Yes, I am alive. And no, I have not joined the witness protection program, although upon thinking about it, that doesn't sound like a bad idea. So then, where have I been for the last three months? No blog posts, radio silent. Alas, I'll have to save that story for another time. For now, I have a summer trip to finish covering before summer 2025 rolls around and there is a new trip to cover (not to mention all of life that has happened in between).
So where did I leave off? Ah yes, waking up in Lucerne on the morning of July 28th, thinking we were homeward bound. It was to be the last day of our 42-day European adventure. Our long journey home involved trains, planes, and stopovers, seemingly everywhere. But I had no idea, upon awakening, just how much longer the trip was going to become.
Since I went to bed about fifteen minutes before this message came in the night before, I didn't see it until my alarm went off at 6 AM on the morning of our departure. This is not the news you want to awaken to when you have a twenty-plus hour journey ahead of you with four kids. "Canceled?" "Unable to rebook?" What is that supposed to mean? Are we living in Europe now? That might not be so bad!
I shot out of bed, got the kids up, and told them to start getting ready immediately. I had no idea what lay ahead of us for the day. I took a deep breath and rung up American Airlines in hopes of some better news. The representative who took my call calmly presented me with my (only) two options. The first was for all of us to split up and fly home separately, from Europe to the US, Fly separately? Did I hear that right? Is that even legal? Well, if is, it's got to be the worst idea I've ever heard! Was this the better or worse of the two options?
The second option, he explained, was for us to fly to London on the flight we were already scheduled to be on that afternoon from Zurich and then remain in London for eight days until they could get us out. Eight days? Are you out of your mind, Mr. American Airlines phone representative? I didn't take him seriously until he made it clear that there were no other options. Facing Sophie's choice and figuring if I stayed on with this guy any longer, we would most likely miss our train and plane out of Switzerland, I begrudgingly chose option two, London for eight days, as opposed to the even more egregious, option one. I hoped that once we arrived at Heathrow later that day, there might be more palatable options
We hurried to finish our last-minute packing and bolted from our Airbnb to catch our train from Lucerne to Zurich. We were packed like sardines into the standing-room-only train. We managed to make our on-time flight out of Zurich, which was astonishing. But what lay ahead in London? That was anyone's guess and left a pit in my stomach.
When we arrived in London, in the late afternoon, we were met with utter chaos. Not only had our flight been canceled, carrying five hundred plus passengers, but another flight going to Philadelphia (also holding the number of people) had also been canceled. That left approximately one thousand stranded, angry, and desperate passengers all in line trying to find a way home, at the height of the summer travel season.
After spending nearly eight hours at Heathrow, waiting, arguing, begging, and nearly crying, we finally had a game plan. We would fly home, together, two days later, on Virgin Atlantic, rather than American Airlines. I had to use every trick in my bag to accomplish that feat, as the airport agent continued to insist we would have to remain in London for eight days before they could get us home, together, on one plane.
To add insult to injury, the only complimentary accommodations they offered us were at a bed-bug-ridden hotel, as you see above. That is the best American Airlines (with $54.2 billion in revenue a year) has to offer its stranded and beleaguered travelers.
Nauseated at the thought of the bedbug-ridden hotel, I got on the Airbnb website and found us a place to stay in Notting Hill. which was only a mere two more train rides and a ninety-minute or so journey. Although not much better than the hotel the airline offered, at least it seemed not to have bedbugs, which was a step up. And who knows, maybe we'd run into Hugh Grant in the neighborhood. By the time we arrived, it was close to 10 PM.
We were exhausted. But there is no rest for the weary. That would be me, in case you hadn't already figured that out. As soon as I got everyone fed, settled in, and to bed, I got to work on our one-day itinerary for London, the next day. Heck, if we were going to be stuck there, we were going to do some sightseeing and make the best of it. With only one full day, I had to pack it in, and boy did I! I stayed up until nearly 2 AM planning, purchasing tickets, etc. We were to be up that morning by 6:30, so we could be ready and out the door to explore London.
Tune in to see how we spent our one amazing (and very tiring) day in London! I promise it won't take me another three months to get to the next post, unless I end up joining the witness protection program after all, in which case, it was nice knowing all of you.
Remembering Fitzy...
This is the last photo I have of Fitzy and me together, taken on April 20, 2024, just two months before his passing. He loved it when I held him like a baby. Even at 14 1/2 years old, he was always going to be my baby and always will. I miss you more than you will ever know, my sweet angel.
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