 |
| View from our Room |
Ron and I arrived at the Chicago O'Hara Airport about 3
½ hours early for our flight to Frankfurt—we looked at the
departure listings to ensure our flight was on time. We were
shocked to find out the flight was canceled. Lufthansa canceled all
flights for the day due to a last-minute pilot strike. We were not
notified.
We knew immediately that it wasn't going to be easy to
find another flight. It was already late in the day and we were one
of the hundreds of passengers attempting to reschedule Lufthansa flights
to Europe. In addition, it was the start of Labor Day weekend and
most flights were fully booked.
We booked our flight through United Airlines so we
immediately went to the United counter (not much of a line).
Unfortunately, the agent told us she could not help because we were
using points to travel, she gave us a number to call. We weren't
happy, but we had no choice but to make the call and to be put on
hold.
As we waited on hold, we headed over to Lufthansa. The
agent informed us that all the flights were full and we'd have to
wait at least two days to get a flight. She gave us a hotel and food
voucher for the night, which we appreciated, and sent us back to
United.
At the United counter, we found another agent that was
extremely helpful. We told her we needed to depart as soon as
possible and that we were open to any destination in Europe. After a long
search and help from a colleague, she found a flight to Houston the
next morning with a connection to Amsterdam. It was reassuring to
know that we only had carry-on bags. The next day we were on the
early flight to Houston (middle seats) and a five-hour layover before
departing for Amsterdam.
After a sleepless night on the plane, we finally arrived
in Amsterdam. I think it was about 30 minutes into our long wait at
customs in Amsterdam that Ron told me that he wasn't sure if he
wanted to travel again. I think I might have agreed with him. Next,
we had to deal with crowded trains, short connection times, and
delays in reaching our final destination in Cochem, Germany. To make
matters worse, the handle broke on Ron's roller bag.
Finally, we arrived in Cochem where the kind proprietor
of our Apartment Maja was waiting to pick us up at the train
station. We love the apartment that sits along the banks of the Mosel River. The beauty and serenity of the area have almost erased the
memories of that long journey. After all, we did arrive safely at
our destination—that's considered a good trip these days.
