OffTheHoox.com

Why did I think that my travels would get any easier? In fact it went completely the other way. I really have had loads of shitty luck when it came to getting on flights.

I could just leave it at that but that would be completely out of character and just not Hoox.

The only consolation to the whole fiasco is that I am now writing this from a fully reclining seat in business class on Air France flight 038. I eventually made it so there is a happy ending

For the complete Rant & Rave, click for more.

Today (being Friday the 7th March) started with me in a very good mood. I awoke early in my nice hotel room, had a good hot shower and got ready with time to spare so I sat in a very comfortable reception after checking out and waited for a taxi while admiring the decor.

The taxi arrived and not long afterwards we pulled up at the international departures of Lisbon airport. There was a slight chill in the air when I got out the cab but I knew that before long I would be sipping a cup of coffee before boarding my flight to Paris. I checked in, dumped my bag and went through security.

So far so good.

The flight landed slightly late but it was ok because I knew that I had a fair bit of time before my next flight on Air France took off. Still there was no time to waste. I scurried along trying to find the Air France check in desks and this is where the wheels started to come off. I could feel my patience wearing thinner with each wheel nut that came loose. Do you think I could find my way? Do they assume that everyone carries a map of the airport, a crystal ball or should just instinctively know how to get around. The signage in Charles de Gaul is the worst I have ever had to deal with simply because it is non existent. All it does is point to more gates.

I was in transit and I couldn’t find any reference to this at all. I eventually found my way through to an open common area and asked the customs police where to go. He directed me outside, upstairs to go downstairs, out through some doors and turn left to come back in and and and … Hell, I don’t know but by then I was already lost. I managed the first few bits of his directions which was good enough to get me to what looked to be an information counter.

It turns the flight I thought I was on didn’t exist and but there was a similar flight on Continental which must have been it. I was now in Terminal 1 and had to get to Terminal 2. I got on a shuttle train. This is where I really started losing my sense of humour. This airport is the most screwed up design I have ever seen and I think I have seen my fair share of airport terminals. From Terminal 1 you have to go through a parking lot, then Terminal 3 and yet another parking lot to get to Terminal 2. Once in Terminal 2 it is split further into subsections A, B, C, D, E. Turn left to get to B or D and turn right to get to A, C or E. WHY?? Now these terminals are big. I was running. I am sure they could make these places a little smaller if they removed the shopping centre from them. I must have run past 20 coffee and bagel shops in a desperate effort to get to to the check in section I needed which of course was the last one all the way at the end. It didn’t help that most of the public walking around in there think that the moving travelators are to stand on and stop walking. THAT DEFEATS THE POINT YOU SILLY PEOPLE! They move slower than you can walk!

I made it to the Continental counter puffing and wheezing and some cocky French security said. Soggee but zis flight iz clooosed. (Sorry but this flight is closed). I looked up and it said that it closed only in 40 minutes time. I pointed at the screen and he mumbled something took my passport and disappeared through a door. Although confused, I went ahead anyway and told them to start checking me in and since I had no bag to check it shouldn’t be that difficult. The cocky Frenchman reappeared and I got my passport back. Then the machine broke so I was directed to another desk. I asked about the possibility of upgrading to business class and this really ugly French chick with teeth longer than Bugs Bunny said with this tight lipped, sour face, almost defiant expression, “eets going to cost you 5 souzand Eeuroo”. Fuck that!

I got my boarding card and did the million yard dash to the gate through more sections of this stupid airport that doesn’t make any sense. I get asked the typical gazillion questions that you get asked when travelling to States like, where you are staying, why you are going, who are you seeing, what do you do, how long have you done it, what you ate for breakfast 2.3 weeks ago, shoe size, full DNA coding, and a promise to deliver your first born to INS. Finally I get to the boarding gate where I just smile and say, “At least the shit is all over with. I am here and there’s no turning back”.

WRONG!

I get asked for my ticket. I tell them I have no ticket since it’s an e-ticket. They said it’s a paper ticket. I stressed it was an e-ticket. The guy disappears with my boarding pass and passport. I wish they would stop doing that! It’s quite rude. When he comes back I hear the fateful words: “Without a ticket you cannot get on the plane”. Hello Fury. Yeah Fury returned like a fucking sledge hammer travelling on greased lightning and with a vengeance. “YOU HAVE MY FUCKING BOARDING CARD. HOW COULD I HAVE GOT A FUCKING BOARDING CARD WITHOUT A FUCKING TICKET?”. “Zat eez not my pgobleem”. This continued for a little while and by now I am attracting the attention of multiple security guards. “WHERE ARE MY BAGS??”, “I Don’t know”. “WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU DONT KNOW???”. The rude bitch who is the supervisor then turns her back to me and ignores me. This isn’t going well at all. People are now glaring at me. I bite the bullet and walk away before I get carried away in handcuffs. You see, sense does prevail from time to time.

Now my fight is with TAP (Air Portugal) who screwed up this booking, this flight and my day. Guess where they are? Correct! Terminal 1. I HATE THIS BLOODY AIRPORT! It takes me forever to hump my way all the way back to Terminal 1.

The woman at TAP was useless. The kind of job creation monkey that knows how to stare at a screen and mash the keyboard occasionally. She just kind of sat there mumbling some shit in French and banging away on her computer. Then she looks up and says “Are you sure you don’t have a paper ticket?”. “LISTEN WOMAN, DO YOU REALLY THINK I WOULD BE WASTING MY TIME AND BREATHE WITH YOU IF I HAD A TICKET? DONT YOU THINK I WOULD HAVE BEEN ON THAT GOD DAMNED FLIGHT RIGHT NOW IF YOU PEOPLE HAD GIVEN ME A BLOODY TICKET!??”. “It was just a question” she mumbled. “Yeah not a very clever one was it now?”. I was furious!

I am now also on the phone to my travel agent ranting and raving and bitching at how stupid this airport is and that I understand now why all the English hate the French so much. Silly TAP women didn’t even register that was talking about her. I really was losing the plot. I was now yelling over the phone, “Just get me out of this shithole dump airport. I am NOT sleeping in France tonight, I don’t care WHAT it takes!!!”. He manages to get me on a later flight on Air France direct to Houston. Success. I think. I now ask silly TAP woman, “Where’s my BAG?” She mumbles that she doesn’t know. SO I give her my bag slip and tell her to find it then. She can’t locate it. Surprise surprise!

Now it’s me against the silly French airport. I can only imagine that my bag has attempted to make it to Terminal 2 where the Continental flight departed. I hump it all the way back. Now I have a dilemma. I am on the wrong side of security without a valid boarding pass and I have to get to the bag carrousel. I ask the police if I can pass. He says that I can’t. So I tell him to go and get my bag for me. The look in his eyes told me not so politely that it wasn’t going to happen. So I grab my passport and my expired boarding pass back off him and storm back down the queue. I find the arrivals gate where people are coming through. I eyeball the doors with the big fat no-entry signs. That’s my only way in. Fortunately I see an Information Counter and go and ask what I can do. She says I’m not allowed in there. I explain my predicament and she still insists I am not allowed in there. I tell her that the next time those doors open I am going to make a run for it. She shakes her head and smiles and says “Then you will be arrested and you will stay in France longer than you expected”. I begged her and eventually she gave me some sort of permission slip. I didn’t bother reading it cos as she gave it to me the doors opened and I bolted through them the wrong way. I am inside!! Shit. Now I am on the wrong side of customs. I look around and there are two security guards bearing down on me. Shit shit shit. After a few minutes of trying to explain the ordeal I am currently living, I think they got bored and saw I was no threat and let me through.

I find the Continental luggage desk. I ask about my bag. This now really rude, really inconsiderate, stupid French bitch says, “Your bag isn’t here”. “HOW THE HELL DO YOU KNOW? YOU HAVEN’T EVEN LOOKED AT THE TICKET NUMBER!!!. “It’s not here!” “WELL CAN YOU PLEASE AT LEAST JUST PRETEND THAT YOU GIVE A SHIT AND HAVE A LOOK?” “The bag can take 45 minutes between terminals” “I HAVE BEEN HERE ALMOST 3 HOURS!”

I was getting nowhere fast with this ditsy bitch. Eventually her colleague comes out and asks what the problem is. It seems I was disturbing her in the back office. I explained as calmly as humanly possible my entire situation. I think she got bored too, or scared when she saw the veins on my head damn near explode, and started yelling at ditsy bitch as well who now picked up the phone and made a few enquiries. After describing my bag to them with every detail including my old black with orange stripes school tie (Queens College), that I had tied to it years ago to easily identify it, it seems it was just downstairs and I swear to God within  60 seconds it was rolling down the carrousel. I had my entire speech planned for ditsy bitch but I was running out of time rapidly so instead I just made a point of thanking the other woman profusely for HER help when OTHERS weren’t prepared to!

Now I was running late for yet another flight. Air France. Fortunately it is in the same terminal although its just all the way over on the other side. No problem, I have my bag on a trolley, I have an e-ticket and without a care in the world I went charging through the airport half knocking people out the way. I got to the Air France desk and he starts shaking his head. I just said, “Please don’t do that. I really can do with a spot of good news around about now”. He then went on to explain that he couldn’t check me in because I two reservations on this flight. Silly TAP woman took it on her own to book me on this flight at the same time my travel agent on the phone was doing the same. After a bit of banter and explaining that one way or another I WILL be on that flight and I WILL sleep in Houston tonight he said, “Ok, we have one booking in economy and one in business class, which do you want to cancel?” I just smiled and said, “Where do YOU think I would prefer to sit?” He laughed and said “Business it is then sir”. He called me sir. I smiled.

After he gave me a boarding pass, some reassurance that I would not require a ticket with it and an invitation to the business lounge, I figured most of my woes were over. My bag was checked in and I took a slow walk back through security, back through duty free and went and sat in the business lounge feeling drained and although I ended up victorious, was it really worth the battle? I felt broken. I wanted to quit this life. To hell with it.

I am now sitting on the plane in a reclining seat that doubles for a bed if you hold this little button down long enough. I have just had 2 glasses of good red wine, a little snack and am feeling somewhat sleepy. I am at 36000ft and will be for the next 8 hours or so I now aim to make the most of this little button.

Travel is glorious in hindsight!

Goodnight…

– Posted later from my hotel room in Houston. I made it!