This summer I visited my family in Bavaria. We celebrated my 70. Birthday in Italy. My daughter works for a pharmaceutical company, visiting clinics. So she took me quite often with her, dropped me off in a city’s downtown area and picked me up again, when she was done with her job. I saw Bayreuth, Munich, Regensburg, Rosenheim and made trips on my own to Salzburg and Prague.
Then it was time to leave. For a long flight it's advisable to wear Supporting Stockings, but I could not find them any more, they must have disappeared in the laundry, anyways, so I bought quickly some new ones.
On the next morning I dressed for the departure. I felt the supporting stockings already slipping. My daughter said: "you have to saw them on your slip." So I did exactly what she suggested.
We had a nice, relaxing trip to the airport Munich. This was the last relaxing time for a while.
Arriving at the Air Canada Check-in, I was told that I was on the stand-by list, no reason given why. Christine got very angry and threatened with a lawyer right away. Well, I should go straight to the departure gate and see what will happen. Because I did not have my glasses ready, I asked Christine for the # of the gate. She said: # H 48.
After an emotional goodbye I went for the security check. With last minute re-arranging of the luggage for weight restrictions I put my laptop in the carry-on bag. It became very inconvenient; because it had to be screened separately every time. I also carried some beautiful, heavy; nevertheless fragile glass fruits with me, which I wanted to give to my daughter Veronika as a present. She was taking care of my dog Hector while I was gone, and I would take Hector back with me to Kelowna.
But back to Munich: I searched for gate H 48. I walked and walked until I stood at the US destination gate. This was not right. I had to go back to gate H 34. While walking, I felt those damned Supporting Socks slipping again, now only the top pants held them up. And then the carry-on bag on top of the other one started to slide as well, and as often as I tried, I could not hold anything in place.
Finally I arrived at the Toronto departure gate. “Step back and wait, I was told” I had to wait to the last minute for a seat. In between I managed to go to the washroom, ripped the stockings off and wore only my shoes.
In the airplane I sat besides a nice gentleman who told me that he had to cancel the flight for his sick wife, therefore the seat was vacant.
Arriving in Toronto you have to declare your luggage at customs. Mine was spit out last. Then there was a long line up at customs. When I arrived at the next Air Canada Check-in for a new boarding card, I was told that the airplane had already left. I was boarded for the next flight to Calgary, again only on the waiting list. The flight was filled to capacity. I phoned my daughter Veronika in Fort McLeod that I will not make it to Kelowna tonight, I would check into a hotel in Calgary.
The next flight had only one seat available at the back where the crew usually sits.
So I wiggled myself with the heavy carry-on to that seat and arrived at midnight in Calgary. It made me almost sick just to think on my other luggage, I had no idea where it was and frankly at this point I did not care any more.
Stepping out of the airport building, I spotted one single shuttle bus, and the driver brought me to their hotel. I checked in, went upstairs, and slid the card in the door of my room. But it was new to me, that you also needed the card to switch the lights on. So I stood there for a while until I figured out how it worked.
I watched myself in the mirror. Where did I get so dirty? My hands, fingernails were black, my travel bag dirty. Taking off my coat I saw my beautiful pink cashmere sweater had a bluish shine to it. What happened? The newly bought coat lost color!
Then I opened my carry on suitcase. With moving stuff back and forth for the proper weight, I could not remember any more what was inside. But the first thing I took out was a brand new nighty from Josefine, a freshly washed slip which Christine had put in the bag, another sweater and even some socks!
I felt so good, that I fell instantly asleep.
And on the next morning the laptop which had bothered me all the time, came really handy. I looked for connection flights and phoned for reservations, only to be told, that I would be on the standby list. But I phoned Veronika, and she would come in the afternoon with the dog.
I had to search for my luggage, so I went early back to the airport. And there it was, waiting for me.
Then my daughter arrived. Finally I could part with the glass fruits; she really liked them.
Now it was time for the last check-in. We got Hector, but I was the seventh on the waiting list. “If you would rebook the whole flight, you might have a chance to get on that flight. I did, and handed out my MasterCard once more.
At least we arrived in Kelowna. Hector wiggled with his tail in his cage. Brigittte picked me up and surprised me with a Thanksgiving Turkey Dinner.
Now: How often did I miss a connection flight?
Labels: October Travel-Trouble 2009
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