Unexpected Stamp on the Passport

January 7, 2009

Snow in Michigan or Chicago is one thing. Snow in Birmingham, England is a completely different story. So when I opened Mark and Hilary's door at 4:30am to head to the airport and was greeted by a light dust of snow, I had a feeling that it was going to be a long day. The flight plan: Birmingham, England to Brussels, Belgium, to Chicago, IL to Indianapolis, IN. Mentally, I had prepared for this day to be a long one anyway. Having to change planes three times never constitutes as a short day.

I was surprised when I arrived at the airport and looked at the screen to see that my flight was delayed only 40mins. I was a bit skeptical at first checking the monitor every ten minutes to find that my flight's status had changed. Yet no change appeared. A glimmer of hope started to rise and a little bit of guilt as well for thinking that England didn't know how to handle snow. I boarded the plane, trying to keep my feelings neutral. We begin to get ready for departure. Then, the PA comes one. "Hello the is the Captain speaking..." I chuckle to myself knowing that this is not the last time I am going to hear this man's voice. "Due to the current weather conditions, the airport is going to close for an hour putting our take off time at an hour and fifteen minutes from now." Translation: get comfortable, we are going to be hear a while.

Five hours later I landed in Brussels after a grand total of 1 hour in flight. I was informed by the flight attendant that weather issues where also occurring on the Brussels side causing all of the connecting flights to be delayed. I figured as much and hoped for the best knowing there was little chance that I was going to make my connection. After landing, I brought to the forefront of my mind that seconds do matter and started booking it toward my gate. As I approached, I gathered my information. No people in the waiting area = not a good sign. A plane still at the gate = good sign. Door to the jet bridge = not a good sign. So far, not so good signs were winning. I approached the desk hoping that whoever was sitting there spoke English. Sure enough he did, but what he said was not what I wanted to hear. I missed my flight by 20 minutes. He then instructed me to go to the costumer service desk to get rerouted. I turned my head in the direction he was pointing; however, I struggled to see the desk that he spoke of because of a HUGE line that had formed.

Fast forward three hours: I approach the customer services desk thinking to myself that I have never waited in a line that long even for a roller coaster at Cedar Point. But, this was not really their fault. Helping people takes time, and it was my turn to see what my options were. Due to me being just over eight hours behind schedule, no other flights would be leaving Brussels that day with the US as its destination. My only option, fly out in the morning to Newark, NJ and then head to Indianapolis.

I have had threats of being put up in hotels in the past but somehow I have always made it back the same day. Not this time. I was to spend the night in Brussels. Well, the competitive side of me didn't mind. Although I possessed a great desire to get home, I didn't mind having to actually walk on the soil of Belgium. The resounding sound of stamp hitting my passport made it all worth it and the fact that this was costing me not one single penny.

It would be nice to end the story there. Leaving you to think that everything went smoothly the next day. But that wouldn't have followed suit with the rest of my travels. All in all it took me about 48 hours to get back from England. The plane from Brussels to England was delayed just enough to cause me to miss yet another connecting flight. Fortunately, I had started my journey that day early enough so that was able to catch the following flight to Indianapolis. Once you past the 36 hour mark, what is another few hours.