Just when you think you’re out …

Posted on
Jan 8, 2010
Posted in: Random Musings

your flight gets canceled … or redirected to Madrid.

I have to say, and I realize I’m tempting fate just by putting these words to print, we’ve been really lucky when it comes to delays, cancellations, and sitting on the tarmac for hours on end. Unfortunately, as of late our friends have not been so lucky, particularly those heading to and from the U.K.

First, there was our lovely friend Jane’s inadvertent trip to Madrid when she was trying to fly back to London from Florida a few days ago. Apparently, since the U.K. is entirely covered in snow and ice (no, really, ENTIRELY), she was re-routed to Spain. And while this frustrated her, I noted that in the U.S., when you can’t fly into your intended airport, you end up in some place like Newark, not Madrid. So I’d start pouring the rioja and devouring the tapas and thank my lucky stars that Europe is so gloriously small and wonderful.

Besides, doesn’t it make for a great story? And awesome photos taken on your mobile phone?

Jane - I totally nicked this from your twitter feed. I feel no remorse.

Jane - I totally nicked this from your Twitter feed. I feel no remorse.

Of course, I understand and sympathize with just wanting to get where you’re supposed to be. Our friend (and my husband’s colleague) Will was in Seattle from London this week. He not only got hit with a three-hour delay on his way here (after having to connect through Amsterdam. Apparently every single bag was search an additional time, and everyone was patted down at the gate), but yesterday as he was trying to head back home, he had all sorts of interesting news to report via Twitter.

First, his flight was delayed …

In reply, people tried to explain American football rules to him.

In reply, people tried to explain American football rules to him.

And then …

Apparently the pilot got sick. Better this way than four hours into a flight, I guess.

Apparently the pilot got sick. Better this way than four hours into a flight, I guess.

Fortunately, it was one of those rare times that I was hooked to my computer screen (gasp – when on earth does that happen?) so I was able to keep my hubby informed of the goings on and as luck would have it, Will was able to come over for an old-fashioned slumber party (except, you know, he slept in our guest room, no one’s underwear was frozen, and – much to my chagrin – the boys refused to play Truth or Dare. Can’t blame a girl for trying). We said good-bye to him yet again this morning, so fingers crossed he’ll be over the pond by sometime very, very late this evening (PST). Or tomorrow morning GMT.

Good luck with that, Will.

In the meantime, I’m thanking our lucky stars that …

  1. We live only a half-hour away from the airport
  2. My mom lives even closer than that and always has plenty of extra room
  3. Jane finally got home. Probably … actually, I should double-check on that … Yes. Yes, she made it.
  4. We finally found a pragmatic use for Twitter
  5. We got bonus-hang-out time with Will!

And of course, the next time we get delayed in London, I expect reciprocity, Critchlow. Because of you, we were unable to offer our spare room to a hobo drifter for the night. You think about that.

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  • You would love some of the notes I wrote as I sat at Madrid. They’re delirious ramblings, but I basically decomposed the societal structure of a stranded 747’s population. The British Journal of Sociology will be calling me soon, I believe.

  • …and I’m still only just a little bit freaked out at the fresh change of clothes and toiletries you had all ready and waiting for me.

    Seriously though, thank you both for being super-awesome hosts with no notice on a random Thursday night.

    You rock.

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