Hi readers, I’m back from my Ireland vacation and I have so much to share.
I don’t want to seem like that annoying person on Facebook always bragging about doing X, Y and Z super awesome trip of a lifetime blah blah blah. I realize blogging about it is walking a fine line, so in case anyone out there wants to not-so-secretly punch me in the face for this, I apologize.
You don’t have to continue reading. But you may want to.
I’ll start at the end, the journey back home, a nightmarish airline travel scenario with Canada Air that has almost made me hate the entire country as a whole. That is too harsh; the people of Canada don’t deserve my wrath. The airline people do. DOOM on you Air Canada.
Ever heard of Goose Bay? I’ve been there. Want to know what Halifax airport looks like? I’ll tell you, lots of prop planes and pure wilderness. Oh and Toronto? I’ve been there too! All three in one day…
The first five hours: We left Tullamore to drive to Dublin Airport at 6:45 am. We dropped off our car, our bags and made it to the gate with plenty of time to peruse the gift shops before our 10:45 departure. Using a giant handful of leftover 50 and 20 cent Euro coins I bought a hunk of brown soda bread and a giant Toblerone bar. Nom nom nom. I was feeling pretty happy and didn’t even react when the flight was delayed until 12:00 noon.
Eventually we board the plane and settle into our seats for a nice 1 hour wait on the tarmac. Right before takeoff, the pilot comes on to inform us that our plane doesn’t have enough fuel to cross the Atlantic and make it to our final destination of Toronto. This will require is stopping in Goose Bay to refuel.
Okay, not the most comforting thing to hear right before rocketing into the sky. While I appreciate the airline considering our safety and diverting us to Goose Bay, I couldn’t help but wonder why we were using a plane that couldn’t hold enough fuel in the first place? Awesome.
The next 5 hours: We’ve made it to Goose Bay and have been assured this will be a ‘quick turnaround’ procedure. The airline refueling folks did a bang-up job and got us outta there in a blazing 1 hour 15 minutes. Shortly after reaching a comfortable cruising altitude and generously turning off the fasten seat-belt sign the captain comes on to inform us that we will be flying to Halifax to change flight crews, as this one needed to be off-duty. What the F@CK? Was Air Canada unable to grasp the fact that we had just landed and could possibly have gotten new crew there? Killing two birds with one stone people!
The next 8 hours: There is a palpable sense of mutiny amongst the passengers. The flight attendants are hiding in the galley. I overheard one whispering with genuine concern “we are out of ice and don’t have enough snacks…” She was afraid- of us. Upon landing in Halifax we were assured crew would be waiting to board the plane right away. Apparently Air Canada thinks 2 hours is an appropriate amount of time to change crews and get “new load figures” -whatever the f@ck those are- and still qualify as being ‘right away’. Oh and sorry, you have to stay on the airplane but feel free to get up and stretch. Gee, thanks, I was planning on sitting quietly stewing in my rage with my hands folded in my lap, but not now!
Now we are back en route to Toronto, having wasted four hours flying to Nova Scotia and getting new crew. The crew put the movie reel back in, at the beginning, meaning I now had the opportunity to watch Brave, Happy Feet 2 and the first 5 minutes of The Big Year for the third time today. I’m still not that mad.
We have been on this God forsaken aircraft for 13 hours by the time we land in Toronto at 12:30 pm Irish time, 7:30 EST. The captain thanks us for flying Air Canada and for being patient (did I have another f@cking option?). I have accepted the fact that I will miss my connection to DC. I never thought it was possible to miss it, as I had a whopping 7 hour layover, but Air Canada showed me that it is possible!
3/4ths of the plane’s passengers were trying to make connections and each one of them was 100% pissed off. I strapped on my backpack and started running in the hopes my DC flight might have been delayed- it was, but I stilled missed it. My flight to DC left at 7:22.
Don’t get between a man and his connecting flight
The last 5 hours: Air Canada knows they are in deep shit. They’ve stuck the interns with handing out vouchers for discounted airfare to all the irate passengers. They have booked hotel rooms and awarded generous $15 certificates for dinner and breakfast. For me? You shouldn’t have!
Now, I’m actually mad, a silent sort of anger. I refuse to spend the night. I read the departure board and tell the ticketing agent that I want to go onto the 8:50 flight to Baltimore, which is one hour away from DC. At this point I have 30 minutes to make it through customs, recheck my bag and get to the gate. I run run run and make it just as the last passenger is walking down the jetway. Relax. Sigh. I’m in. We land in Baltimore at 3:30 am Irish time, 10:30 pm EST.
My luggage is nowhere to be found. The Air Canada service desk is empty. I have to spend $125 dollars to get to DC in a cab manned by a friendly Ethiopian who wanted to talk to me the whole time.
I get to my apartment, it’s midnight. My husband is sleeping soundly and I want nothing more than to punch him in the face for that offense. If I’m unhappy, he should be unhappy!!!!
My 23 hour voyage is over and my own bed has never felt so good.
My bag arrived in DC the next day. We were happily reunited.
Note: I plan on doing some feature posts over the coming week to share with you what we saw and did in Ireland, complete with some real Irish recipes! So check back soon