Flying home

The Good News:

There were kiosks scattered throughout the Sydney airport with free internet. So we were able to send a couple of emails and tell our friends the Bad News.

Photo of the Bad Plane

The BAD news:

“Your flight has been cancelled,” said the clerk at the check-in counter with a friendly smile.

“What?”

“I’m sorry, your flight has been cancelled due to mechanical problems.  Don’t worry,” she continued, seeing the stricken look on my face.  “I’ll get you on another flight.”

And she did.  We’re now flying home on Quantas, which will probably be a much nicer flight since I know it was more expensive, not that we have to pay the difference.  United still flies old planes, with the movie screens hanging in the center aisle.  Quantas has the better planes with the screen in the seatback in front of you, so you can choose what to watch.

We didn’t get an upgrade to Business Class, though I asked, just in case I got her in a weak moment.  But Quantas is already an upgrade and that, coupled with the free internet access at the airport, is already making this a good day.

And now, the Sequel.

Qantas is indeed a more comfy plane.  Unfortunately, though, this plane too had a minor mechanical problem.  Something electrical wasn't working and so we were slightly delayed.  The captain came on the PA to explain that it was fixed and we were now ready to take off.  They revved up the 4 engines and hurtled down the runway when suddenly there was a loud noise, the plane skewed and fishtailed, and the brakes were being vigorously applied.  Then we sat there while the fire engines arrived and covered the smoking engine with foam.

Qantas had a flame-out, the captain explained to us, and we taxied back to the terminal.  I thought it was a blown engine and really, I'm not sure what the difference is.  One of the passengers behind the engines said he saw a 30 foot flame shoot out from the engine, though there might be some hyperbole there.

As we were preparing to deplane, the captain announced that they were bringing a fresh plane to the terminal and making it ready for the flight, so we didn't have to worry that we would be continuing on the same defective plane.   

To help pass the time in the terminal, which was 4 hours, we were each given a $30 food voucher good at any restaurant.  Hans and I only needed one voucher, which bought a glass of wine, a glass of beer, half a ham and cheese baguette, and  small plates of tapas.  We gave our second voucher to a dad with his young daughter who were just heading to one of the food courts.

So we were only 4 hours late arriving in LA and of course missed our connection from LA to Phoenix, along with lots of other people too.  Qantas was very well organized and where we picked up our bags in LA, the ground agent already had information on the flight we were to take to Phoenix, so we just had to haul our 3 big suitcases and Hans' golf clubs one mile down the sidewalk to Terminal 7, which was the very last terminal.  I huffed and I puffed, but we got there and saw with dismay that all the United check-in counters were packed with people.

"Our plane leaves in an hour," I said to a United lady directing passengers hither and yon.

"You'll have to get in this line," she said and opened the gate for us.  There were many in front of us, and only 4 agents working.  All the other terminals were for electronic tickets, and we didn't have one. Just a voucher stating we were to get on this particular flights.

It was very stressful as it seemed each person lined before an agent had a serious and long-winded problem to discuss and time was ticking away.  We finally got to the counter.

"You'll be on standby for this flight," said the agent.

"What!  United cancelled our flight out of Sydney, Qantas blew and engine, we've missed our connection, we've been travelling for 24 hours and we're on standby???"

"I'll put you on Priority Standby," she amended, and that was that.

To make this already long story a bit shorter, we did get on the plane, but Hans' suitcase did not.  And we had a scant 5 minutes to call our friend in Mesa to let him know what flight we were going to be on so he could come and pick us up.

We've come home, and hopefully, so will Hans' suitcase.