If you're interested, I've uploaded pictures from Spain.
Wednesday morning, we got up really early (after going to bed pretty late) to head to the airport. Since it was rush hour, there was a lot of traffic, so I was worried about getting to the airport on time. We got there with plenty of time to spare, which was good since it took forever to check our luggage.
Because it was so early in the morning, I didn't really check the boarding pass from Paris. I remember it saying boarding time was something :25. Since we landed at 12:30, I figured it was 2:25. We stopped at the bathroom and then continued to our gate. On the way I checked the boarding pass and realized it said 12:25, so we started running. As we got to security, the screen still said our plane was boarding. April and I were told to go in two different security lines to scan our carry-on. I got through fine (no one even noticed the Epi-Pen this time, which still out of my bag in a ziploc), but April was waiting. She said the guards were too busy talking to check her luggage. When she started telling them that the flight was boarding, I guess they didn't understand why she was so upset, so they decided to pat her down. After they obviously didn't find anything, we started running to our gate.
There is construction going on at CDG, so instead of boarding the plane from the gate, you have to take a bus from the terminal to the plane. Well, we got to the gate just as they were closing the door and putting up the rope. The bus was still there, so I just started going under the rope. Well, they started flipping out at me. We tried to explain that we had just gotten off a flight from Spain and needed to get on that plane. Well, they told us to go see this guy that walking toward us. We figured that he'd look at our boarding passes and let us on. NO. He just told us to go see customer service.
While we were there trying to get on another flight, two other people (from two different flights) had missed the flight to Philly because the connection times were too short. When April asked the customer services agent if this happened a lot, he said, "all the time." If I ran a business, I would try to space out the flights just a little bit so that people made their flights for two reasons: a) So that I don't have to worry about finding them another flight that day or paying for a hotel for the night; and b) So that the customers are happy and use my airline next time they had to fly. Air France apparently does not feel that way.
We were given the following options: Take a flight from Paris to Philly the same time the next day, or fly to JFK in a couple and then wait another couple hours to fly to Philly, arriving around 10:30 PM. We went with option B (I had to go to work, since I'd be off all week and then was taking half a day Friday). Since it was such a short layover, I decided it wouldn't be worth it to beg my dad to come pick us up in New York (I really wish I was more selfish and had). They did give us a small (emphasis on small) drink for our inconvenience.
Since we hadn't really eaten, we decided to buy something at the airport. It wasn't great, but it was better than Spanish food. Yes, French Airport food is better than Spanish restaurant food.
When we got on the plane, we were in the center section that had 4 seats across (we were supposed to be by the window where it would just be us two) in the front row of the section. The only good thing was that we weren't the two middle seats. These were the crappiest seats on the damn plane. First of all, since there is not a seat in front of us, all the carry-on luggage as to go in the over-head. That wasn't that big of a deal, but do you know what these seats are used for? BABIES. Yes, the tiny little people that no one wants to be on a plane with. We were stuck next to them. Do you know what's worse than being on a plane sitting next to a crying baby?
Go ahead guess...
Really, try....
Being a turbulent flight with at least two crying babies, one of whom's mother kept getting sick, so you have to hold/watch the crying kid. I'm not exaggerating.
When we got on the plane, the lady asked April to hold the baby while she got situated, which was fine, especially when she told us that the kid hadn't cried on the flight over. At some point during the flight, the mother developed a migraine and had to keep running to the bathroom to be sick. On a normal flight, this wouldn't be too much of a problem, because their is a bassinet that the baby can stay in. However, when there is turbulence, the baby is supposed to be strapped in to the mother's seat belt. So, mom's puking, the plane is rocking, the baby's crying, and the flight attendants are freaking out that the baby is not strapped in. So, April takes the kid and the seat belt and straps her to her own seat belt. Then the mom comes back and takes her kid, the flight comes down, so she puts the baby in the bassinet. Then she gets sick again, the turbulence kicks in, the kid starts crying, the flight attendants freak out, etc. You get the idea. And this happened quite a few times during the 7hr flight.
The only good part of the whole flight was that I got to watch "The Break Up," which was hilarious.
So, we finally get to America and go to baggage claim (the luggage was switched in Paris, so we didn't have to get it). Two of the suitcases were right next to each other, so we weren't too hopeful about the third piece, but we waited for awhile to check. After it was clear that there was no new suitcases being loaded onto the conveyor belt, we spoke with an employee that had a piece of paper saying that April's suitcase never got on the plane. Our theory was of course that they had never taken it off the flight from Paris to Philly (which is completely illegal b/c luggage is not supposed to be on the plane if the passenger is not). She told us that we would have to talk to Delta (that's what were taking from JFK to Philly), when we got to Philly.
Air France took the remaining luggage and were going to put on the Delta flight (I figured we loose another piece by the time we got home), and then we had to go to the Delta terminal to get our boarding passes. While the lady was printing them, I explained our situation and asked if there was anyway Delta could provide a bus or a car (since there were 4 passengers trying to get to Philly), she said that since it was Air France that caused the problem, we'd have to talk to them. Not wanting to miss another flight especially since I figured they wouldn't help us, we just decided to head to the terminal and I'd call from there. Before we headed toward the gate, we wanted to make sure we didn't have to run to catch it, we told the flight was on time, but we wouldn't have a problem making it (we had about 2 hours).
At security, we got patted down again, and I had forgotten to take the water bottle (the free one from Paris) out of my bag, but luckily, they just threw it out without giving me the third degree.
By the time we got to our gate (which was 5-10 minutes after getting our boarding passes), our flight had been delayed from 7:30 to 9pm due to fog. Still not worth calling my dad and begging for a ride, since it would take him 2 hours to get there.
I tried calling Air France to see if they'd pay for a bus ticket/cab ride anything. The woman told me there was nothing she could do, so I asked to speak with a manager. She said he'd tell me the same thing, but I still wanted to speak to one. After insisting a few times, she finally agreed to transfer me. But instead she hung up on me. I was beyond pissed (which reminds me, I need to write that airline a nasty letter).
Since we were starving (the plane food sucked) we got some expensive, but good food. I was going to get a beer, but then I remembered that I was back in America and couldn't leave the bar with it.
After eating, we went back to the gate to see that the flight time had been bumped to 11. Freakin' great. Then a little while later, it got bumped to 2:30. It was then that I went and asked that if the flight was canceled, would we be bussed to Philly. The person I asked did not know. My dad had also been calling Air France and Delta and inquiring about a bus.
Finally, around 11:30PM (keep in mind I had been awake since 6:30 European time, which was about 12:30 the night before EST), a Delta employee says she's trying to get a bus, because if we wait for the plane, the crew might time out and we'd have to spend the night. Somehow, having to spend the night NYC seemed worse than Paris, since it's so close to home. Some people must be really bad at geography because they were upset about this prospect. After telling them the bus ride would only be about 2 hours (the flight would be 1.5 hours), they agreed.
By 2:30 AM we had gotten to Philly Int'l. By 3, I was home and still starving. After having some food and chatting with my dad, I finally got to sleep around 4:30 (more than 12 hours after I was originally supposed to get home), only to be woken up by my alarm 2 hours later. I knew it was going to be a long day work.
In the morning, my manager called me into his office. I was really expecting him to offer me a job. Instead, he told me that the women I was filling in for had returned. He had spoke with people higher up in the company and gotten permission for me to stay longer, and he'd keep me updated.
So that was my lovely Wed-Thurs. It would have been great if I could have relaxed all weekend, but I had to go to Convention. I was particularly grateful that it was within driving distance after my flying adventure.
Thursday, during the evening rush hour, there were all kinds of train issues in DC/Baltimore, not to mention that on the way down to convention, one of my friends was in a car accident.
I was worried about DC traffic since I knew I would be leaving until 4 or 5. I didn't think I had to worry about Upper Darby/Philly traffic. Heather H. was supposed to go with us and class until 4 ish. I had tried to get a hold of her for a couple days, but she did not reply to my im, email, or call. I finally found out from Jason around 5 that she was not coming.
I left my house shortly after 5 and headed to Philly through UD to Chestnut St. since I didn't want to take 95 during rush hour. Well, about 2 blocks before getting to Chestnut, the road was blocked, I finally got to Market, but traffic there was moving at the speed of a Special Olympic Hurdler, so I only managed to go a half a block in half an hour. I turned around and went down some random side street. I wasn't really sure where I was going, but I was on Lancaster Ave, and the street numbers where getting smaller, so I figured I was headed in the right direction. Luckily, I was. So, 2 1/2 hours later, I finally got to Philly to pick up Brothers. Luckily, 'cause I think I may have really gone insane otherwise, the traffic to DC was not bad at all. By the time we checked into the hotel, it was around 10:30...
