Anyway, as most of you know, I was unexpectedly able to come home to Chicago for Christmas. That was not originally in the plans; my grandpa was meant to come visit just after Christmas and through the new year to do a tour of Italy with me. However, he ran into some health issues; his carotid artery was 80% blocked, so he had surgery right away. As it was a fairly substantial surgery, he couldn't fly immediately afterwards, so we rescheduled our trip for August. And he offered to fly me home for Christmas, which I (of course) accepted. I must not be quite as independent as I think I am (or perhaps I'm more sentimental than I realize...) because the thought of missing out on Christmas at home with my family was torturous. No longer did I have to be insanely jealous of all my friends here when they talked about going home to see their people.
By the way, in case anyone was concerned, my grandfather is healthy as a horse. He was a trooper through the surgery, and you'd never guess that he's seventy-years-old. He thinks his scar makes him look like Frankenstein, but it's healing beautifully. The spider bite/staph infection surgical scar on my chest is much more unsightly. I do look like the bride of Frankenstein under bright lights.
My next quest was then to find a flight at Christmastime, with less than three weeks' notice, that was not going to cost the same as buying a new kidney on the black market. The situation looked pretty grim initially; finding a flight that cost less than $2000 that involved less than fifty hours of travel seemed as likely as walking a block anywhere inGermany and not seeing someone (male or female) sporting a scarf (i.e. slim to none).
However, through some creative booking, I did manage to find a way. Instead of flying from the Stuttgart airport, I booked a flight out of Frankfurt. It's only about 90 minutes on the ICE from Stuttgart (and about 30 euros), and it's a much bigger airport, with a lot more flights. So that alone knocked off about $500. I also took advantage of the fact that I am still (for the moment...) under twenty-six, so I used a website called Student Universe. While they don't always save you a substantial amount of money, it's always worth checking, and I found some good bargains in the past (my flight to Stuttgart from Chicago in the fall was an $1100 flight from SwissAir that I paid $400 for). Ultimately, we ended up paying $1300 for a round-trip flight from Germany to Chicago at Christmas. Not too shabby.
My biggest worry for this trip was taking the train from Stuttgart to Frankfurt. As a child of suburbia, relying on public transportation is still worrying. What if I went to the wrong platform? Or got off at the wrong stop? Or if the train is running late? Or breaks down? (this is where having an active imagination is crippling as you think of every possible scenario, regardless of if it's actually possible).
And it didn't help that I didn't exactly start off my journey in a prudent manner. The night before I left, George and I met up for a farewell drink, lost track of time, and I missed the last S-Bahn back into Kornwestheim. So, I slept on his couch, then woke up at 5 am to be back in time to finish packing and take care of my morning duties for Nicole and the kids.
As it turns out, my worries about the train were entirely and completely unfounded. That was the smoothest (arguably, the ONLY smooth part...) part of the entire journey. The ICE is quite a bit nicer than most planes I have been on, it was on time, and I even got in a little nap before arriving at the airport.
Which is where all the fun really began. My flight was indirect and through AirCanada. I was meant to fly from Frankfurt to Montreal, then Montreal to Chicago. Upon check-in, I was informed that the flight to Montreal was delayed by two-and-a-half hours, so I would miss my connecting flight to Chicago and have to stay in Montreal overnight. In a moment (some would argue that I have more than moments of this..) of being a stereotypical American, the thought of spending a substantial amount of time in Canada was unacceptable. So, with the help of some contact rewetting drops, and Bon Iver on a loop, I convinced AirCanada to book me in on a new flight. I now would fly from Frankfurt to Ottawa, then through to Chicago, and be home in time for dinner. Or so I thought.
Naturally, the fun didn't end there. While the flight to Ottawa boarded on time, we sat on the runway for over an hour before actually taking off. This was punctuated by repeated assurances from the flight crew that it would "just be another fifteen minutes." (yes, that is a real thing that they do.)
The flight itself went off without incident (though I will say that the food and quality of economy seating in Air Canada does not hold a candle to either SwissAir or especially AirNewZealand. However, as a result of our late departure, myself and about ten other passengers had only about forty minutes to collect our bags, get through Canadian and US customs before catching the connecting flight to Chicago. As you'd probably expect, none of us made it on the flight. I was the closest to accomplishing that miracle, as my suitcase did somehow manage to make it on the plane to Chicago.
And so then began the delightful process of trying to get back. The group of us first dealt with a very surly United agent, who refused to do anything. She essentially said that we were AirCanada's problem, as it was their flight's late arrival, not their flight's (early...) departure that caused the issue.
We all angrily commiserated for a bit before an Air Canada agent finally came to sort us out. What it came down to was that they had to put us in a motel for the night (no more flights that evening...the Ottawa airport is small), and then fly us all out in the morning. To which my response (which I accidentally did say out loud...I blame sleep deprivation and travel exhaustion) was, "A night in Canada? This is my nightmare!". Which rather shocked the (very nice) Canadian girl in line behind me. Barney Stinson doesn't have anything on my feelings toward Canada, which were only enforced by this entire experience.
Next came the thirty minute cab ride from the airport to the motel, which I would assume is on the outskirts of Ottawa. Air Canada also gave us a $14 voucher for food at the hotel restaurant (note: no entré on that menu is less than $16...). I had soup and bruschetta, in case anyone was curious.
The room they gave me was actually kind of nice; a giant suite which could have comfortably fit a family of five. However, the toilet wouldn't stop running, so I had to dismember it a bit before showering and collapsing on the bed. The fact that I didn't have my suitcase also became bothersome, as I had no toiletries, and had now been wearing the same clothes for 36 hours (smelled like a daisy, in case anyone was wondering...). So, I slept naked on the king-sized bed (probably lucky that I didn't catch a disease or shine a black light around). I was up again at 4 am, put back on my smelly clothes, and took another cab back to the airport.
I checked in and made it through security for the first flight without issue (Ottawa to Toronto), then used my other $10 meal voucher toward breakfast. Coffee and a breakfast sandwich came to $10.26. I gave then a $10 in USD to cover the difference, and got change back in Canadians dollars. Just what I'd always wanted. I'm just glad I didn't pay the difference in Euros.
This flight also left the airport late, but luckily my flight to Chicago was also delayed so it all worked out okay, even with me getting extra attention at security. Because, apparently, the name "Meghann Marie Gallimore" sets off red flags.
Thankfully, this final flight went off smoothly, and I began the break by hip-checking my sister out of the front seat when she hopped out to help me with my bags and hug me (that position in the car is my birthright as the eldest child). I don't know how anyone could stand to get close to me at that point, but, hey, that's what family is for right.
As much of a pain as getting home was, my bitterness quickly subsided once I put things into perspective. This entire trip was on borrowed time, so to speak. I was not supposed to come home at all, so even losing a day in travel was okay. This entire time was a precious gift.
Plus, if this is the worst travel experience I ever had, I should count myself lucky. My luggage turned up, I made it there alive, and (aside from the $2.26 on food) it didn't cost me a thing.
Also, five months later, I just find the entire situation to be a hilarious comedy of errors. It's amazing how much perspective time gives you.
And here are some photos of the Stuttgart Christmas market. Just to keep this post from being ENTIRELY an angry rant of text.
Schlossplatz. Looking lovely
Some truly delicious looking desserts. I used up all my willpower not eating any of it.
A very small, but rather attractive Ferris wheel.
Another shot of Schlossplatz. Notice the (in George's words) "Meg-sized" child's train set. You actually can ride it, but we never did. Should have borrowed Maja one day for that.
