Travel Inconveniences

 “Pay your money and take your chances,” my friend Niel often says. Part of the art of travel is confronting and adapting to the unknown and the unexpected. It is not always easy, and often we become fatigued and frustrated.

My journey to Portland was not going to be easy to begin with. I anticipated arriving in Oregon tired, after a long flight that would get me to the hotel late at night. Little did I think how difficult the first leg of the trip would be. My departure was from Harrisburg, a regional airport where security and check in is easy. Calculating cost in the long run, the little more in airline fares is offset by the additional travel to airports further away, parking, gas, and time. The downside, of course, is then something goes wrong there are fewer options to rearrange travel plans than at a larger airport. A technical issue with the aircraft scheduled to take us to Chicago O’Hara necessitated a call to the mechanics. The flight would be delayed at least an hour. A change in plans: crabcakes at a restaurant in the airport in Harrisburg.

I returned to the gate. More bad news. The nearest mechanics were located at Washington Dulles, a two-hour drive from Harrisburg. Quickly, it became apparent that I would not going to make my connection to Portland. My rescheduled trip would now involve an overnight in Chicago, at the airline’s expense. But we still needed to get there. The gate crew started bringing out water and snacks, soon they promised to order pizza from a local place in Middletown. The talk shifted to bringing a replacement airplane up from Dulles to get us on the way. Gate B1 was becoming monotonous. Shops and restaurants were closing. Shortly afterwards, an announcement was made that the TSA Security checkpoint would be closing as well. The terminal shifted to nighttime work. Construction and cleaning workers started an overnight shift, something most of us do not see in a busy airport as we scurry to our destinations. While the bustle of the airport changed its focus, the automated announcements, such as “Welcome to Harrisburg International Airport…” and “Enhanced security procedures are in place…”, never stopped.

We finally boarded the airplane a full six hours after the scheduled departure and were in the air by a quarter to midnight. The flight was only half full because many people made alternative arrangements. The flight attendant seemed befuddled by the whole process and experience. After waiting in the terminal for so long, many people were exhausted. I was among them. I did ask for a water when she came by, but otherwise tried to doze. At twelve thirty, the flight attendant made a solicitation about the airline’s credit card – given the previous six hours that was a pointless act. I realize that people like the flight attendant are just trying to do a job, none of this was her faculty. I try to offer a kind word and express gratitude in situations like this. But this time it might have been a mistake. I was dozing when I was startled awake to find the flight attendant telling me she had just spoken to the co-pilot, and we were about 45 minutes from Chicago.

When you are tired, looking forward to a bed, knowing that your sleep time will be limited, everything is liable to go wrong. It is times like these, when I am tired, when I am most prone to make mistakes. I considered my options carefully and selected the hotel closest to the airport to minimize the travel time back and forth. I was told in Harrisburg that I would need to retrieve my luggage in Chicago and recheck it the next morning. Baggage claim was a long walk, obscured by confusing signs, and discovered that it was not true. My bags were going to Portland without me. Had I known, I would have bought toothpaste and a toothbrush in Harrisburg. After a short bus shuttle ride, it took fifteen minutes to check into the hotel. First, because I did not have a reservation, the airline just sent my name, the desk clerk had to create one for me. When filling out the reservation, the clerk inadvertently made the reservation for the following year. But it took quite a bit of time for everyone to figure out why the system would not allow me to be checked in (because my reservation was for a year hence). Then, of course, as if fate was aligned against me, there were no toothbrushes at the from desk. They would send someone to the room with one. A short delay, but I thought I should wait until it arrived before I got undressed. The nice gentleman who delivered it did make me feel good by saying, “there you are young man.”

Even though not quite six hours of sleep, waking up meant a new day. After a quick shower, an email check, and a perusal of the news, I was back at the airport. Rather than waiting in line at a fast-food place and trying to find a corner to stand and juggle coffee in a paper cup with an overly sweet bakery item, I opted for a sit-down breakfast. I deserved it after the previous night. It was a decidedly American breakfast, even though the café touted itself as Tuscan. The server, a woman about my age, had a distinctly German accent, while Ella Fitzgerald’s version of “Ain’t Misbehavin” was playing in the background. Deciding when it is proper to remove one’s mask while eating is still weird. Nevertheless, coffee in a proper mug portends a new beginning. Optimism restored.