I Hate Flying

It’s been a very long 48 hours, but we are in Dublin! Of course, it was quite eventful getting here. 

I am going to skip our rendezvous in Chicago and get right to the good stuff. We did fly to Chicago using Southwest points and then we were headed to Europe from there. After boarding our SAS plane, there was about an hour delay due to weather, and Nic and I looked at each other knowing we would probably miss our 40 minute connection in Copenhagen. Not the end of the world, hopefully there would be another flight the same day. Once we were in the air for about 45 minutes, we hit some serious turbulence. There was a bit of a ruckus in the main cabin, especially after the captain came over the intercom, and in a not-so-confident voice said, “it seems we have hit a bit of turbulence. Really unexpected turbulence actually.  We’ll see what’s going on and hopefully be out of it soon.” I honestly thought I was going to be sick I was nervous. Nic held my hand and we were out of it in probably 15 minutes, but it felt like at least an hour. It was truly smooth sailing after that, but I was constantly thinking about if we would hit turbulence again which made the flight less than enjoyable.

We got two meals on the plane, and I think Nic and I slept for a couple hours. Before landing, the flight attendant told us where our connection was – it was going to be close, but we had a chance. After exiting the plane, we quickly started walking toward the gate. We didn’t run yet; I don’t think either of us actually thought we would make it, but when they made the final call for boarding our flight, we both took off like a pair of rockets. We were sweating when we got to our gate, and we were thrilled we had made it!

… that lasted a whole two and a half hours until we landed and found out Nic’s backpack didn’t make it. We weren’t even going to check the stupid backpack until the guy checking us in convinced us to. This is how it went:

Nic inquired if he needed to check the bag or not, and the check in guy, let’s just call him Jerry, said we could take all three of our backpacks as carry on if we wanted to (why we brought three instead of two is a long story I don’t feel like getting into right now). Nic explained that he kept a pocket knife in the one bag and wondered if that would be an issue when going through security.

Jerry: Oh yes. They won’t let that go through security.

Nic: Well, can I just throw it away?

Jerry: That would make you look even more suspicious. I would just check the bag. It’s free anyway!

So, we checked it. Dumb.

Alas, we bought some deodorant and a couple tshirts for Nic to don while we waited for someone at baggage claim services to call us and drop off the missing bag. I know, I know… why didn’t we put those in the bag we were carrying on? Because we weren’t planning on checking anything! It all happened so fast… I blame Jerry.

Oh my lanta! I wish this story ended there.

The latest we were supposed to get the bag was the next morning. Hahahahaha! In order to make any phone calls, I had to request to use the one at the front desk of the hostel, so that’s what I did next. I called the airport before a tour we were about to take in Dublin – only to find out if they were able to find it. I didn’t think it would actually be in Dublin yet – and had to leave a message because they apparently don’t believe in answering the phone. They never called. At 6pm, I requested to use the hostel phone again, called the airport and finally spoke to a real human. He said he was able to track the bag to an Aer Lingus flight that just got in (yay!) and he was going to find it and call me back within the next two hours.

You guessed it! The guy never called back. So what do I do? I call again. And again. And again. I lost track of how many times I redialed. They never answered. Those poop people who work at the hostel, and the poor people checking in. They had to think we were just a couple of crazy Americans. At this point, Nic and I look at each other and decide we need to just go to the airport because nothing is happening and this customer service is just not doing it for us. We just wanted to know if the bag is in Dublin or not because at this point we need to start planning for the rest of our trip. What do we do when we get to Berlin? What will the hostel do with a bag that gets delivered and is never claimed because we are no longer in the country to claim it? Will Nic ever get his own deodorant back?

After trying to find the bus stop that would take us back to the airport – I forgot the map in the hostel, so it was just a guessing game that felt more like insanity – we finally board the bus at about 9:10pm.

We get to the airport. We go to Dublin Airport Information Services. They tell us to call baggage inquiries using one of the phones nearby. I call. Someone answers. Yes.

Our bag is in Terminal 2, and they are not allowed to bring it to us in Terminal 1. No.

We walk over to Terminal 2 where there is another phone for us to call Aer Lingus. It rings and rings and rings, for about five minutes,and a lady finally answers, and after cutting me off a million times while I try to give her our reference number, she tells us to go through the staff doors and someone will meet us. Yes!

We go through these eerie doors into a corridor that is clearly the home of all the behind the scenes activities of airports. It was a bit creepy. Quiet. A man pops his head out and tells us one only of us can come in. WTF.

At this point, all I can think about is, please don’t take Nic and murder him while similtsneously praying I won’t get “Taken”. The guy tells me I need to go back through be doors and wait for Nic outside he staff area. I ask why I can’t just wait for him where I am and am told that Nic won’t come back that way. WHY?? Where are you taking him??

About five minutes later, Nic texts me. Thank goodness for airport wifi. Turns out he did come out a completely different way, but he has his bag! Whew… what a strange experience.

Nic’s take —

About our flight to Chicago – Within thirty seconds of getting her Diet Coke on our flight to Chicago, Amanda spilled her drink all over the plane.

About the missing bag – I’m so pissed at myself for not putting my toiletries bag in the carry on bag.

About the toiletries we bought in Dublin – I gave Amanda the bag with the deodorant and a toothbrush I bought and she set it down and lost it 10 minutes later.

About his new deodorant – I smell weird. I’ve used the same deodorant since I was 12, and now my armpits don’t know what to do with themselves.

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