Flight delays
I have never had a major flight delay before. Seriously. I know, with
the amount I’ve traveled, it seems ridiculous, but thus far I had managed
to beat the odds and routinely show up early to my destinations. My
ridiculously bad luck with getting my luggage off last… now that’s
another story. It was really just a matter of time before my airline luck
ran out, and my timer finally caught up with me on my way back to
Vancouver from a wild, exotic trip to Kitchener/Waterloo, Ontario, Canada.
It seemed like a good idea at the time – book into the KW airport and
save ourselves and one of Eric’s friends (who picked us up) the hour and a
half drive to Toronto’s beautiful, big, lots-of-flights-to-choose-from
airport. Plus it was CAD$30.00 less on a Westjet seat sale. But signs of
trouble brewed early, when, before we even left Canada, the airline
personally called me at home to tell me our nonstop flight was now an hour
connection in Calgary. Amazing customer service, though. Serious props
to Westjet for that. Plus, I’d never been to Calgary before, so this
could be fun.
On the way there, it wasn’t bad. Our departure from Calgary was delayed forty minutes, but that just meant more time at the duty free, and I do love me some duty free. Side note – if I haven’t mentioned it before, I
freaking love airports. I love the way they smell, I love all the
luggage, I love the hustle and bustle and I even love the overpriced giant
Toblerones and amazingly cheezy souvenirs. The bigger the better – more to
see! So additional time in a new airport to me is like a little gift from
the airport Gods. Normally I have to haul my grumpy/sleep
deprived/hungover companions there early, only to have them collapse onto a padded bench seat and try to pretend not to know me as I skip through the terminal. This was far more efficient, espeically for a morning
flight. I was hoping to get the same fun in KW on the way home, but when
we landed and, before we even got off the plane Eric’s buddy Kyle texted
saying he knew we had arrived, because we were the only plane there, I
knew this wasn’t the party airport I was hoping for. The arrivals,
departures and luggage carousel were all in the same room, and only two
airlines flew out of here – Westjet and Bearskin – who only flies to
Montreal and Ottawa and whom I had never heard of, depsite all my years in
the travel industry.
So on the way home after a fantastic week of sun and fun, complete with a family wedding and trips to Canada’s Wonderland theme park and Niagara Falls, I just wanted to get to the airport on time, get on my plane, and have more time to explore the Calgary airport (read: the airport where
there is something to do) on the way home. This is when lightening
struck. Literally. There were weird storms all over Eastern Canada, with
Halifax being lit up like a light show and rain in Kitchener/Waterloo,
despite the heat wave. Our gate (correction, THE gate) had a bar and a
coffee shop and a cart of used books. There was a great fiew out to the
tarmac. And there was no plane. About the time we were supposed to
board, the Westjet girl gets on the loudspeaker and announces that our
plane has circled the airport twice unsuccessfully trying to land, and now
needs to go to Toronto for fuel before trying again. Should only be an
hour delay.
Five hours later, the recap was this: the flight spent four hours in
Toronto, during which time they were so sure they weren’t going to be able
to make it to KW that night that they offloaded all their passengers and
put them on a bus to KW instead of making them stay on the plane. In the
interim, we were getting half-hourly delays saying the “plane should be
arriving in KW is about 20 minutes”. Naturally. The look on the Westjet
lady’s face was one of pure regret every time she had to make another
announcement. We actually came very close to being boarded on a plane
ourselves and driven up to Toronto to fly from there, but just waiting it
out was determined to be the faster option, so we sat.
Here’s the thing, though. This actually didn’t bother me all that much. As an agent I know that the airline is legally obligated to somehow get you to your destination, so if there’s a chance to reschedule you/get you
going ASAP, they’ll do it. I wasn’t worried about that at all. And it
was kind of fascinating watching the reactions of the passengers and the
staff as they sorted through this uncomfortable situation. Normally this
is when I’d get a panic-stricken call from my client, demanding that I get
them to Wherever as soon as possible, despite the fact that I’ve advised
them that it’s way faster and more effective to just talk to the airline
lady yourself, she’s right in front of you. Then I’d spend a minimum of
half an hour on hold with the airline, listening to that spectacular hold
music, and then reschedule you on to the next flight (Which the airline
was totally going to do anyways!), or be told that the situation was
already resolved at the airport and all that holding was for nothing.
Maybe it was because we were such a small group at a tiny airport, or that
our average age was 55 and didn’t include any of the “my time is more
important than yours” businessmen, but most people were remarkably calm
and just went back to their newspapers. When we hit the four hour mark
and it became apparent that pretty much everyone who didn’t live in
Calgary was going to be forced to stay there overnight, people started
getting restless and anyone who could rebooked themselves on the following
day’s flight and went home for the night, leaving an increasingly small
group of us to watch the same newscast that had been on every half an hour
prior. There was a giant snake found in a bathtub in Calgary, by the way.
The group of us actually managed to empty out the little terminal cafe,
until there was nothing left to buy but a banana and some coffee. We took
it as a bad sign when they started bringing out breakfast sandwiches. You
mean we’re still going to be here in the morning?
At 1130pm, amidst loud clapping and some kids doing the wave, the plane finally arrived. We were loaded on immediately and took off for Calgary. Two episodes of So You Think You Can Dance and a whole lot of House Hunters, combined with some horrible failed sleeping attempts and we were finally back at least in Western Canada. Wrong freaking province, but now we were at least within spitting distance to home. And it was 5am our body’s time.
The instructions were to see the Westjet agents for accomodation
vouchers, and, since we were row 2 and there was nobody in row one, we
were the first off the plane and able to shanghai a gate agent all to
ourselves before we had to fight the crowds. They had a litle package of
a hotel voucher, a taxi voucher to get us there, and vouchers for
breakfast and lunch, if we needed it. Perfect. By now we were exhausted,
barely seeing straight, and grumpy, but the whole thing ran smoothly. Ten
minutes later we were in our room at the Holiday Inn Caldary Airport, and
let me tell you, that bed was so comfortable it was ridiculous. I could
have moved into that pillow for a week. What we got was less
than three hours. Our flight to Vancouver departed at 8, meaning we had
to be checked in and cleared security by 7, and we were on a 630 shuttle
to the airport. Getting up sucked. Seriously. Then some stupid shit who
clearly had a 10am flight and an ego figured he’d show up 15 minutes late
for the shuttle (for the life of me, I don’t get why they waited for him,
there was another shuttle 5 minutes after that), so it lead to some tense
line waiting at check in and security and then a sprint to a cafe to grab
a muffin for a 30 second breakfast before getting to our gate right as
they started loading. The lady at the muffin stand kept saying to me “buy
more, the voucher’s worth $20, you’re only spending $6 and you don’t get a
refund” to which, after the third time, I snapped “just give me my
freaking muffin and let me catch my plane before I hurt you!” You see, I
love airports, but I hate the possiblilty of missing a plane. Not gonna
happen.
An hour later we were finally back in Vancouver, sunglasses on to cover the bags under our eyes and fueling myself with a slurpee in hopes the
caffiene and sugar would keep me awake. I hopped the train directly to
work and Eric went home to sleep. In my line of work, unless you’re
stranded somewhere that only one flight weekly departs and you have the
possibility to die of exposure/be eaten by sharks/stoned by cannibals,
then you’re going to show up to work. Why? Because the person next to
you has always been through worse. I have to admit, though, that for my
first horrible flight delay experience, it went really smoothly. It was
uncomfortable and exhausting, sure, but Westjet did take full care of us
with no effort required whatsoever by us stranded passengers, and no
additional cost required. Good on you Westjet. Apparently your
commercials are right, you do care.
