The weekend I arrived in Chicago to be at my nephew's wedding, there was no one left in the Air Canada baggage area 30 minutes after the flight had arrived, which was actually 60 minutes after the scheduled arrival and my sister, Maria, who was supposed to pick me up was no where to be found. So I went to the Air Canada desk upstairs to ask for her to be paged and asked about a possible free shuttle to the hotel. The disninterested Air Canada agent agreed to page Maria and advised me I could check about shuttles at the Bus and Shuttle Terminal across from the entrance to the Airport Hilton Hotel, which was downstairs, through some tunnels, etc. I then asked about US currency. The ONLY currency desk at O'Hare is in Terminal 5 BEHIND security. Air Canada flights arrive in Terminal 3. Since that was a great distance from Terminal 3, I elected not to go that route.
I went back to the Air Canada baggage area and assumed Maria was paged since I couldn't tell with all the other background noise. All announcements I heard were garbled and unintelligible. After about 15 minutes more I decided that something must have happened and I should try to call Maria. So how can you call from a pay phone in a US airport without US currency? Well to avoid exorbitant credit card charges, you need to get some US currency. So I went to the only ATM in the baggage area, one of those generic machines that charge you exorbitant service fees. I hate these machines. This one used a card reader that apparently is quite common now in USA ATM machines. You insert, then remove your card and then do your transaction. I guess too many people were losing or forgetting their cards in the ATM's. Anyway despite repeated tries this machine could not read my card and I gave up. I decided to head over to the Bus and Shuttle Terminal to see if I could get a free shuttle, eliminating the need for US cash.
At the Terminal, there was another ATM. This one read my card and I was able to process a request for cash withdrawal, but the system never asked me what account to draw the funds from. It simply went ahead and came back with an "insufficient funds" message. I keep very little cash in my chequing account and most in my savings account, so if it defaulted to the first account then that is the only message that would come back. Did I mention I hate these generic ATM's?
So I approached the agent at the counter who was selling tickets and directing passengers to the various buses and shuttles. When I got my turn I explained my situation and asked about a free shuttle to the Hampton Inn in Deer Park. He said there was none, but then I showed home the invite which included the message about a free shuttle service, so he offered to call the hotel for me to check it out. It turns out they have a shuttle bus only to bring guests to stores, restaurants and weddings, etc. within a 5 mile radius of the hotel. The airport is about 23 miles from this hotel He then suggested I check out American Taxi who offered fixed rates and a discounted taxi service that he said would cost me 50% of what a metered taxi would cost to Deer Park.
As I walked over to where the phones were, I thought that maybe I could get him to call Maria to find out where she was, so I turned back. Again he was very accommodating and not only called her, but handed the phone to me when it was ringing. The first of Maria's numbers was disconnected and the 2nd rang through to a fax line. I searched for my nephew Ben's phone number, but didn't have it either. I tried signing up on the Airport's free Wi-Fi service so I could send an e-mail or text message. Apparently in the USA free Wi-Fi service means you can get the initial web page for free - every other use requires a paid subscription, unlike Canadian airports like Ottawa and Toronto where FREE Wi-Fi services is totally FREE! So I concluded I couldn't call, email or text Maria - I'd just have to hire the taxi. I mean how expensive could it be?
So I called American Taxi and asked for a quote. Their computer was down, so the dispatcher suggested he could send the driver who had a fare book in the taxi and he could tell me the cost. (So the dispatchers don't have copies of this fare book?) When he finally did arrive, he pulled out his book and told me he couldn't read the fares, so he asked me to tell him what it said. (Omigod! They sent me a BLIND taxi driver??!!) I originally read the wrong line and said $50, but then corrected myself with the correct $68 fare. What could I do? I guess if I'd thought about it, a rental car might have been cheaper, but driving on unfamiliar Chicago freeways would be harrowing and nerve-racking.
So after stowing my bag in the trunk I climbed into the back seat and we set off for the hotel. The driver appeared to see where he was going, so I assume he was maybe just far-sighted. But to ask if I would recommend the driver or the company, I would emphatically say NO! He constantly talked on the cell phone as well as texting and making call after call speaking in a foreign language, writing notes in a workbook and looking up numbers in the same workbook, all the while driving at the 55 MPH speed limit on the freeways leading to the hotel. At one point he even had TWO cell phones going when a call came in on a second phone. His ring tone, which someone obviously thought was funny for a cab driver, was first a loud whistle sound and then the shout "Hey Taxi!". It sounded like someone was trying to hail a cab as we were speeding down the freeway. After hearing this about 5 times, he finally picked up the call after putting the first caller on his other phone on hold.
We finally made it to the hotel in one piece. He then confirmed the total fare would be $68 + $6 airport tax, and how much was that? So now I had a taxi driver who couldn't add??!! I advised him that was $74 and handed him my credit card. He laid the card on a flat binder, then positioned a paper Credit Card draft on top of the card and then began applying pressure from the side of a pen moving it back and forth over the draft as if he were doing a rubbing at some ancient archaeological site to get an image of the raised characters on the credit card voucher. When that was done, he speed-dialed the credit card company on his cell phone and then entered the information, including my credit card number and expiry date on the cell phone keypad. Well something didn't work and he asked for my card back again. Having misgivings about the whole process, I suggested we go into the hotel to see if we could make an arrangement to have the hotel pay my cab and add it to my bill.
Well I should have known better. The hotel couldn't or wouldn't advance to funds to pay the cab. Nor could they change my Canadian money to US currency, give me an advance on my credit card or debit card or do anything else for that matter. But they did have a generic ATM machine in the Business Centre that I could withdraw cash from. Oh yeah, I've heard that before.
This ATM was a little more promising. It actually asked me what account I wanted to draw the money from. But having been twice bitten by these cheap knockoffs at the airport, I decided to play it safe and ask for the balance in my savings account before actually asking for the money. The machine worked flawlessly confirming I had enough money in that account to buy out the hotel for one night, even though it took almost 5 minutes to confirm the information. Okay, so now I proceeded to complete the withdrawal request. After 5 minutes of waiting again, the ATM came back with COMMUNICATION ERROR, and no money.
In frustration I went back to the front desk and the waiting cab driver and explained what had happened, and again implored the clerk to help. He brought out the Hotel Manager who finally decided to advance me a $100 bill, which was all the cash they had in the till at that time, to give to the driver. Would you be surprised to learn the cab driver only had a $20 bill change? Since I had made him wait and his boss was now calling his cell phone to ask where he was, I relented and accepted the $20 change and let him go. That's how the $68 cab fare ended up costing $80.
But this is not quite the end of the story. The hotel manager insisted I immediately go to the Chase bank to get cash to reimburse them. They would even use the hotel's shuttle and wait for me to bring back the cash, as if I needed an armed escort for such a large sum of money. It's nice to know there is such a high level of trust between the valuable hotel guest and the hotel management. After the shuttle driver managed to get the barely functioning, recently- repaired van in gear, we were off and a few minutes later I was explaining my story to the clerk at the information desk of the Chase bank. She wasn't sure what to suggest but then mentioned I could always try their ATM. I hadn't seen it coming in since it was in a separate part of the building with its own entrance around the side. A young clerk who had overheard offered to take me there, and we had a pleasant conversation about his 3-year old son as I attempted to navigate past the initial screens which offered me 14 languages before I started, then numerous options where I mis-selected a few before I finally got it right. In 3 seconds my money was delivered and 30 seconds later I was shaking the young man's hand and climbing back into the temperamental shuttle van heading back to the hotel. I handed the $80 back to the obviously relieved clerk (he had kept the original $20 change the cab driver had given me as collateral) and then headed up to my room for the first time. The clerk also advised me that Maria had called and she would be there shortly.
When I got to the room, there was a message from Ben wondering where I was AND included in the message were his and Maria's new phone numbers.
By comparison, the rest of the day was quiet except for the laughter from people to whom I told my story to. I managed to do some shopping with Maria and Tricia and her two kids Hope and Buzz. At the Apple store I bought Bluetooth stereo headphones which will allow me to connect to my iPhone and iPad without any wires (very cool!) and then we went to Target to replace the shaving cream and moisturizer I had been forced to donate to the security staff at the Pearson International Airport.
This was my first visit to Target. Until this year, there were no Target stores in Canada, but they are coming to Canada in a big way. Target has bought 189 locations of the defunct Canadian Zellers store chain (owned by TheBay) and are making a big push north. After seeing the prices, I would say Canadian retailers are in for a big shock, and Canadians are in for some big savings. I bought a pair of men's leather dress shows for $29.99 which would easily have cosy $70 to $80 in a Canadian shoe store.
Last night was the rehearsal dinner held at a local Italian Restaurant where I got to see Ben and Christine (the Weds to be) and the rest of Maria's family including her other sons Tim and Geoy. And it was great to connect again with Tricia's husband, Tim - we had some great dinner conversation. George, Maria's ex-husband was also there with his daughter Penny. Except for George, they have all changed so much I would never have recognized them. It was a great meal but having not slept more than two hours since Wednesday night, I agreed to let Tricia drop me off at the hotel on their way home and crashed about 9:30pm.
THIS will be a trip I remember for a long time to come!
Saturday, June 23, 2012
Chicago trip, part 1 (or How it takes 11 hours by bus, plane & taxi)
Travel has changed. For those who do it constantly, you already know this but for others who have not ventured south of the border recently, like me, the changes are startling.
In my case, I was going from Ottawa to Chicago. After considerable research, I decided to fly Air Canada from Toronto to Chicago after taking a bus from Ottawa to Toronto. The combined return air and bus fares were over $100 less than flying directly from Ottawa with Air Canada or any other airline. To make my connection in Toronto, I had to catch the earliest bus out of Ottawa at 1am. Surprisingly there are a lot of people who think traveling to Toronto on the 1am bus is convenient and the crowd swelled to 2 bus capacity before we left.
Two hours later I was awakened from sleep for our first and only pit stop at a Tim Horton's somewhere in rural Ontario. After buying a coffee and bagel with cream cheese and after a bus driver change (our bus driver switched to a bus going back to Ottawa) we were on our way again. This time I stayed awake and watched the familiar route on highways that were way past their "best before date". Eventually the familiar Toronto cityscape began to appear and we made the first city stop at Scarborough Town Centre next to the Transit station at about 5:15am. After dropping a few passengers off, we were on our way again and arrived at the downtown Bus Terminal at about 5:40am. The bus terminal is a few blocks from the closest subway station on Dundas Street West and I walked over to catch the subway to connect to the bus that would take me to the Airport.
I actually ended up on the subway platform before the first subway train had arrived and was able to examine what had changed since the last time I had been there 10 years before. For one thing the information/ advertising displays are now full color LED/LCD TV's that show how many minutes before the next train arrives. Remembering the frustration of a previous life waiting on past platforms wondering when the next train would come, I felt this was a definite improvement and allowed the rider to make alternate choices if the wait were too long. When one doesn't know, one tends to keep waiting hoping upon hope it won't be too long. One more than one occasion in the past when I had given up hope and decided walking would be faster, I would then hear the long-awaited train arrive as I was too far up the escalator to run back in time to catch it. At least now a countdown clock would give you better information to make the decision.
The next surprise was the subway train itself. I could tell from its approach that it was a new train, but the upgrade embellishments inside were phenomenal. The transit map, for example, now had little green and red lights. The green lights lit the stations already passed whereas the red lights were for stations ahead of the train. The station immediately ahead flashed in green until arrival. Other displays in the car showed the next station while a female voice announced the same information several times. As the train entered the station, the display would advise what side to exit the train. Toronto has a confusing and inconsistent design of platforms that are either separated on either side of the station, or joined together in one central platform, which means you never know (until now) what side of the train you'll be getting out on. Even those familiar with the system have been occasionally embarrassed by lining up at the wrong exit doors only to have the doors on the opposite side of the train open up when the train stops, and they then have to sheepishly turn around and cower out of the train hoping that no one else noticed, which of course everyone did.
But the biggest surprise was the train itself. Those familiar with traditional Toronto subway cars, or have even only seen the New York subway cars with the adjoining cars that allowed changing cars only by going through a risky set of two doors, would have been impressed by this totally connected train, no doors. Like a giant snake, the train is a series of cars that have these flexible, articulated connections that on straight stretches allows you to have an unobstructed view in either direction from the front of the train to the back. No risky moving from car to car with a possible catastrophic fall between the cars unto the train tracks. There was no "between the cars". Just the long, snake-like mechanical animal that allowed you to walk the length of its mechanical belly without pause. I was impressed. For contrast, I ended up on a more traditional train that had none of these enhancements after transferring to the Bloor line.
The bus to the Airport from Kipling was crowded, but because it was before the morning rush hour, it made good time and dropped me at Terminal 1 where my real adventure began.
If you're not familiar with Terminal 1, as I am not, it is a confusing mega-size airport terminal and you have to read a lot of signs to get to where you're going. The bus dumped us on the arrivals level and I eventually found the departures sign pointing upstairs. After going one flight up, I found express terminals for Air Canada and United, so I decided to save time and use one. Now these terminals require not only your booking reference number, but your passport (scanned) and your destination address in the USA. Of course I didn't have them ready when the screens appeared, so I had to dig through my bags. The computer terminal, like an impatient waiting agent, kept asking me "Do you need more time?" as I searhced for the documents. Finally in frustration I just hit cancel and headed up to the third level to join the unwashed masses lining up at the Air Canada counters. After seeing the thousands in the queues here, I reconsidered not using the automated kiosks, went back to the second level with all my documents in-hand, and breezed through the process getting my "boarding pass" in just a few minutes. Since I only had carry-on luggage, I headed back to the 3rd level to look for my gate which the kiosk had shown as F-66.
Once on the third level, the large alphabet numbers lead me through A to G when I saw a sign directing me to Connecting Flights and F, so I followed that sign. When the agent at the door to that area saw my boarding pass, she advised me that I had to enter through another F entrance around the other side and that only passengers connecting from flights could go through there. After walking around the hundreds of passengers lined up at the Air Canada counters and walking for another 500 meters, I finally did find the other F entrance which, incidentally, enters the same hall a few meters away from the original entrance I first tried. They're basically just two different doors into the same room - there's no other difference. The only difference I can see is that it saves walking for connecting passengers, which, I guess, is not a consideration for new passengers.
I had already grabbed the US Immigration card to fill out and planned to do so in the very long, snaking line (the first of many I would stand in). The agent at the door, however, insisted I fill in the card BEFORE joining the line, which I did, then waited until my turn came up with the next available USA Immigration Officer. Having already had my passport scanned and my hotel information entered in the automated kiosk, I now had to enter the same information on the Immigration form. Don't you love unfettered bureaucracy?
I should tell you that my passport expires next year. As a five year old passport with hair that is not as short as mine is now and perhaps it was a little bit thicker in that photograph, I guess I should forgive the agent for examining it closely and then holding it up in the air beside my face and comparing me to the image as he did this double-take several times before either convincing himself I was the same person, or perhaps deciding that if I was a terrorist his grandmother could take me out before I was able to release any weapons of mass destruction.
So released from USA Immigration, I then joined the snaking queue for USA Customs. Eventually I made it to an agent who made the standard questions, confiscated the Immigration card and dispatched me to the next snaking line waiting to be cleared through security. This scene was the most chaotic. People were half-undressing themselves removing shoes, belts and other metal garments so I knew the score by the time I got to the X-ray belt. But I had forgotten about the no liquids and had a can of shaving cream and a bottle of moisturizer that proved to be too dangerous for carry-on luggage. They were confiscated. I wonder if security agents working at airports ever have to shop for these products or if they just bag the confiscated goods and take them home? Or do they own corner stores where they repackage confiscated goods and sell them at discounts? Do you really think that all this discarded stuff ends up in landfill? Perks of the job, I guess.
So I was finally inside the security perimeter! Gate F-66 was almost within reach! Since I had nothing to eat since the Tim's pit stop in the middle of the night, I found a fast food place close to security that was open and who were serving over-priced "breakfast" items. I chose a tasteless bagel with western omelette and cheese, an oat bran muffin and a bottle of water which at $15.00 for everything wasn't completely unaffordable. Unfortunately it WAS completely tasteless. Still it was filling - and I knew there would be no food on the plane.
As I walked to my gate, I noticed that my "boarding pass" did not include a seat assignment. So at gate F-66 I approached the counter only to be intercepted by another waiting passenger who advised me that they were still working on getting out the United Denver flight and the Air Canada agents had not even showed up yet. We watched the drama of the passengers who had not showed up for the flight even though they were in the terminal (lost maybe?) and the one passenger who had somehow boarded without being on the passenger manifest, but they finally sorted all of the out and only left 5 minutes late at about 8:50am. Our flight was due to leave at 9:15am. By this time the crowd around the front waiting to speak to an agent had grown to about a dozen people.
Finally one of the agents made a PA announcement asking certain passengers to come to the desk. My name was not among them. Happy passengers made their way to the desk to claim their free upgrades to Business Class. A few minutes later they began calling names for passengers to get their seat assignments, and this time my name was on the list. So finally I was now ready to board my flight.
We now live in a world of "if you check it, I will charge you". Everyone has carry-on now. The trouble is even though the bags are designated as "carry-on" size, passengers feel that anything crammed into it, even if it bulges, is fair game. The squeezing, pushing, jamming of these bags into overhead carry-ons is enough to cause severe structural damage to the plane! I'm sure these carry-on racks are loaded way beyond their holding capacity when every square inch is crammed full. I'm just waiting for the lawsuits when the whole one side of carry-on collapses killing or injuring passengers seated below. The other effect of all this effort is longer loading times and we left 15 minutes late at 9:30am not only because passengers took more time in stowing their luggage, but also because the flight attendants then had to take lap bags away from people and add it to the scarce empty spaces above, or advise customers to stow them under the seats in front of them.
The flight was delayed taking off and delayed again landing so that we arrived at the Chicago Ohare terminal 1/2 hour behind schedule, and then had further delays as passengers struggled to release their captive bags from overhead. I made my way through the airport to tha baggage claim area, even though I had all my bags, and waited for my sister, Maria, who was picking me up. No Maria. Now I confess that while I planned my itenerary with care, minimalised my packing to the bare essentials I would need for a weekend trip, I did NOT think it was necessary to convert any Canadian to USA currency since Maria would meet me at the airport and I could always get US currency at the hotel. That is when the real adventure began. More in part 2.
In my case, I was going from Ottawa to Chicago. After considerable research, I decided to fly Air Canada from Toronto to Chicago after taking a bus from Ottawa to Toronto. The combined return air and bus fares were over $100 less than flying directly from Ottawa with Air Canada or any other airline. To make my connection in Toronto, I had to catch the earliest bus out of Ottawa at 1am. Surprisingly there are a lot of people who think traveling to Toronto on the 1am bus is convenient and the crowd swelled to 2 bus capacity before we left.
Two hours later I was awakened from sleep for our first and only pit stop at a Tim Horton's somewhere in rural Ontario. After buying a coffee and bagel with cream cheese and after a bus driver change (our bus driver switched to a bus going back to Ottawa) we were on our way again. This time I stayed awake and watched the familiar route on highways that were way past their "best before date". Eventually the familiar Toronto cityscape began to appear and we made the first city stop at Scarborough Town Centre next to the Transit station at about 5:15am. After dropping a few passengers off, we were on our way again and arrived at the downtown Bus Terminal at about 5:40am. The bus terminal is a few blocks from the closest subway station on Dundas Street West and I walked over to catch the subway to connect to the bus that would take me to the Airport.
I actually ended up on the subway platform before the first subway train had arrived and was able to examine what had changed since the last time I had been there 10 years before. For one thing the information/ advertising displays are now full color LED/LCD TV's that show how many minutes before the next train arrives. Remembering the frustration of a previous life waiting on past platforms wondering when the next train would come, I felt this was a definite improvement and allowed the rider to make alternate choices if the wait were too long. When one doesn't know, one tends to keep waiting hoping upon hope it won't be too long. One more than one occasion in the past when I had given up hope and decided walking would be faster, I would then hear the long-awaited train arrive as I was too far up the escalator to run back in time to catch it. At least now a countdown clock would give you better information to make the decision.
The next surprise was the subway train itself. I could tell from its approach that it was a new train, but the upgrade embellishments inside were phenomenal. The transit map, for example, now had little green and red lights. The green lights lit the stations already passed whereas the red lights were for stations ahead of the train. The station immediately ahead flashed in green until arrival. Other displays in the car showed the next station while a female voice announced the same information several times. As the train entered the station, the display would advise what side to exit the train. Toronto has a confusing and inconsistent design of platforms that are either separated on either side of the station, or joined together in one central platform, which means you never know (until now) what side of the train you'll be getting out on. Even those familiar with the system have been occasionally embarrassed by lining up at the wrong exit doors only to have the doors on the opposite side of the train open up when the train stops, and they then have to sheepishly turn around and cower out of the train hoping that no one else noticed, which of course everyone did.
But the biggest surprise was the train itself. Those familiar with traditional Toronto subway cars, or have even only seen the New York subway cars with the adjoining cars that allowed changing cars only by going through a risky set of two doors, would have been impressed by this totally connected train, no doors. Like a giant snake, the train is a series of cars that have these flexible, articulated connections that on straight stretches allows you to have an unobstructed view in either direction from the front of the train to the back. No risky moving from car to car with a possible catastrophic fall between the cars unto the train tracks. There was no "between the cars". Just the long, snake-like mechanical animal that allowed you to walk the length of its mechanical belly without pause. I was impressed. For contrast, I ended up on a more traditional train that had none of these enhancements after transferring to the Bloor line.
The bus to the Airport from Kipling was crowded, but because it was before the morning rush hour, it made good time and dropped me at Terminal 1 where my real adventure began.
If you're not familiar with Terminal 1, as I am not, it is a confusing mega-size airport terminal and you have to read a lot of signs to get to where you're going. The bus dumped us on the arrivals level and I eventually found the departures sign pointing upstairs. After going one flight up, I found express terminals for Air Canada and United, so I decided to save time and use one. Now these terminals require not only your booking reference number, but your passport (scanned) and your destination address in the USA. Of course I didn't have them ready when the screens appeared, so I had to dig through my bags. The computer terminal, like an impatient waiting agent, kept asking me "Do you need more time?" as I searhced for the documents. Finally in frustration I just hit cancel and headed up to the third level to join the unwashed masses lining up at the Air Canada counters. After seeing the thousands in the queues here, I reconsidered not using the automated kiosks, went back to the second level with all my documents in-hand, and breezed through the process getting my "boarding pass" in just a few minutes. Since I only had carry-on luggage, I headed back to the 3rd level to look for my gate which the kiosk had shown as F-66.
Once on the third level, the large alphabet numbers lead me through A to G when I saw a sign directing me to Connecting Flights and F, so I followed that sign. When the agent at the door to that area saw my boarding pass, she advised me that I had to enter through another F entrance around the other side and that only passengers connecting from flights could go through there. After walking around the hundreds of passengers lined up at the Air Canada counters and walking for another 500 meters, I finally did find the other F entrance which, incidentally, enters the same hall a few meters away from the original entrance I first tried. They're basically just two different doors into the same room - there's no other difference. The only difference I can see is that it saves walking for connecting passengers, which, I guess, is not a consideration for new passengers.
I had already grabbed the US Immigration card to fill out and planned to do so in the very long, snaking line (the first of many I would stand in). The agent at the door, however, insisted I fill in the card BEFORE joining the line, which I did, then waited until my turn came up with the next available USA Immigration Officer. Having already had my passport scanned and my hotel information entered in the automated kiosk, I now had to enter the same information on the Immigration form. Don't you love unfettered bureaucracy?
I should tell you that my passport expires next year. As a five year old passport with hair that is not as short as mine is now and perhaps it was a little bit thicker in that photograph, I guess I should forgive the agent for examining it closely and then holding it up in the air beside my face and comparing me to the image as he did this double-take several times before either convincing himself I was the same person, or perhaps deciding that if I was a terrorist his grandmother could take me out before I was able to release any weapons of mass destruction.
So released from USA Immigration, I then joined the snaking queue for USA Customs. Eventually I made it to an agent who made the standard questions, confiscated the Immigration card and dispatched me to the next snaking line waiting to be cleared through security. This scene was the most chaotic. People were half-undressing themselves removing shoes, belts and other metal garments so I knew the score by the time I got to the X-ray belt. But I had forgotten about the no liquids and had a can of shaving cream and a bottle of moisturizer that proved to be too dangerous for carry-on luggage. They were confiscated. I wonder if security agents working at airports ever have to shop for these products or if they just bag the confiscated goods and take them home? Or do they own corner stores where they repackage confiscated goods and sell them at discounts? Do you really think that all this discarded stuff ends up in landfill? Perks of the job, I guess.
So I was finally inside the security perimeter! Gate F-66 was almost within reach! Since I had nothing to eat since the Tim's pit stop in the middle of the night, I found a fast food place close to security that was open and who were serving over-priced "breakfast" items. I chose a tasteless bagel with western omelette and cheese, an oat bran muffin and a bottle of water which at $15.00 for everything wasn't completely unaffordable. Unfortunately it WAS completely tasteless. Still it was filling - and I knew there would be no food on the plane.
As I walked to my gate, I noticed that my "boarding pass" did not include a seat assignment. So at gate F-66 I approached the counter only to be intercepted by another waiting passenger who advised me that they were still working on getting out the United Denver flight and the Air Canada agents had not even showed up yet. We watched the drama of the passengers who had not showed up for the flight even though they were in the terminal (lost maybe?) and the one passenger who had somehow boarded without being on the passenger manifest, but they finally sorted all of the out and only left 5 minutes late at about 8:50am. Our flight was due to leave at 9:15am. By this time the crowd around the front waiting to speak to an agent had grown to about a dozen people.
Finally one of the agents made a PA announcement asking certain passengers to come to the desk. My name was not among them. Happy passengers made their way to the desk to claim their free upgrades to Business Class. A few minutes later they began calling names for passengers to get their seat assignments, and this time my name was on the list. So finally I was now ready to board my flight.
We now live in a world of "if you check it, I will charge you". Everyone has carry-on now. The trouble is even though the bags are designated as "carry-on" size, passengers feel that anything crammed into it, even if it bulges, is fair game. The squeezing, pushing, jamming of these bags into overhead carry-ons is enough to cause severe structural damage to the plane! I'm sure these carry-on racks are loaded way beyond their holding capacity when every square inch is crammed full. I'm just waiting for the lawsuits when the whole one side of carry-on collapses killing or injuring passengers seated below. The other effect of all this effort is longer loading times and we left 15 minutes late at 9:30am not only because passengers took more time in stowing their luggage, but also because the flight attendants then had to take lap bags away from people and add it to the scarce empty spaces above, or advise customers to stow them under the seats in front of them.
The flight was delayed taking off and delayed again landing so that we arrived at the Chicago Ohare terminal 1/2 hour behind schedule, and then had further delays as passengers struggled to release their captive bags from overhead. I made my way through the airport to tha baggage claim area, even though I had all my bags, and waited for my sister, Maria, who was picking me up. No Maria. Now I confess that while I planned my itenerary with care, minimalised my packing to the bare essentials I would need for a weekend trip, I did NOT think it was necessary to convert any Canadian to USA currency since Maria would meet me at the airport and I could always get US currency at the hotel. That is when the real adventure began. More in part 2.
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