This is totally harshing my Italy vibe.

I know airline stories are like bad childbirth stories (spare us the gory details!), but I’m writing this anyway. (you know, catharsis).

After getting up at 3:30 AM to catch my flight from Milan, I got to the airport to find they’d re-booked all of my flights – this meant that I didn’t have a lot of time to spare at Heathrow. I arrived with less than the minimum amount of time recommended between terminals, and sprinted to security. The guy there took a look at my boarding card and signalled to the people in the Fast Track line to take care of me, saying, “you have ONE HOUR.” I ran off, stripping myself of belts and shoes as I went, with the theme to Mission Impossible swelling in the background.

I made that connection, but my luggage didn’t. Due to filing my lost luggage report, I missed my connection to SL – they rebooked me on the next flight, I boarded, and then…

Flight Attendant: Was that lighting?

(Interesting FAA Fact: At an airport, if traffic control sees lighting, nobody gets to move for five minutes. Ground crews go inside, everything stops.)

We were on the tarmac for six hours.

That actually wasn’t so bad. The flight attendants were great, and the plane developed something of a cocktail party atmosphere (though I don’t usually sleep through 50 % of cocktail parties).

They led us back through the airport, and we found ourselves outside security. This was a mistake. If you ever get stuck in an airport due to a weather cancellation, avoid leaving the gate area. They have carpet there. And for non-airline-caused cancellations, they won’t put you up in a hotel.

A nice Korean guy and I found a space on the second floor by the chapel, and I slept with my pack towel under me, and my pashmina over me.

The next day went something like this: Stand in line. Get standby tickets. Fail to clear standby. Be told by arm-folded desk agent that he/she can’t help us and he/she is off duty anyway. Repeat.

I did weasel my way into the Crown lounge and got biscuits, drinks, and a nap in a comfy chair.

One of the other girls and I were bonding over our hardships.
Girl: I don’t want to spend another night on the floor with one of their little pillows!
Pause.
Me: You had a pillow?
Girl: It was a really small one!

Then, magically, standby worked. My Korean friend and I were the last people on the plane, and were ridiculously excited to be there. I watched the weather, practiced my yoga breathing until we actually were in the air, and seriously considered biting my nails.

I have never been so happy to see those big salt flats and touch down in Utah.

How did my life go so quickly from “idyllic” to “I want my mummy!” on the Suckometer? But to be honest, it was a small price to pay for three months of easy living, and I didn’t have any of the horror stories of some of the other passengers (missed wedding, lost job, split up from kids).

The flight was a stunning journey – I had window seats, and so saw the snowy alps and blue lakes by Milan, then a picture postcard view over the Thames, where I got to count the famous edifices- Tower Bridge, Millennium dome, Big Ben, Westminster Abbey, Buck House. Then New York,and the wild west.

Now, if they could just find my luggage…