I love travelling and especially flying. I mean I love every part of it–even the stressful parts. This is good because over the past few years I have flown a lot. I have missed a plane here and there, but all my flights have gone pretty smoothly so far. Until now.
Heading back home after my first semester at uni, I had a crazy flight experience. I was flying Edinburgh to Dublin, Dublin to Boston, and then Boston to Atlanta, and my parents were going to pick me up from there. I had booked my first two flights through AerLingus and then booked my Boston to Atlanta flight through Delta with some points that I have saved up. This was the cheapest option, so obviously it’s the one I picked.
My flight from Dublin to Boston was going very well. This was the smallest plane I’ve have flown in over the Atlantic. There wasn’t a big group of seats in the middle of the plane. The flight was going very smoothly: I watched A Beautiful Day in the Neighborhood with Tom Hanks, and slept a little. It was all going smoothly, that is, until we got to Boston.
Apparently, there was a really bad storm in Boston, so we had pretty bad turbulence. The pilot would try to land and then pull up the plane really fast so our stomachs would drop. Then he would circle around and try to land again. I had the flight tracker open on the screen on the seat in front of me and kept watching 10 minutes added to our arrival time each time the pilot pulled up and circled around.
The first two times the pilot pulled up, I was fine. Turbulence hasn’t bothered me before. I was feeling like I was in a washing machine, but I kept telling myself that I would and could make it. The third time he pulled up, I grabbed that little throw-up bag and held it to my mouth, sure that I was either about to throw-up or pass out. Sure enough, after a few more circles and stomach summersaults, I threw up, which led to the guy in front of me throwing up, and then a reverberating echo of others throwing up as well.
*Side note about throwing up in an airplane: Double bag it!*
Soon the pilot came on the intercom and told us that it just wasn’t safe to land so we were going to land in Hartford, Connecticut. We finally landed, everybody clapped, and the flight attendants came around to collect our vomit and give us water. An hour passed from the time we were supposed to land in Boston to when we actually landed in Connecticut.
There were now three problems. I missed my connecting flight (Boston to Atlanta), AerLingus does not have a port in the Hartford airport, and there was a customs issue with us landing in Hartford. We sat in the terminal for a long time while the official people were trying to convince the Harford people to let us get off the plane.
I was glad to sit on the terminal for a while because my body needed to recover from the past hour. Finally they convinced the Hartford people to let us get off the plane, and they sent our baggage to baggage claim.
After we got off the plane and got our luggage, we discovered that they were going to rent a bus to take us from the Hartford airport to the Boston airport. However, they didn’t know when the bus would get there. We all spread out and waited.
I finally got my phone connected to the airport WIFI (I temporarily misplaced my US sim card, so I wasn’t able to use data) and I called my parents to tell them what was going on. In all that waiting, I ended up texting Delta and working out my flight.
*Another side note: If you are flying with Delta and need to contact them, I highly recommend downloading their app and texting them to work out your problem. It takes less time and is much more pleasant. I don’t like texting, but prefer this.*
I have a friend who lives between Boston and Hartford and offered to pick me up and take me to Boston whenever I worked out my connecting flight. After my flight for the next day was confirmed, I told her yes, and THANK YOU! She and her fiancé picked me up and took me back to their place. She fixed me some noo-noos (i.e. spaghetti) and garlic bread. My stomach was SO happy. We watched The Office and talked until it was time to leave. It was awesome. I hope one day I can go back and visit longer.
Somehow it worked out that I got to fly back to Birmingham for no extra charge so my parents didn’t have to drive to Atlanta. My mom picked me up from the airport and we went and got Chick-fil-a (of course!).
I FINALLY made it back. I ran on adrenaline for a while before crashing on the couch.
So to recap…
Bad weather and turbulence. I started a disgusting chain reaction on the plane. Rerouted to somewhere we couldn’t go through customs or leave by plane. Missed my connecting flight. Lots of texting with Delta. Overnight with a friend. Direct flight to home. Whew!
What’s your craziest flight story?
