And so after a restless night of vacillating between how to vengefully finagle British Airways into giving us compensatory travel vouchers, suppressing the irritational fears that carrying on with this fateful vacation would lead us to landing at the bottom of the Atlantic Ocean, and your garden-variety giddy popstar-crush excitement, we finally boarded the plane; our first grand trip to Europa was (well?) under way.
FUN FACT. The direct flight from Seattle to London’s Heathrow Airport is not a straight shot across the continental US, as one would think (or at least what travel vloggers on youtube like to illustrate). It is in fact an arched trajectory that crosses much of northern Canada and grazes the bottoms (my attempt at cheeky English humour!) of Greenland and Iceland. And how can I speak with such certainty? The little onboard entertainment screen on the back of the seat of the passenger that decided to recline wayyy back told me so.
9 hours. More than a third of a day. The physician-recommended number of hours of sleep everywhere, except upright in coach class on an air-conditioned plane barreling through the dark north Atlantic sky.
What happens when your flight is delayed by a few hours and you need to make your connecting flight? Well, naturally, you qualify for the US National Olympic Track Team; your expertise, hurdles. You also learn to allay your guilt by silently apologizing to yourself at near collisions with other passengers simply lounging about as you make your way down the concourse. Can they not see the urgency on your face?
But what happens if your flight is delayed by nearly a day because of the airline’s ineptitude? Shouldn’t we get priority boarding on the flight to our final destination? Shouldn’t we be treated like English royalty at this point? Why is this scullery maid-cum-gate agent speaking to me in that (stern albeit delightful) tone of voice?
I wish I could say that I felt europeaness wash over me the moment the plane door opened. But that would be an outright lie. Our first steps onto European soil were rather anticlimactic, disappointing even. Heathrow is a disjointed airport (unfortunately, by design). You take a bus that meanders between the separate free-standing terminals. This becomes frustratingly apparent as you wait impatiently for the bus doors to close at yet another Terminal 5 stop. Sheer agony.
So it seems there may not be any available seats on the next flight to Vienna, she says politely. Perhaps you may want to wait at the gate in case some come free? It is obvious she has mastered this so-sorry-to-disappoint-you face. Frantic speedwalking ensues. I apologize but you may not go beyond this security point without your newly-issued ticket. Please return to the ticketing desk. But she just said we could…ok, nevermind…we’ll go back.
Same ticket agent, this time a wide smile on her face. Here are the tickets for your confirmed flight! Please refer to the departure board for gate information 30 minutes prior to boarding.
It looks like we will have some time to burn. Fish and chips anyone?.
Hold on. Hold on. Let me get this straight. We have to somehow instinctively know which direction to run and which bus to catch to make it in time for our flight the moment a gate number appears on the departure board? Yes, thank you and have a lovely day. How we ever managed to make it on time to the right gate is still a mystery. Bob disagrees.
This was wayyy back in the day (2010) when international cellphone plans were outrageously expensive (I’m talking to you Verizon) so pay phones were the only alternative. Imagine the fun of trying to find one in this unfamiliar labyrinth of cavernous duty-free shops, crowded food courts, and multiple terminal buildings. Poor Peter and Traude. How many 50-minute trips did they have to make back and forth between Wiener Neustadt and Vienna International Airport.
I think we might be able to catch a standby flight to Vienna at mid-morning. Wait. Make that noon. Actually. There’s another standby arriving closer to 3:30PM now. Nope. Not that one either. 6PM. They are certain we will be landing around 6PM.
TRAVEL TIP: I am not trying to be spiteful despite our little debacle. But unless you are visiting the United Kingdom (England, Northern Ireland, Ireland, Scotland) avoid the British airports. Heathrow and Gatwick have notoriously high airport taxes, even if you are only just connecting there.
