I Can Never See You Again…

…especially if it involves flying. As most people are aware, I just returned from two weeks in Canada to attend my brother’s wedding. I had such high hopes for the trip when I realised that all the wedding presents in my suitcase would allow for some serious shopping.

By the time I hit Brisbane, I was having doubts. It took almost as long to get our luggage at the Brisbane airport, than it did to fly from Rocky. After dragging our suitcases across to the International Airport, we were confident that the two or so hours would be enough time to check in and go through security. How wrong we were. Even using the business class/Qantas frequent flyers line, it still took us an hour or more to actually check in, only to find that I wasn’t sitting with my parents (not necessarily as bad thing), but that none of our seating requests had been put through. So instead of an aisle seat, I was wedged into a corner while the olds were somewhere on the other side of the plane.

After finally clearly security and being pulled up because of my vast array of needles in my hand luggage, we had fifteen minutes to buy the requisite Bundy Rum before our plane was boarding. We made it to the gate with minutes to spare. And then Qantas announced there would be a forty minute delay. After the initial grumbling from everyone, my parents bought me a muffin and a bottle of water (not the sandwich and coke I had asked for) and took off to the Qantas Club for food and wine, leaving me alone at the boarding gate, with three lots of cabin baggage, reappearing when the next boarding announcement was made.

Planning our flights with perfect timing didn’t included the hour and a half delay leaving Brisbane, so by the time we arrived in Los Angeles and collected our luggage (slightly longer than the wait in Brisbane), we had missed our flight to Toronto. Luckily, Qantas moved us to an Air Canada flight leaving in a few hours and gave us lunch for free. Please note that the free lunch in no way made up for the fact that I had not bathed or changed my underwear for almost twenty hours, especially since Qantas failed to handout their refreshment pack with the toothbrush and toothpaste, so my mouth of feeling pretty funky by LA.

The duration of the visit was fine. During our visit in Niagra Falls, we stayed the the Hilton. PIECE OF SHIT! Not only does the Expedia website have the wrong information about the rooms, they made my brother and his new wife wait until 4pm (two hours after the check in time) before they could check in. They’re newlyweds for God’s sake! They want to get to their room and do gross nasty stuff to each other!

My room on the other hand was interesting. It had two queen size beds with a mound of pillows on both. It also had huge stains on the carpet and had thin enough walls that I could hear the ice machine and vending machine down the hallway.

The flights back started okay. I got through Toronto customs without a hitch and had an hour free to wander around the airport. That was when all the fun started. I boarding the plane. That was fine. Half an hour into the American Airlines flight, they announced that they had no water on the plane. We would have to wash our hands with bottles of soda water. On the half empty plane, they even managed to run out of blankets for everyone. I had one, so I didn’t really care about anyone else.

And then we landed at LAX. I found the right terminal. I found the right line. I didn’t have any luggage to check in, so you would think that it would just be wham bam, there’s your boarding pass. WRONG! It took an hour and a half to move three metres to the head of the line. We were not happy. And just to make things even more interesting, the Qantas guy who was checking me in, was also checking me out! Did I know we had the same birthday? Was I a Miss or a Ms? Did I have a boyfriend? What did I care?!?! I’d been standing in line for an hour and a half! If I had been thinking clearly, I would have tried for an upgrade, but at that point, I really didn’t care that this guy could have been my ticket to the mile high club, I just wanted to sleep.

So, while half the plane was still going through customs and security, they were calling for us to board. Surprisingly, we left LAX on time. Even more surprisingly, my Qantas boy was working in business class. And yes, I’m still kicking myself for not trying for the upgrade.

Landing at Brisbane was a relief. The women next to me didn’t know how to use the remote and I had a kid behind me who liked to kick and laugh and laugh and kick. Not even the final leg of the trip was peaceful. Brisbane to Rocky, I had an Indian doctor sitting next to me. Was I from Rocky or Brisbane? Did I like Rocky? What was Rocky like? What can you do there? Luckily, after the Qantas cupcake was served, I was able to pretend to read the Qantas magazine. I now know more about the antique jewellery business than I even wanted to.

I finally arrived home, hot, sweaty and tired. Luckily, nothing in my suitcase had broken. My suitcase has been better, but nothing inside was ruined.

That was a quick run down on my holiday. I have now decided, with much regret, that if my brother and new Canadian family ever want to see me again, they’ll have to come here, cos I’m not going through all that again…except maybe the Qantas guy.

~ by lulupop on Wednesday, October 10, 2007.