Traveling is a Mixed Bag!

Travel is fun and interesting and outrageously difficult and boring all at the same time. Like the title says: a mixed bag. Especially when traveling by air.

I am at I-Fest this week. That’s the International Festival of Puppetry and Ventriloquism, hosted by One Way Street. It’s outside Chicago- and it was a “planes, trains and automobiles” experience in getting here. Here a couple of the mixed bag experiences I had:

In bed at 2 AM after finishing my packing.

Up at 4 AM to get out of the house in time to get to the airport two hours before my flight time.

Leave the house at 5:15 AM- no real traffic to speak of- but it still takes about 50 minutes to get to the airport.

For some unbelievable reason, I decided to park in Economy parking, which means I rolled (dragged) my luggage (the largest suitcase known to mankind, plus the second largest and my briefcase and laptop computer bag) from approximately Macon, Georgia to the terminal.

I enter the terminal at the complete opposite end compared to where I am trying to go. At this point, the shoulder straps of my two carry on pieces are trying to draw blood from my shoulders.

When I see the line at American Airlines, I cannot believe it. It’s approximately 6:25 AM and the self-service lines are so congested, I can see it’s going to be extremely difficult to navigate around them to get to the regular ticket lines, with my over-sized luggage. BTW- I have nothing from One Way Street but an e-mail of my flight times. No flight #, confirmation #- nothing. So, needless to say, it makes me a little nervous as I stand in line. However, everything was OK with the ticket agent- and I got through that line pretty quickly. The main thing was I got rid of my two gigantic suitcases!

Next stop: security. As I turned from the ticket counter, I saw the line went pretty far beyond the staunchions which were to contain the travelers- but I didn’t think it was so long I would miss my plane. To my horror, when I got to what I assumed was the end of the line, there was an American Airlines employee waving us down a hallway, around the corner and way, way down the next hallway. I literally could not believe it. If you know the Atlanta airport, I was standing in the security line for T Gates and we were so far back, we could see into the A-E Gates security lines- which  is very far away from the T Gates. Well, at this point, I knew I would not be able to make my flight. However, to my surprise and due to the efforts of yelling TSA emplyees, the cooperation of travelers quickly getting nearly undressed in public in the security lines, then twice through the security “buzzer”, I actually made it through in 45 minues. Enough time left to get an egg and cheese biscuit from Burger King (I was starving!), gulp it down and get onboard.

Here’s the next thing I love about traveling, getting on the plane without knocking someone over the head with your carry-ons. And then actually getting to your correct seat so you can finally breathe a sigh of relief for having accomplished such an effort-filled ordeal and relax. On no…that was not to be for me on this trip! I got to my seat, 18A, and there was an older woman, not originally from the US, I think- sitting in my seat. I told her she was in my seat, allowing her a view of my boarding pass which clearly showed 18A as my seat- but she would not get up. At the urging of the other passengers around us, I pushed the call button and moments later, a flight attendant appeared by my side. Quickly sizing up the situation by looking at both of our boarding passes, the flight attendant determined the woman had incorrectly sat down in my seat because on the next leg of her trip, Chicago to Rochester, she was already assigned to 18A.  For the Atlanta to Chicago trip, however- that was my seat!!

Now, here’s the part that gets a little “dumber.” Rather than just ushering the woman to her correct seat as shown on her boarding pass, the flight attendant said he would have the head flight attendant take care of this matter. So, while I am standing up, virtually in the aisle, trying to make myself as skinny and unnoticeable as possible, passengers are doing their best to get by without plowing into me. I finally go stand in front of an empty seat so as to get out of the aisle. I’m sure the guy I was standing next to for about 10 minutes straight was not too appreciative. By this time, everyone has boarded the plane, the woman is still sitting in my seat, and I am still standing in front of an empty seat which is not mine (now that  think about it, it was probably the woman’s seat.) Regardless, the head flight attendant finally comes down the aisle and is very disturbed with me. Where is your boarding pass, he demands of me. It was in his hand- which I pointed out- but he didn’t look at it. Instead, he told me to move to 12F which was a window seat. Well- I didn’t want to move to 12F. I don’t like window seats. I like aisles- which is what I had requested and received except now an elderly, foreign, stubborn woman is sitting in it, watching this whole little drama between me and the flight attendant unfold. Not to mention she had watched me standing in front of her for the past ten minutes. I told the flight attendant I didn’t want to move to 12F- but what was wrong with the aisle seat in front of which I was still standing- just one row ahead of my real seat of 18A. Oh no, this flight attendant (also foreign) could not understand that concept. He was insistent I move. I kindly, told him I was not going to sit in a window seat and if this plane was going to leave on time, he would have to let me sit in the seat I was standing in front of. Well. He did not like that. So, for some reason, that made him decide to move the woman after all. Of course, this was unnecessary- and I didn’t want this elderly woman to have to move several rows up and crawl over two other passengers in order to get into 12F. As I tried to explain the solution of leaving her where she was and letting me sit in the seat where I was still standing, even other passengers around us chimed in. Finally, the Head Flight Attendant, relented, although I think without understanding of how/why that arrangement would work. The rest of the flight went without a hitch, I guess. I wouldn’t know- beause I slept the whole way. I guess they served and cleaned up the beverages without my even waking up. I hope I didn’t snore!

Finally, we landed in Chicago, and the next order of business was collecting my luggage and figuring out how to get my rental car. The Chicago airport is having the unique privilege of remodeling the entire baggage area. What a mess! And what difficulty it made in trying to get on the rental car shuttle bus. Due to the construction, there was no real way for the shuttle to pull into the proper pick-up area. We customers had to drag our luggage a long distance to get to our appropriate shuttle, or get on in the middle of the street with traffic honking and swerving around to get past. Remember I’ve got all this incredibly heavy luggage strapped around me again. I am beyond glad when my luggage is finally loaded on the Hertz shuttle and I can sit down and relax for the short six minute ride. Fast forward to after man-handling my luggage off the shuttle and getting to the rental counter. After clicking around on her computer keyboard for a couple of minutes, the person behind the counter asks me how to spell my last name. Oh-oh. That usually only spells trouble. Of course, she could not find my reservation, but I had had the foresight to have my printed reservation nearby. I whipped that thing out so she could easily look up my reservation. To my horror, she uttered one, two syllable word: Avis.  I was standing at the Hertz counter, to which I been brought 5 miles away from the airport via Hertz shuttle and now this clerk uttered two syllables that struck terrror into my heart.

Well, what could I do, but wait for another shuttle to come back to Hertz on his way to the aiport. I dragged my luggage back onto his shuttle, back to the airport and then got off in a completely dfferent area of the airport from which I had originally started and hoped and prayed an Avis shuttle would appear. One did eventually, and once again, I took the six minute ride- only this time to Avis. Well, at Avis, the line for car rentals snaked all the way through their lobby and outside. That did not look like a good sign to me- which it was not. Approximately 45 minues later, with shoulders to prove I had too much luggage with me- I finally dragged myself and the luggage towards a very nice SUV, got into it, checked my maps and got on the road. It is now approximately 10:30 AM Central time. I have been trying to get here from Atlanta since 4 AM Eastern time- and I am still one and a half hours by car from my destination.

Actually, there are no more snares or foul-ups to report. I made it to Olivet Nazarene University in Bourbannaise, Illinois without any further problems. There was lots to do  when I arrived- but at least I was there!!

More on I-Fest to come…