Returning Home

Another gorgeous day in Germany, and I was sorely tempted to "miss" my flight.  But, alas, all good things must run their courses and so my trip must, too.

I packed my bags, double-checked my room, sighed, and left for the airport.

Got there in plenty of time, which turned out to be a good thing.  I went through security, which took some time, but you didn't have to remove your shoes.  Breezed through passport control.  My usual course of action, after security, is to find my gate, make sure everything is as it should be, then find food.  Well, to my surprise there was a second complete security screening before you could enter the gate area, even though I had gone through a thorough screening five minutes earlier and was presumably already in a secure area.  Once in the gate area there was no food or drink to be had.

Flight left 40 minutes late. A big 767 with a 2-3-2 seat configuration.  I was in a two, and I had a row mate.  He was a French guy who smelled really bad.  Nine and a half hours later, the plane was put into a holding pattern near my intermediate stop, Newark Liberty Airport, because of severe thunderstorms affecting all traffic arriving and departing the airport.  After about a half hour of circling, the pilot came on over the PA and announced that we were being diverted to Stewart Air Force Base because we were running out of fuel.  Swell.  At least I didn't notice the fetid odor of my row mate anymore.

We landed at the air force base, taxied to a far corner of it, and waited for about 40 minutes while we took on some fuel.  We taxied back to the runway and were #1 for takeoff (there wasn't really any other traffic at the base) when the pilot came back on to say that all traffic to and from Newark had been "ground-stopped" due to further T-storms and that it would be another 30 minutes or so before we would resume travel.

Finally back in the air, we dodged some more T-storms and finally made it to Newark, 2 hours late (that was after having caught up the 40 minutes deficit we started with during the flight over the Atlantic).  My connection to Manchester, NH was thankfully delayed, too, so I still had some time to clear passport control and customs before it took off.  Thank goodness I didn't check any bags, which allowed me to be among the first to go through customs.

Made it through customs without issue.  Found my gate for the Manchester leg of the trip.  The flight was no longer delayed, it had been canceled.  Lovely.  Several other flights had been canceled, too, so the line at the customer service desk was worse than Disney during Spring Break, and without the sly animatronics and interesting things to look at.  That got me thinking -- couldn't the airlines adopt a Fast Pass system like the rides at Disney for their customer service counters?  I was starving (last food was a smallish sandwich and a piece of chocolate on the plane a few hours earlier) but I didn't dare leave my place in line.

It took more than 90 minutes to get to the service desk.  No more flights to Manchester for the day on any airline.  Two flights to Boston, but both were fully booked.  It was about 6:00 PM at that point.  There was a 7 PM to Boston and a 9:00 PM, and I could try for standby on either or both.  Neither was looking too good, according to the service representative, though she did tell me that fewer people had already checked in for the 7 PM.  I had jumped into the line reasonably early, so I would be relatively high up on the standby list.  I rolled the dice on the 7 PM and took the hotel list the representative also offered to me just to be safe.

Well, the 7 PM was then delayed until 8:40 PM.  I was dragging by this point, having been up for about 21 hours, and having deliberately not slept much on the plane to help assuage the effects of let lag when I got home.  It was a fight to stay awake waiting for the boarding announcement and to see if I would get a seat.  The plane started boarding at about 8:50 PM.  Wonder-of-wonders my name was called and I got a seat.  I think that's because I had checked in really early with the cute gate representative and I played really nice without overacting.  It's the clerks who really run the world.

The plane finally took off at about 9:30, after the airline made sure every single seat was full -- it took them an extraordinarily long time to do it, with several trips by representatives through the cabin to look for empty seats.  Makes me wonder what the computer system is for.

I had been in periodic contact with my Dad to keep him advised of my status.  He was my ride from the airport and he was gracious about having to drive into Boston instead of to Manchester.  The plane pulled into the gate at Logan at a little after 11 PM, thanks to a couple of delays on the tarmac.

My dad, and my mom, too (I had expected her originally, but I figured it was too late at this point, with her having to be in school early the next day) picked me up at the arrivals curbside and we headed to their place where my car had been stashed.  My mom, bless her, had been thoughtful enough to bring a drink for me to guzzle down on the ride back to Lowell.

From Lowell I drove straight home, without even using the bathroom first.  Ear to pillow at 1:31 AM on Friday, 9/30.

Probably one more post, as a summation of the experience, to follow.