I will take "alternate" transportation from now on...
This Romanticon was the first time I have ever flown Frontier Airlines...and the first time in over 20 airplane trips that I have had nearly more trouble than the plane trip was worth. My trip had been planned since July. Reservations made. Hotel all set up. Electronic tickets...the works. In all the times I have flown before, the planes have been on time...the connecting flights have been on time...and the whole ball of wax.
I should have realized that things would go haywire when we were informed that the plane that I expected to fly out to Denver on was nearly an hour late. Because they had to switch planes in Seattle. Because of mechanical problems. But it would be just fine, they said, "because the connecting flight I was to catch in Denver would be an hour and a half late." Because they had to switch out planes. Because of mechanical problems.
That made me feel safe and secure as all git out.
Well, That put me two and a half hours behind schedule to catch the last hotel shuttle from the airport to the McKinley Grand Hotel, which was a free service. The result? I had to find a cab at 1:45 a.m. and pay $70.00 to get myself to the hotel. Instead of getting a good eight hours of sleep before having to get up and start motivating, I got exactly three.
Dragging my fanny out of bed and crawling downstairs to breakfast was a real joy. Ahhhh...the free breakfast buffet. I was hungry enough to eat a cardboard horse that morning, so it tasted fantastic. Of course, nobody told me that I could order anything off the hotel breakfast menu that I wanted (for free) so I settled for the reconstituted scrambled eggs and hashbrowns, some cut up cantaloupe and tons of crisp bacon or sausage every morning. When I could have had eggs benedict...or waffles...or....sigh.
LOL! I guess I should have asked, right? No big deal, because it was free food and I was on a budget (especially after that $70 taxi ride). Besides...I'm used to my own cooking, and can't say that I'm a gourmet chef.
The hotel was great...the convention was fabulous. A wonderful time was had by all. I hated to leave. Then I took the free hotel shuttle back to the airport...only to find that my plane was late. Because they had to switch out the planes. Because of mechanical problems.
The hotel was great...the convention was fabulous. A wonderful time was had by all. I hated to leave. Then I took the free hotel shuttle back to the airport...only to find that my plane was late. Because they had to switch out the planes. Because of mechanical problems.
Sigh.
Because my connecting flight in Denver would be taking off about an hour BEFORE my delayed flight would land, they scrambled to find me another flight from Denver to Utah. They got me on a United Airlines flight that was to leave Denver at 10:05 p.m....making it necessary to call my son to pick me up four hours later than I had asked at first. So I looked at the scrolling flight boards in Denver to find my flight out, and it said that flight 6314 would leave from gate 33A at exactly 10:05 p.m.
YAY! I had time to get a bite to eat and I found a McDonald's about one football field away from gate 33A and had a leisurely meal. After gobbling my meal and dragging my 70 pounds of carry-on luggage back to gate 33A, figuring that I would relax until the flight boarded at 9:39 p.m., I opened a book and read for a couple of hours. After a while I began to notice that there was no one joining me for the next flight from gate 33A, and the scrolling sign over the podium said "Montreal 11:15 p.m."
Ummmm...
So I got up and walked over (dragging my friggin' two-ton luggage filled with books and junk from the convention) and found a gate attendant and asked if I was in the right place for flight 6314 to SLC. She hit a few dozen keys and replied laconically, "You are at the wrong gate. Flight 6314 has been changed...uh-huh...because we had to switch out the plane." Because of mechanical problems. Uh-huh. So where was I suppose to be to catch flight 6314 now? Ummm...where the hell is gate 90B? Ummm...whatdya mean, it's about five miles that-a-way?
Thank God there were four people movers that covered 40 of the gates in between...but that left this tired, frustrated, old lady humping her five-ton luggage through two full concourses, over the river and through the woods, down to another level, then back up and back down again. I finally sank into a chair at gate 85A because I was about to fall on my face. (The altitude change from 1100 feet to 5600 feet didn't help my blood pressure).
After huffing and puffing until my heart rate lowered to a safe 120 bpm, and getting my second wind, I crawled out of that lovely chair and managed to drag the ten-ton luggage to gate 90A, where I collapsed and waited anxiously for them to announce that my gate had been changed back to 33B!
Then came the ominous announcement that they were asking for "volunteers" to take a flight the following morning because the smaller plane was seriously oversold...no friggin' way! I am here...you WILL take me home TONIGHT!!!
I was fully ready to fight my way into the damn plane if need be, and didn't mind one damn bit having to check my carry on bag at the gate because the overhead area was "too small" for roll alongs. I was finally on the plane...the oversold one...when a commotion broke out at the front. There was a slightly over-Xantaxed passenger who was talking too loudly about the last time she flew and how she had started screaming "OH GOD WE'RE ALL GONNA DIE!"
The flight attendants asked her take a later flight that wasn't so crowded, and her two adult kids (who shared my three-seat row) decided they would not fly out without Mom. So I was able to stretch out over three seats and watch a free in-flight movie because...uh huh...the flight was so late.
So next year I believe I will drive...or take a train...or maybe catch a ride on Shadowfax. Any of those options seems to be better than flying the friendly skies.
Tell me...have you ever had this type of travel nightmares? Please share.
Hugs!
Fran
