TopShelf Magazine June 2023

IS TRAVELING STILL FUN

I have spent much of the last 70 years years travelling around the world, and couldn’t wait for COVID to subside a little, so that I could pack my suitcases once again.

Here in New Zealand, our borders were closed for a very long time, so once they finally opened again last year, all of us intrepid travellers were raring to go.

Surely it wouldn’t be much different?

Now that the air was once again full of planes, taking people to exotic locations, life would get back to some kind of normality. It would be such fun to travel again.

I left New Zealand in early December, full of anticipation and excitement at the thought of seeing the world again and visiting much loved friends in far flung places.

Arriving at Auckland airport to check in for my flight to London via Singapore, I hit the first hurdle.

“ We are so sorry Madam, your flight has just been cancelled .”

“ Oh, do you mean it’s delayed?”

“ No Madam, it has been

cancelled entirely, due to technical difficulties. We will try to book you onto another flight.”

Half an hour later I was offered a flight to London via Chicago. There would be a 12 hour delay, but apparently I could wait in the lounge.

“ Oh dear I don’t have a current ESTA, I didn’t bother to renew it as I wasn’t planning to transit through the States .”

“Don’t worry Madam, you can apply on your phone, the visa will come through in about half an hour.”

An anxious two and a half hours then passed before the visa was granted and they could check me in for the Chicago flight. Although I would not be leaving Chicago airport, merely transiting through the States, I was still required to hold a visa.

But my problem was nothing compared to several couples who were also going to miss their flight to Singapore, where they were due to connect to a cruise ship. Despite much pleading and several fraught phone

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calls, it seemed that neither the airline, nor the cruise line, could do anything to assist them. They were just going to miss out on their long anticipated cruising holiday.

Eventually, after another ten hours of hanging around, I boarded the plane and sank into my seat gratefully. Due to more technical difficulties, we then sat on the tarmac for another one and a half hours before take off. Once in the sky all was well, until the flight manager came up to me just before landing.

“ Mrs. Backley, we have a problem. Due to our late departure, your connecting flight time is quite tight. I noticed you were limping a little when you boarded, so I have taken the liberty of booking you assistance when we land.”

I was a little offended. Ok, so I did have a bit of a limp (due to an old injury) but did he really think I was such an old lady that I couldn’t manage to stride through an airport on my own.

The young woman waiting for me on landing was lovely. She settled me and my hand luggage into the wheelchair and proceed to walk to the next gate. She collected my boarding pass en-route, I was impressed to see that the ground staff had labelled it URGENT, SPEEDY BOARDING, so I relaxed, knowing I was in good hands.

The security guy was quite officious.

“ What are you planning to do in the U.S. Ma’am?”

“Oh, I’m just in transit, flying onto London.” Then it transpired that my bags had not been checked through to London and I would have to collect them and take

to the next airline desk.

I needn’t have worried. The capable young woman hoisted my bags off the carousel, popped them on a luggage trolley and proceeded to walk briskly, the wheelchair in one hand and the heavy luggage trolley in the other. I was very impressed as she whizzed around corners and along corridors, never once damaging either myself or the cases!

Having re-checked the bags, I assumed we would just go to the departure gate.

“ Oh no ma’am, now we have to get the train to the other terminal.”

The airport train seemed to take forever and I noticed that she kept glancing at her watch.

“ How long are you intending to stay in the U.S. Ma’am?”

I could hear the tension in my voice as I replied. Why on earth were we having to go through security again?

“I am not intending to stay for anytime at all. I am ONLY IN TRANSIT!”

Having not been arrested for being grumpy with an officer of the law, we were allowed through and with another furtive glance at her watch, my escort proceeded to run through the endlessly long corridors. It took almost ten minutes to reach the departure gate and she pushed me to the front, brandishing my URGENT SPEEDY boarding pass.

The guy at the gate shook his head.

“ Sorry, we’ve just closed the gate.”

“But you knew we were coming. We were told she would definitely be able to board.”

He shook his head.

“ No she can’t. We’re taking off her luggage and that of the other passengers from that flight.”

No amount of pleading would change his mind. The plane was right in front of me, but apparently it was better to waste time hunting down and removing my luggage from the hold, rather than just let me board the plane.

At this point I almost burst into tears. It had been a long day: twelve hours waiting at Auckland airport, a 14 hour flight (with an hour and half delay added on) and a frustrating hour spent trying to transit through Chicago airport.

It was only my pride that stopped the tears flowing.

Half an hour later,they said they had managed to book me on another flight to London that evening. Just a three hour wait, but unfortunately all the Business Class seats were full (I had treated myself to Business Class due to the long journey and my damaged knee) so I would have to travel in Economy. Normally that would not be a problem, but after all

the hours of inactivity my knee was a bit sore!

The flight was fine, despite being a bit squashed, and I was pleased to finally arrive in London, albeit many hours behind schedule. I was rather shocked to see all the snow though. Unusual for early December and a little tricky for socialising, as most people were snowed in and couldn’t get their cars off the drive!

A week later I flew to France.

Again there was a one and a half hour delay on my flight, but at least we weren’t snowed in. After Christmas with friends in a tiny French village I caught the train to Paris. French trains are generally very efficient and this was no exception. A joyful week in Paris, where I met up with my daughter and her boyfriend, then it was a flight to Morocco, via a budget airline. This was surprisingly good, with absolutely no delays.

Morocco was fabulous of course. I had been to Marrakech before, but this time I was with my daughter and her boyfriend, so we added on a seven hour drive to the desert. I stayed at the Desert Lodge, finishing writing my latest book,

while they ventured into the desert proper to sleep under the stars. Then it was a ten hour car journey back to Essaouria, a charming seaside town.

After another few days it was time to leave that lovely place and fly to Amsterdam, then get the Eurostar back to London.

Now I travelled alone, so constantly wished I had, by this, my 71 st year, learnt how to travel light. Wielding heavy suitcases through foreign airports and railway stations is not much fun, but I only have myself to blame for that discomfort!

London was great. I spent ten days catching up with old friends, walking, admiring the architecture and doing research for my latest book.

Less than an hour before my taxi was due to take me to Heathrow airport, I noticed that one of my suitcases has a small tear, a tear that would surely rip apart if it was handled roughly at the airport. There was no option but to rush out and buy another suitcase. Thanks to a very obliging taxi driver who waited patiently whilst I ran into a busy shop, selected a suitable case, then queued for ages to

pay, I was back at the hotel with ten minutes to spare, to unpack and repack the new case. Not quite the leisurely departure I had hoped for!

Still, despite horrendous traffic, we got to Heathrow in time for me to check in and have a leisurely coffee before boarding. We then sat on the tarmac for another hour and a half while the plane wings were de-iced.

This delay meant time was tight for my connection at Singapore, but the captain assured us that he was in contact with the ground staff and the plane would be held up for our arrival.

On landing I rushed to check which gate my plane was leaving from, only to be told: “So sorry, the gate has just closed. Your luggage is being taken off. Go to Transfer Desk A, they will help you.”

The queue at Transfer Desk A was lengthy, but eventually it was my turn.

“ I’m so sorry, we did try to hold the plane as long as possible. I will try to book you on another flight now.”

“That’s ok. Will I have to collect my luggage and recheck it in?”.

“No, we will get it off the plane and re-direct it for you.”

“Oh, I’ve managed to get you the last seat on the same flight tomorrow, is that ok. You can spend the night in the lounge.”

Perhaps my feelings showed in my face.

“ Oh actually, I can book you into the Crowne Plaza

hotel, here at terminal 3, is that better?”

Of course it was much better. My hotel room was huge, with a beautiful bathroom. I made a cup of coffee, ate some snacks and went to bed at ten pm, making sure to book an alarm call for 5am. I certainly didn’t want to miss the flight.

I was glad I headed to the departure gate so early, as it proved to be a rather long walk. I limped my way along the endless corridors, glad to be almost home at last.

The flight was great, just a small delay and we landed safely at Auckland airport at 11.30pm. Passport control was easy (those electronic gates make everything so much faster) I collected a luggage trolley and waited at the baggage carousel. Almost home now.

Sadly, one suitcase never arrived. The very same case I had been forced to rush out and buy that afternoon. The suitcase that held all my treasures, all the shopping I had done on my trip.

Five days later and the case is still missing. The airline is trying to locate it, but having seen the mountains of lost suitcases at various airports on my trip, I am a little doubtful as to whether I will ever see it again.

But actually I don’t mind too much. In time I will forget what I even bought.

But I will always have my memories. Memories of glorious days exploring new places, meeting old friends and making new ones. In time, all the frustrations and inconveniences will be forgotten and I will happily pack my backs again.

Post COVID, travel is certainly different, but it is definitely still fun!

Pat Backley. Author. Website: www.patbackley.com