Come fly with me.

A true account of recent travel. Focusing on airline travel and how things are never certain.

COME FLY WITH ME

Vaun Stanton

In this day of computers and internet everything works like clockwork. Precise and exact. When you have a schedule you know what is going to happen and when it is going to happen. So when I booked my flights I knew exactly where I had to be and when I had to be there.

I woke up at 3.30 am. It had to be this early to catch the first flight from Brisbane to Sydney at 6am. It was all part of my schedule.

Oddly and as time went on, annoyingly, there had been at least 20 changes to my itinerary, which I had booked and paid for 6 months earlier. Each time I got a message about a change, I took note of it and then thought well that’s that. I never expected another change, then another change, then another change, then another change and so on.

But finally the day had arrived. And now that I am walking into the airport nothing is going to change is it? I mean what can they do now? I am all packed, I am at the airport, I have my tickets, I’m checking in……

Flight cancelled. I was supposed to fly to Sydney then transfer to the international terminal at Sydney and fly to Los Angeles. However, there’s been another change. I am now flying direct from Brisbane to Los Angeles. This is good and bad news. It’s good because I don’t have to be at the airport so early and can sleep in. It’s bad because I am at the airport already and I didn’t get to sleep in. Away from the counter I sit down and pull out my phone about to describe my latest predicament but then decide against sending a text message at this hour of the morning. That’s when I notice I have received a new message. I wasn’t expecting anyone to send me a message this early. It was sent at 11.55pm last night from Delta airlines. ‘Your flight to Sydney has been cancelled’. Well, I can’t say I wasn’t warned. How silly of me. Instead of going to bed early last night, so I would be ready for my flight to Sydney, I should have stayed awake all night on the off chance that Delta would change my flights at the latest possible moment.

I walk outside, looking for a Taxi. Hang on, there’s a train that services the terminals here. The train will be cheaper than a taxi. After all, I just spent $70 on a taxi to get me here on time. Making my way across the over bridge toward the train station I look down at the early morning traffic and see a bus drive by. A thought comes to mind. I was going to catch the free shuttle bus in Sydney to transfer between the terminals and if they have a free transfer bus in Sydney then maybe there’s a free bus here too. I turn around and head back down to the drop off / pick up area and search the signs. Yes, here it is. A free shuttle bus. The Bus arrives 5 minutes later and I’m on my way to Brisbane international terminal.

The International terminal, this is where I should have started in the first place. Unfortunately it looks like I now have a 6 hour wait. In fact I have to wait over 3 hours before I can even check in. It’s almost worth going back home but not quite. As I will be sitting for hours on end in the plane, I spend most of my time walking around the terminal. When the check in counter opens I am one of the first to the kiosk. Fumbling around with a mass of travel documents I dutifully follow the prompts of the kiosk. Scan passport. Problem. See a staff representative. A member of the airlines comes over, looks at what is going on and says, 'follow me’.

He types my details into his computer. I tell him my original flight was cancelled and I am now flying direct from Brisbane to Los Angeles. He asks me if I have booked a return flight. I show him my itinerary. Then, ‘Do you have a visa waiver?’ Yes. After a while he seems to have sorted it out and issues me with a seat. Yet on his screen, I can see one of my return flights are missing. Being somewhat concerned that I may never get back home, I ask him about the missing return flight. He says, ‘The computers are a bit slow they will probably update in a couple of hours’. That sounds promising. With boarding pass, finally in hand I go downstairs to pass through security before anyone changes their mind.

Like a caged animal I walk up and down the departure lounge past all the boarding gates from one end of the terminal to the other. It’s at the Northern end where there are only a few people that I see the Virgin 777 �" 300 airplane. The one I will be travelling on. Parked behind the terminal overnight next to the Emirates A380. I watch it being towed out from its parking spot and maneuvered around to the front of the terminal to take up its position at one of the gates. I must have walked 3km pacing around this terminal all morning but now I am ready to board.

It’s a full flight. I am lucky to have got an aisle seat in a row similar to the one I had picked for my Sydney to LA flight.

Apart from the customary hello and pleasantries exchanged when people first settle into their seats, most keep to themselves. Preferring to indulge in the array of entertainment on offer on the screens straight in front of them or trying to sleep. There is usually a good selection of films and audio to choose from. And at last some good luck. A film I wanted to see at the cinemas but couldn’t because it was no longer screening when I had the time to see it, is available on the inflight entertainment.

Our first meal arrives. We have 3 options to choose from. When asked what we want, the girl next to me asks for her meal. It is the same meal I ask for. The drinks trolley then comes down the aisle. The girl next to me asks for a beer. I ask for a beer. Sometime later as we get nearer to LA our breakfast is being served. The girl next to me chooses her meal. This is getting embarrassing. It is the same meal I had planned to ask for. I wish they would ask me first. Then it won’t look like I am menu stalking her. Ok here comes the drinks trolley and time to make a break for it and prove I’m not a menu stalker. I’m going to ask for an orange juice this time no matter what she asks for. They ask her what she wants. ‘An orange juice’. Damn it. ‘And you sir?’ ‘A coke please’.

Now here’s an interesting observation about long haul flights and seating positions. I am in an aisle seat and I get up 4 times to visit the loo. The 4^th time mainly out of boredom and to give my legs a stretch. The girl beside me, who kept on stealing my menu ideas, gets up 3 times. But the guy sitting beside the window doesn’t get out of his seat the whole trip. Perhaps this is how it is for all people on the flight. If you can easily get up and visit the bathroom, you do. I noticed people’s movements in nearby seat rows with interest. If someone got up to visit the toilet then everyone else in that row would also get up to visit the toilet. It’s akin to prison eticit. Where cell mates pace themselves depending on each other’s movements.

And so finally we arrive at LA Airport. There’s the usual 20 minute stand and wait as people ahead of you exit the plane first. They slowly file out one at a time leaving behind them a debris field of trash and discarded items over the floor and seats.

1 and a half hours to go through customs. The guy who was sat next to the window ran off as soon as he cleared customs. Perhaps he was in a rush to get to the toilet.

As I am about to walk out I get stopped and asked if I have any more luggage. I say no, all I have is my carry on. They ask me for my print out from customs. I didn’t use the machine so I don’t have one. They write something on a pink slip, hand it to me and tell me to go through the door over there for extra screening.

Inside the extra screening area I wait behind the white line to be called up. There are four customs agents per table. This looks serious. One of the agents waves me forward. I place my bag on the table and hand him the pink slip. He looks at it and facing his computer screen says, “That’s OK”. At least that’s what I think he said. I pick up my bag and start walking out. I don’t get called back or have the dogs set upon me. Just another frustration for no reason.

My hotel is not far away. I can walk there. I walk until it looks like I am about to run out of footpath. I go ask a guy manning a shuttle bus desk if he would take me to the hotel. He says you can just take a free bus from over there. Waving his hand in the general direction of a series of bus stops. This place is a nightmare of buses, taxis, cars and police and ‘over there’ is 3 different bus stops next to each other served by multiple buses. As I am crossing the road I see the name of the hotel I am staying at, on the side of a bus. He is leaving. I run out and hold my arm out hoping that he might be looking in the mirror. Luckily he was and he stops for me. I am the only one on the bus.

I have a day room booked in the Courtyard by Marriott. It’s a nice hotel. I have arrived 10 minutes early so I sit down to wait. Almost immediately a guy comes over and says he can book me in right away.

I get excited when I hear I have a room on the 7^th floor. There should be a nice view from up there. After looking at the food on offer at the café I decide on simply buying a sandwich and drink from the lobby store to take up to my room.

There are two double beds, a TV, bathroom and an empty fridge. The 7^th floor is the top floor. I go to the window and open the curtains. Looking down I can see cars in a narrow carpark. Looking straight ahead I see a huge concrete wall of another building. Not much of a view but I do get to hear the planes as they come in to land.

Settling down to eat my sandwich and drink my drink I turn on the TV to see what America has to offer. The same TV programmers we get back at home. Not a Baseball game in sight. After sorting out some of my things it’s time to get some sleep. I lay down and let the rumble of passing jets ease me to sleep. I awake an hour and a half before I have to check out. I freshen up with a hot shower before heading out.

I pay for my hotel room then catch a free bus back to the airport. Hoping I can find something to eat there.

I walk around looking for somewhere to eat but only find an overpriced Starbucks. I ask the guy checking passenger tickets if there are any restaurants inside the waiting lounge. He says yes, so I proceed through the gate into the passenger only area. Once again there’s the usual cattle herding process, zig zagging back and forth until you finally reach the x-ray machines. Seeing a guy trying to sleep on top of his luggage in the walkway tunnel is a good indication of things to come. The final waiting area is over-crowded. At least it has a hamburger restaurant. Unfortunately every table is taken and there is a gathering of people waiting to pick up their orders and more people waiting in line to place their orders. Hunger gives me no option but to join the line. Like every good American store you can buy alcohol with your meal. I go for a soft drink and order a burger and fries. Am handed an electronic buzzer and stand back to wait.

I take my food into one of the two large crowded waiting lounges where virtually everyone is busy with their mobile phones.

After eating my meal I move towards my departure gate in the next lounge, which is even more crowded.

Another flight is preparing to board but they make an announcement that it is overbooked. They offer anyone $500. If they are prepared to catch a later flight. No one wants to take them up on their offer, even though the next flight to the same place is only two hours later.

Now my flight is ready for boarding, half an hour late. I am in Zone 3. Always the last zone to board. I think that might be a good thing as I don’t have to be in my seat waiting for others to board. Of course, it is the opposite when it’s time to leave. People at the front get off first, so zone 3, down the back, is always last to get off.

The amount of luggage which people carry on is interesting. Bags with wheels and an extendable handle are called ‘Rolled bags’. People with rolled bags have them tagged and transferred to the cargo hold. Their bags are placed by the door for collection when they exit the plane. Many people carry a rolled bag, a normal carry-on bag and a cloth shopping bag. This avoids having to wait at the luggage carousel for your bags.

Of course I don’t get the seat that I booked months ago and had to re-book every time they made an adjustment to my itinerary. I am stuck in the middle.

With Delta Airlines you have to buy headphones. Which cost $2. Credit card only. And then they are yours to keep. I give it a miss, it’s only a 4 hour flight. I look at the sport channels hoping to catch a Baseball game but it’s NFL season and all the sports channels are covering different NFL games or lead up to the big finals. There is a documentary about Baseball. There was a guy sitting behind the fence. On the fence was a sign which read ‘Beware of foul balls and flying bats’. Although it looked good, a documentary without sound is hard to follow. I then found a boring movie with subtitles to pass the time away.

Here’s another thing about America. They have big airports. You think LA is big? Other airports have room to expand and have long runways. I found this out flying into Detroit. I really couldn’t see much at all during the flight. It was dark outside and looking across the guy sitting next to me, out the window I mostly saw the wing. I could tell we were losing altitude and every now and then I glimpsed lights below us. Then surprisingly, without any jarring motion, suddenly came the familiar heavy vibration as the wheels rolled down the corrugated concrete runway. It was such a smooth landing that I had to look out the window to confirm we were on the ground. This is when I first came to realize the size of the airport we had just arrived at. We went hurtling down the runway at an incredible speed without the brakes on. I automatically pressed my foot to the floor, willing to apply the brakes but to no avail. We just kept going. How long is this runway? Then, at last the brakes came on and we maneuvered to the gate. Although we had left LA late, we landed fast and smooth at Detroit 1 hour early.

Walking through the airport I see a train inside the airport which can take you from one end of the airport to the other. During my 7 hour layover in Detroit I planned to take a quick trip into Canada. I asked a taxi driver if he could take me across Ambassador Bridge into Canada. He asked if I had my paperwork in order. I go back upstairs where I can get the free Wi-Fi and find out you need a visa waiver even if you are just transiting through Canada. So I gave up on that idea and decided upon a quick tour of Detroit instead.

I went back downstairs to the taxis and asked if they could take me to look at the abandoned buildings. They wouldn’t take me unless I gave them an address. I was surprised they don’t know where any of them are. According to Google, Detroit is well known for its abandoned buildings. I see a limo service nearby and ask if they can show me around Detroit. I am told, ‘Well it costs $60 an hour, you know’! From that I get the feeling they don’t want to take me either and walk away. Back upstairs to the free Wi-Fi. I find an address of an abandoned building. Then back downstairs to the taxis. At last I go in a taxi to see the abandoned building. The driver also takes me around Detroit, stopping off so I can take photos. He even stops at the river separating USA from Canada and says, ‘You could go there if you have your papers with you’. So close and yet so far.

Back at the airport, I check myself in at one of the self-service kiosks. A question appears on the screen, ‘Would you be willing to accept compensation for a later flight’. Remembering back to my layover in LA when I heard the airlines offering people $500 to take a later flight, I thought this would be a good way for me to make some money. So I checked the yes box. It then asked me how much I would be willing to accept. $100, $200, $300, $400 or $500? Naturally I choose the highest figure available, $500.

I go through security, showing my boarding pass. The guard highlights my boarding pass and writes W T on it. I have no idea what that means but I guess it is to show this passenger is willing to wait. All of a sudden I feel like I have a price on my head and I am regretting my decision. I didn’t even check to see when the next flight to my destination will be. If I don’t catch my scheduled flight I could be stuck here overnight.

I walk around the airport till I see something that personifies America. Wendy’s, burger restaurant. For an early lunch I order a Bacon bowl and drink. A bowl with potato wedges, bacon and melted cheese which is very tasty.

Then I have to resign to waiting around and dozing in chairs. Finally, late as usual, my flight starts boarding. My name hasn’t been called. So it’s looking good. As soon as zone three is allowed to board I am one of the first up and luckily allowed to proceed. This flight is only half full. In fact the seat next to me is empty. Due to rough air they won’t be serving any refreshments. Oh well it’s just over an hour flight time and for the first time I am beside a window but unfortunately there is nothing to see but cloud below.

It’s not until we drop down for our approach to South Bend airport that I see a network of roads which I recognize, from studying and memorizing Google Maps, as the roads I need to drive down on the final leg of my journey.

I have a rental car booked. The guy at the counter gives me a high five for having the same birthday as him. I say I want to pay for the hire with cash. He says no problem you can do that when you return the car. He then gives me vague instructions indicating where the car is. I walk outside to the rental car park. There are clean cars and dirty cars all beside each other. Hmmm, which is mine. In America they don’t have license plates on the front of vehicles. I walk around the back of a car to look at the License plate, then at the contract in my hand. There is no license plate on the contract. I may as well just press the unlock door button on the key and see which car flashes its indicators. OK, so pressing this button here. Wait a minute, the car right beside me, the one I had walked around, just unlocked. This is my car.

And that’s how I got to my holiday destination. After an all too brief holiday, I was expecting a seamless travel experience, heading back home.

Upon arrival at South Bend Airport I check my rental car in and say I would like to pay for it with cash. Only to be told ‘You can’t do that’.

I then go to the self-serve kiosk to get my boarding pass, only to find my flight to Detroit has been delayed and because of the delay I will miss my connecting flight to LA. At the Delta check in counter I ask what happens in this situation when your flight is delayed and you are unable to connect onto your next flight. The lady there tells me I still need to check in with the delayed flight because you never know, it may come in early.

I then try to pass through security to the departure lounges only to be stopped for having too much liquid. I was planning to have some lunch at the airport while I waited for my flight so I bought some food and drink at the gas station when I filled the tank of the rental car. The security guard gave me the option of throwing it out or going back outside to consume it. I choose to go back out and have a hurried lunch. Although I wasn’t really in the mood for lunch just yet as I was concerned about my flights. After my rushed lunch I went through security a second time. Only to be stopped a second time. This time they had identified something in my bag they needed to inspect.

He pulls out a glass prism. I tell him it’s used for photography and he lets me through. In the departure lounge there is another Delta airlines counter. I approach it to ask the same question as before. What happens in my situation, my flight to Detroit is delayed and I will not be able to make my connecting flights. The attendant looks on her computer and says, ‘If you don’t mind we can route you through Minneapolis St Paul instead of Detroit. By going that way you will be able to make your connecting flight to LA’. I readily agree. She processes the changes and checks me in for my next 2 flights. South Bend to Minneapolis St Paul. Minneapolis St Paul to Lax. She is unable to check me in for the LAX to Brisbane leg but says I am confirmed for that flight.

While I wait for my new flight to Minneapolis St Paul I see my original flight from South Bend to Detroit far from coming in earlier than expected has been delayed even further. Also my Minneapolis St Paul flight is now delayed.

My flight was only delayed 10 minutes but arrived at Minneapolis St Paul on time. Getting off your plane, you have to check the screens at that gate for connecting flights. I made the mistake of walking past it and looked at a different screen listing departures but couldn’t find the one I wanted. I went back, found the right screen and managed to read the departure gate for my connecting flight just in time before they cleared the screen.

This is a huge airport. It has a light rail system but I could never work out how to get to it. I have plenty of time anyway so I don’t mind walking. After a long walk I arrive at my gate. It is crowded here. So with plenty of time I move to a less crowded waiting area. It seems everyone is obsessed with their phones. There are power points everywhere so you can keep your phone charged up. There are even comfortable seats with internet screens fixed to the table, free to use. They have food and drinks advertised on them which you can purchase while you are waiting.

I walk around a few shops. There are no price tags. I buy a small orange juice $3.75 and end up with crumpled $1 notes and pennies. Interesting to note, you can buy nail clippers here while you wait to board your plane. Yet, when you go through security to enter the passenger lounges they will take nail clippers away from you because they are a prohibited item.

As the sun starts to go down, boarding for my LA flight begins. Boarding is a slow process which involves more waiting for your zone to be called. They say they need at least 15 people to check bags in as there is no room in the overhead lockers. Zone 3, being last to board, of course losses all their overhead locker space to people in zone 2 and 1 who have already boarded and taken up the room with the 2 or 3 bags they carry on.

I only have my one bag, so that fits under the seat in front of me. I am seated beside a window near the back of the wing. This is a good place to watch the flaps and air brakes during take-off and landing.

I get to see the lights below as we come in to LA. The flaps and fuel tanks fold further down than I have seen before. We disembark and the crowd moves off in one direction but I know better. I scan the room for signs and see the one I want. Shuttle bus to terminal 2. Peeling away from the momentum of the crowd I come to a doorway and a lady checks my flight info and tells me I need Terminal B. I am to go down stairs to the tarmac and wait for the terminal B shuttle bus.

After a short shuttle bus ride around LA airport I enter terminal B but have no idea where to go from here. I wander around till I find an information sign. It says the Virgin flight to Brisbane will be leaving from gate 133. To get there, I have to walk against the flow of general population. I arrive at gate 133 and que up to check in.

I hand my information to the guy at the counter. He says, ‘You’re not on this flight’. He has to make a phone call directly with Delta to find out what is going on. He tells me to sit down, he will call me when he finds out some information from Delta. Although this area is crowded, as it seems every airport is, I manage to find a seat not too far away.

With only one hour before the plane is due to fly out, my stress levels have found a new peak, my name is called over the loud speaker. Back at the counter I am informed I have a seat on the plane. Oddly enough it is the seat I had originally booked over 6 months ago. What a coincidence. This is an old and cold plane. Another full flight, with quite a number of people coughing all the way back to Australia. Before we arrive back in Australia we are informed that we must declare if we have a cold, fever or not feeling well. There is a $1,200 fine for not declaring if you are unwell.

Going through customs at Brisbane is an absolute breeze compared to LA. A machine scans your passport, then another machine takes your photo. I don’t have any luggage to collect so I can proceed straight to customs. The customs guy simply waves me through making me one of the first out of the airport. I catch a free bus to Skygate. From there I catch another bus to Garden City from where I plan to take a taxi home.

Well, that was the plan. No matter how many taxis I wave down, they just won’t stop. OK, I’ll phone them. Only thing is they don’t answer their phone. All I get is an answer machine telling me how easy it is to book a taxi online. I walk back to the busway and look at the timetable. There are no buses going towards my home till midafternoon. Am I really going to be stuck here all day waiting to get home? This is a big shopping center, there must be a taxi rank somewhere. I approach the nearest doors. The entry doors to Myers. But the doors don’t open. It’s not 9am yet. I will have to wait ten minutes for these doors to open. I know the food court area is open so I start heading toward those doors. That’s when I notice the buses at the upper level bus stop. One of the buses has the sign ‘Springwood’ on its destination. As I run over to the bus I remember I only have American money. Maybe I can offer him my crumpled $1 notes and a handful of pennies. Luckily we know each other and he allows me on. We talk about my travels and how the weather has been while I was away. He drops me off at a stop near my house. What took me just over half an hour to get to the airport in a taxi, when I started my journey, has taken me 3 hours to get home by bus.

So it’s finally over. Home at last and I fall into bed for 4 hours of sleep. When I wake I see a new message on my phone. ‘Your flight from La to Detroit is now ready for boarding’. Perfect.

OK now it’s over, isn’t it? Like most people, I collect points for my flights but when I check them, I see they have only added on one flight. After a long phone call I am told I cannot be given any more points because I did not travel on my original flight plans. I paid for my flights in full, I travelled on the planned days and I get penalized for all the changes Delta and Virgin airlines made to my flight itinerary. Changes, which I had no option but to accept. So thank you, another loyal Qantas traveler is born.