I’m back from the United Kingdom! And holy hell, what an ass-pain it was to get home. I had an incredible time at Goodwood, and we have plenty more good stuff coming about that, so please stay tuned. But I have to say, mostly due to the cruel, capricious whims of weather, who lately has liked to dump rain down all over me, partially flooding my basement and then showing me a rainbow or two so I’ll get all misty-eyed and forgive them, like some kind of serial abuser, this trip has been, um, challenging.
First, there was the strange set of weather-related circumstances that had me routed through the Bermuda Triangle, and that was after my original flight was cancelled, making me have to start the trip about 12 hours later.
But the worst part was what happened yesterday, as I was trying to get home. I flew from London into JFK in New York (you know, the airport named for Jeff Fucking Koons) and then was supposed to get a flight from JFK to my home-base airport at RDU. Sadly, though, cruel cruel weather conspired again, and not only was my flight cancelled, they couldn’t book me on any other flight until motherscratching Wednesday.
Wednesday.
Matt was a sweetie and offered to let me stay at his place just outside the city and feed me good food and all of that, and while I appreciated that, I just wanted to get home. I checked other airlines, trains, everything, and eventually finally found the answer, and it was a painful one: the bus.
Yes, the bus! There was a bus, for $80, less than what it would have cost to Uber to Matt’s place, that would leave at 10:00 pm and get me home by 7 in the morning. I bought a ticket, oddly curious about what the experience would be like.
Next thing I knew I was in Chinatown, in a tiny and kinda dingy waiting room with so much weed smoke in the air the ceiling fan was telling me how freaky it would be if the color red it saw was different than the color red I saw.
I mean, I’m not expecting much for $80, and really it’s fine, but the contrast between that environment and where I was about 24 hours before, when I was within elegant-gin-and-tonic-spitting distance of a literal Duke, was pretty jarring.
The biggest issue that I noticed with the cheap, last-minute bus experience I think has to do with information: finding out anything is a pretty chaotic process. Is the bus idling outside the one I’m supposed to get on? No idea, at least until finally someone yelled something about Indiana. So that wasn’t it.
Eventually, enough people seemed to be mentioning “Raleigh” so I got onto the plain white oddly generic bus that was probably headed to where I needed to go, and once on, it was generally clean and in decent condition so I can’t really complain about that.
It wasn’t easy to sleep on the bus at all, and the lack of communication still remained an issue: we stopped a few times, and it wasn’t clear if these were stop stops to let people out or just opportunities to walk out and pee? I’m still not sure.
Eventually, we arrived at my stop, which was not a bus depot or anything that I was expecting; it was a strangely desolate and maybe out-of-business shopping center. I had to look at the map on my phone for the address to know that this was, in fact, where I needed to be. If I didn’t realize that, I think I’d be in Georgia now.
What if I was asleep? Or confused? Or both?
Whatever. I’m home finally, and that’s what matters. And I’m thankful for that $80 overnight bus.
This was not an easy travel experience, but I can’t say it was horrible, exactly. Just you know, kinda shitty. I’m exhausted and dirty and cranky but I’m home, and that’s what matters. But I bet you have better stories, and I want to hear them! What kinds of misery have you had to endure after a trip just to get home?
Kvetch away!
The worst was years ago when our flight got canceled due to a snowstorm and my wife and I slept IN the airport at Chicago O’Hare. Hardly got any sleep. I’ve taken the bus before and it’s not too horrible. Usually they tell you at each stop “Oh, you have 15 minutes at this stop” (or they’ll leave your ass)
Getting caught out in the middle of a lake far from your home base when a thunderstorm pops up is not fun. They usually say to get on shore immediately, but avoid trees or open structures like gazebos. Sorry, I will take my chances on the lightning over breaking into someone else’s home in the south. You could try asking someone to let you come in, but that seems like the opening scene of a horror movie.
So that usually means beaching on an island and getting away from shore among the trees, hoping that is marginally safer than being on open water on an elevated metal structure.
JetBlue had just starting offering flights out of Albuquerque. Our perennial summer vacation is a trip to Syracuse to visit the Blushing Bride’s family, and the trip is always scheduled to include the weekend of the Syracuse Nationals auto show at the NY State Fairgrounds. Traveling between second-tier airports requires passing through a hub airport, so for many years, our best option was flying Delta through Atlanta. It also meant 6am departures both ways, and Delta’s ticket costs eventually reached mortgage-payment expenditures for a family of three. We decided to try JetBlue, flying into JFK and on to Rochester (the in-laws live in a bucolic hamlet halfway between the Syracuse and Rochester airports, so windshield time to Casa de Inlaws is a wash on the Thruway). Issue number one: JetBlue offers ONE trip per day to or from The Land of Enchantment to JFK. Issue number two: Summer thunderstorms. Issue number three: JetBlue is NEVER on time. Issue number four: JetBlue departs Albuquerque at 11:59 pm, well after all of the restaurants, bars and snack kiosks close up for the night. Our flight out is delayed until 3am, causing us to miss our flight to Rochester. They book us on another flight to Rochester in 6 hours. I strongly consider renting a car and driving, because I could probably get us to our destination in less time. I chose the flight, which I regretted later. Leaving Rochester for home, our flight to JFK is delayed for 4 hours, causing us to miss the ONLY flight back to Albuquerque for the day. At JFK, we discover that JetBlue had a major computer system failure affecting hundreds of flights. After standing in line for over 2 hours, we find out that we won’t be able to fly from JFK to Albuquerque for three days, even with JetBlue attempting to book us on other airlines. They tell us that we will be able to get our luggage and that they will reimburse our hotel stay. At this point, our Kiddo, who is 15 and a veteran traveler, bursts into tears and wails, “I’ll miss my doctor’s appointment!” The wonderful lady at the help desk, who is equally frazzled and who has been sorely abused by irate travelers, suddenly melts and says, “Oh, no! Is it urgent that they make this doctor’s appointment?” The Kiddo, picking up on this, immediately adopts a wan, frail appearance, opens up their starving puppy eyes and croaks, “Yes…” The woman than attacks her terminal with righteous zealous, looks at me and says, “If I can get you to Denver by 8 am tomorrow and get you a rental car, can you make the appointment?” I’ve driven between Denver and Albuquerque almost a hundred times, so the answer was, “You get us to Denver, I’ll get us to that appointment!” We book a room at the TWA hotel in JFK, I send the Blushing Bride and the Kiddo to the room, I order a drink at the bar, pour it into my soda cup, and hunker down next to the luggage carousel. Two hours later, our luggage pops up. I get two hours of sleep, we fly to Denver, pick up our one-way rental, a Nissan Rogue (to the world; to us, it was Torquemada’s Portable Torture Chamber) and spent the next 6 hours enduring granite-hard seats and the 4500 rpm drone of the engine and CVT combo. Since it was the first time in recorded history that there was no construction on I-25 in Colorado Springs, we made the appointment half an hour early. I then dropped the family off at the car in long term parking, they follow me go turn in the rental, and off to home and 25 hours of sleeping. The urgent doctor’s appointment? Sports physical for high-school athletics.