Unfortunately my worst travel experience came when my husband and I had to travel to Florida for my fathers funeral. Since the occasion warranted “last minute” travel, we knew our options would be limited. Little did we know how chaotic this would turn out to be.
Our “adventure” began when we found out it would take a total of 6 different flights to get to Florida and back. Our first flight wasn’t too bad, we were leaving Reno after all. But after that, well, all I can liken it to is a descent into Hell.
After landing in Phoenix with 30 minutes, the entire airport between us and our next gate and an urgent trip to the bathroom needed, to say it was difficult would be a huge understatement. Running through a crowded airport in flip flops and a carryon banging against the hip isn’t what airport security wants to see after 9/11.
Now, our plane change in Chicago was a different story. Our plane stopped and unloaded us onto the tarmac and had to bus us to the terminal, too late to catch our connecting flight, of course. I felt as if we had diverted to some third world country. After that I kind of blacked out and don’t remember much else of the trip. The trip back was so bad I that my therapist says it’s best that I don’t remember.
We’ve decided that if we can’t charter a jet we’ll just drive where we need to go.