminded me of the pictures I'd seen on Ellis Island and all the immigrants. (Although with much better conditions.) When Lauren and I were through customs, we were told to wait at Carousel 4 for our luggage, which would need to be checked again. So we waited. And waited. And waited. And waited. People starting going up to Delta employees and we were told that the luggage "would be here soon." Eventually, our flight number was spotted on a different carousel, so we all migrated over there. And waited. And waited. After two hours, at four o'clock, people were panicking. Some, like us, had flights coming up, and some had already missed their flights since customs wouldn't let us leave without our luggage. The Delta employees were extremely unhelpful. They just kept saying that they had reconfirmed that the luggage was on its way, that it would be there momentarily, that they were "sorry for the inconvenience." Finally, one employee decided to take us through customs himself to work out getting connecting flights. Because Lauren and I were switching airlines, we weren't sure if our luggage had been sent to American Airlines or if it was still with Delta. When we entered the room with the man and the small number of others who were switching airlines, he looked out our baggage ticket and said that we were, in fact, in the wrong place. So we had to run as fast as humanly possible to American Airlines, which was on the complete opposite side of the building.
When we finally got there, we couldn't get through. The woman at the front of security didn't understand that we'd had flights booked on American Airlines instead of Delta, and since we didn't have any sort of ticket information, we couldn't prove it. She told us that, to rebook a flight, we needed to go through Delta. So we ran back to Delta, waited in line for what was at least forty-five minutes, to talk to a woman at "Kiosk Assistance." She started working on getting us another flight until she said, "Oh, crap" and then proceeded to inform us that she couldn't book us on another flight because we had, apparently checked in with American Airlines. WHAT?! This was insane. Not only that, but the only plane going to St. Louis was the next afternoon. After another fifteen minutes, she got the madness with us being on American Airlines sorted out, but that still left the issue that we were stuck in New York.
"What about a hotel?" I asked. "Where are we supposed to stay?"
The woman had seemed skeptical. "Well . . . I could try to put you girls up in a hotel tonight..."
SERIOUSLY?! Lauren and I were ready to strangle this woman. We were here due to the fault of Delta, and they wouldn't even put us into a hotel for the night? All we had were forty Canadian dollars. We could not afford a hotel, food, and taxi in New York. There was absolutely no way we could afford it. That would not work, and we didn't want to run around to try to find someone who would put us in a hotel.
"How close can we get to St. Louis?" I demanded. "What about Chicago? Can we get to Chicago?"
At that point, we just wanted to get out of New York, and Lauren pointed out that we could take the train to Quincy, Illinois. The only problem was our baggage. There was a flight to Chicago at 7:00, so the woman agreed to put us on that one. She also gave us business class as a way to "apologize for the inconvenience." Fine, whatever. We felt we deserved it at that point. So we practically ran to security and got there as quickly as humanly possible, despite the fact that it was slow going. While we waited, Lauren's parents called to tell us that they had booked us on another flight from Chicago to St. Louis with United Airlines the next morning. No matter what, we would be staying in Chicago that night. At least it was better than New York.
Business class, though it was Delta, was pretty nice. Pillow, blanket, mini pretzels coming out the wazoo. The few above the clouds, especially with the setting sun, was beautiful. Lauren and I were able to relax ever so slightly. Until we got to Chicago.
To be continued since I have to go get ready to drive to Kirksville. XD
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