We will never take a vacation in November again

From time to time we find ourselves still fuming from last year’s airport experience when we tried to visit the States. Certainly we would never have to endure anything that horrible again, we thought. But then we found ourselves in the middle of this last week.

It all started innocently enough – we needed a vacation and the cheapest flights were to Madrid via Rome. Off to Madrid we went. However, when we got to Rome, we needed boarding passes for our second leg of the journey to get through security. Oddly enough, there was no one from Alitalia to be found at any of their desks. Then we heard the announcement: Alitalia was in union meetings from 8am to 1pm and 3pm to 8pm and we should “expect delays.” Not a good sign. We parked ourselves by one of their desks and waited to get our passes. Eventually succeeding, we headed to our gate. That’s when the cancellations started. And we sat there until 2 hours past our departure time with absolutely no information (but a very sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach). Then our flight was cancelled. I won’t detail the craziness that ensued as we joined thousands of passengers trying to find luggage and the correct line to stand in to rebook. (We mistakently stood in the lost luggage line for about 20 minutes at one point. It was total chaos.)

We finally found one of three lines that had formed for the rebooking of flights. Then began the longest 6 hours of my life. That’s right – six hours of standing, occassionally broken up by watching fellow line-members being interviewed by the press (that started about an hour in) as well as the fights that started breaking out after we passed the 3-hour mark.

By the time we made it to the front, we could get a flight for the next day (on a different airline), but there were no free hotel rooms left. So we were on our own to find a place to stay and we were not staying at the airport. That was when the following conversation took place, exhibiting just how delirious I was:

Me: Okay. We just need to sit down and look for a place in our guidebook.

Shawn (sitting down and opening his bag): Wait. What guidebook?

Me (with disgust): Our Spain guidebook.

Shawn: (pointed stare)

Me: (blank stare back)

Shawn: Jennifer, we’re in Rome.

Me: Oh. Yeah.

Hilarious after the fact, but at that point it was after 11pm and we had gotten up at 4:30am that morning. So cut me some slack. We did eventually make it to Spain. Photos and details will be forthcoming.