Our car trip from Sierra Vista to Tucson was uneventful. Richard was relaxed thanks to the anti-anxiety meds. Traffic was light on the I-10. As we turned onto the road leading to our hotel, which was meant to be a Holiday Inn, we were confused by the “Holiday Inn” sign having disappeared from where we knew the Holiday Inn used to be. There was a sign for another hotel, one whose name we didn’t recognize at all. We parked in front and went into the lobby. The lobby smelled dreadfully stale, the chairs looked dirty and stained. It looked like the Holiday Inn we had stayed at in the past but it also looked as if it had been left to molder. There was a line in front of the rather unkempt-looking hotel clerk. He wore a baseball cap advertising some mechanic shop and an old t-shirt. As I took my place in the line, I heard snippets of conversations from various would-be guests—
‘I’ve looked at the room, it isn’t made up.’
‘Here’s a photo of the bug that was on the sheets.’ The clerk peered at the photo. ‘Oh that’s okay,’ he said. ‘It isn’t a bed bug.’
‘I can’t stay here with my family, it’s filthy, the bathroom has used towels, hairs in the sink, we’re cancelling.’
All of the people in line ahead of us cancelled.
By the time it was my turn at the desk, I’d come to the same conclusion without even having to see the room and when I told the clerk, he shrugged his shoulders and said, ‘That’s fine.’ I told him we had booked through Sleep, Park & Fly and our car was registered to be left here for 10 days; we wouldn’t be doing that of course. He replied that I needed to take that up with the agency I’d booked through but he’d canceled the reservation.
Fine, I’d deal with that later, right now it was 8:00 pm and we needed to find a hotel. I took my cellphone out, logged into Expedia and checked out the other airport hotels. Settled for one we knew, and had still had the Marriott sign outside when we'd driven past, reserved and drove over there. Although the hotel was next to long-term parking, they had their own “sleep, park, fly” arrangement that cost just about the same as it would have had we used long-term parking. And at that point, it was so much easier.
A peaceful night’s sleep, a shuttle over to the airport, we were at the American Airlines desk at the required 5 am, when the desk opened. My app said that the flights were on time for the day. Baggage checked through, airport security so very easy in Tucson, we settled into the departure lounge with an early-morning breakfast sandwich from the concession.
At 10 minutes to 6 my phone pinged with a message from American: Flight delayed an hour and a half, you’ll miss your connection in LAX to Vancouver, please choose another flight. I frantically scrolled through alternatives. No alternative flights until the next day. Tucson is a small airport and airline staff only arrive at the departure desks shortly before the flight is meant to load. Thus there were no American Airlines staff in the departure lounge; ours was meant to have been its earliest flight. Thinking as fast as I could, I realized the best course would be to go back out to the main terminal desk and talk to a human being.
Rousing Richard from his napping, I gave him a brief overview of the situation and hustled him back down to the check in area. He found another chair to sit in while I negotiated with the quite pleasant and sympathetic check in clerk. ‘Oh, yes,’ she said, ‘You’ll miss your connection and we have no available flights that would get you to Vancouver today.’ I explained about our cruise, could we possibly get a flight to Seattle. We could take a train or, like my brother-in-law was doing, a Greyhound bus. ‘Oh no,’ says she, ‘that would mean a whole new fare and, besides, all the flights are booked.’ I must explain that all airlines were scrambling this particular weekend because of a major software issue that had disrupted flights worldwide both Friday and Saturday.
‘However,’ she continued, ‘There are two seats on a Delta Airlines flight that is leaving at the same time as yours would have. And it connects with a Delta flight to Vancouver that would get you there just a your later than ours would have. I can’t book you on another company’s flight but if you hurry….’ The flight was due to leave at 7:20, it was now 6:15. I asked her to please get our bags back from wherever they had gone to (she assured me she’d do that right away) and my thumbs flew across my iPhone keyboard. Luckily I have a Delta app on my phone. Two seats, TUS to YVR. Only two seats available, cattle class. $800. Okay, fine. Done. I hurried over, told R to move to the Delta area and, wheeling our bags over to the kiosks, we obtained our boarding passes, ticketed our bags and once again went through Security. I couldn’t have done this had we been in a large airport.
The rest of our journey that day went without a hitch. R slept through the first flight, dozed at LAX and slept through the second although he couldn't put his tray down because the seat ahead was so close to him. At LAX I watched so many people almost crying in frustration as their flights were delayed and delayed again. Plane wasn’t there, crew wasn’t there. I watched our YVR flight anxiously and when I heard the ‘now boarding’ announcement I almost wept. We were on our way on time, landed in Vancouver 2 and a half hours later. It was the start to a vacation that, blissfully, had no other mishaps. We even traveled back home without mishaps. And the icing on the cake? After I contacted American when we returned and explained about the outbound flights, they refunded me that leg of the journey. For almost as much as paid Delta for the replacement flights.
Maybe we will risk traveling again next year….
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