Dana the Explorer has made it to the Land Down Under. Despite some minor bumps in the road I am currently enjoying some free wifi, a ‘long black’ and a toasted cheese sandwich. The journey took longer than expected but it just goes to show you, the best laid plans don’t account for small windows for connecting flights and a completely ill informed airport staff. But it’s all about the journey anyway, right?
The flight from Boston to LA would be the most painless part of the journey. I watched Hidden Figures and started Big Little Lies. My experience in LAX would not be as easy. After disembarking off my first flight I needed to make a quick transfer to catch my plane to Sydney. Sounds easy enough. I ran to the board to check my gate and get on a shuttle to take me there. The first shuttle I took was narrowly hit by an airplane wing. The empty bus was with filled the sounds of the driver explaining to another employee how the Air traffic controller was using the wrong signals so she didn’t realize he had wanted her to stop. That was fun. When we finally arrived in the terminal I looked at the board again. My gate had changed, my flight was apparently in the terminal I’d just left. * Insert panic mode* I did not, have time for this. My Dad was concerned I was going to miss my connecting flight. At this point, I was praying he would be wrong. I ask an attendant and she tells me I need to go to the International Terminal (you’d think that would be perfectly logical) I waited for another shuttle and took this one back to there terminal I just come from.
Repeat the whole, running-around-the-airport-like-a-chicken-with-my-head-cut-off thing only to find out… once again, I was in the wrong terminal. How, I don’t know. I run up to someone in a neon vest and plead for help. At this point, I would not describe myself as composed. And for anyone who knows me well, let’s just say I’m not my best when I’m frustrated. Thankfully at this point the few other travelers in the area were also on my flight to Sydney and were having the same issue. Together now, we hounded the staffers for information and pleaded for assistance. At this point we were missing the flight. At first their suggestion was to run all the way through the terminal we were in, exit , go through security and hope for the best. Or board another damn shuttle and do the same thing. No option seemed like it was going to get me there. Eventually, they told us, “don’t worry, Terminal 2, where you need to be, is closed right now. They’re not going to leave with out you.” We were instructed to wait until they were given the OK and they would take us to terminal 2.
With our worries temporarily (and artificially) pacified, we waited for the shuttle. After finally arriving, we were greeted by completely surprised terminal 2 staff. They had no clue we were coming, the terminal was apparently still closed. Despite their concerns about fines, they let us through. We missed our flight, it left with out us.
By this time, there were five of us in the same boat. We waited for an attendant who would rebook our flights and put us up in a hotel for the night. At least I wasn’t alone in the struggle. Multiple employees from the airport came up to us looking for our story. Not in a “I’ll be assisting you” way but more of a “airport gossip” type way. They were looking for us to point out who had given us the wrong information. The point was, the five of us had each spoken to several people from the airport before missing our flight and no one had any idea what was going on. The wrong gate was even printed on one of our tickets. Needless to say, it was a mess.
We waited in line at guest services to have our hotel rooms booked. There was George, we would end the experience hugging this George M from Delta. But poor George tired to lecture me about how I had read the ticket wrong. I hadn’t, neither had anyone else. The airport was in the wrong here, and it was the airport who would be paying for our hotels. I tired to talk upgrade but George wasn’t having it . Eventually, he booked us all on the same flight a day later in an extra leg room seat, a room at the Crown Plaza and three meal vouchers. I’ll take it. My room had a king bed, it wasn’t awful but it wasn’t Australia either.
The bright side of the ultra confusing situation was meeting JuanPaul. An Australian-Argentinan-Eastern European. He’d traveled everywhere expect Africa and Antartica. JP made a great travel companion and gave me some inside scoops about Oz. I wasn’t expecting to have to stay an extra day in LA but at least I wasn’t alone. We finally made it to Australia. It wasn’t until after I’d passed customs that I realized I’d forgotten my power converter for all my chargers. He gave me his, SO THANK YOU JUANPAUL.
Finally, I’d made it to my hostel. When I tried to check in I realized that, I had messed up my reservation because of the plane delay. Basically, Australia is in the future and I hadn’t booked the right days exactly. Of course, they were full for the night. The staffer took pity on me and gave me a key to take a shower, use some wifi and regroup ( thank you Diego). After a very needed shower and change of clothes. I was able to book a new hostel. Also, I had a chance to call my bank who despite the travel notices I’d set, blocked my transactions on my credit cards.
Which brings me back to the café in Sydney where I’m currently sitting, finished with my coffee and toasted cheese sandwich. Despite the bumps in the road, I’m in Sydney, I’m safe, happy and have a place to rest my head tonight. The lesson here is that even though at times I was frustrated with the journey, it could have been a lot worse. After all, I signed up to meet Australians and have an adventure. With out realizing it, I’d started that journey before I even left the States.
Stay Tuned for more tales from Down Undah!
So happy you made it there! Too bad to didn’t have time to get In N Out!!!