If Hell is real, it's an airport. There is no other place that manages to continuously shatter hopes and dreams quite like an airport. You go there hoping to head out for an adventure or a nice vacation and instead you're faced with waiting in line, losing your shit in the security check, waiting in more lines, waiting for your flight, losing your way, crappy airport food, too many people and waiting for your luggage only to realise the airline has lost it. No, honestly, airports are Hell. If you ever meet someone who says 'I actually like airports', they're probably an alien or a demon out to steal your soul.
We were supposed to fly back home on the 5th of January, around 22.00, so we had the whole day to kill in New York. It started snowing on the 4th of January and it was a pretty bad storm. It was cold, windy and the snow just kept coming and coming. Almost all the flights to and out of New York were cancelled that day but I didn't worry. The storm was supposed to subside by nightfall and that it did. The 5th of January was actually a pretty lovely, albeit cold day. We went to the Guggenheim museum (boring, do not recommend) and then headed to JFK airport after getting lunch.
So we get there and go through the security check and get to our gate to see that our Lufthansa plane was already at our gate. 'Great!' I thought, 'We still have like three hours to go but the fact that the plane is here is a good sign'. The only problem was that the monitors above the gate were telling us that the next flight out of that gate would go to Jeddah. It had been delayed and would leave at 20.00. I didn't think much of it at that moment because our flight to Frankfurt seemed to be okay.
Fast forward about two hours. It was 20.00. The flight to Jeddah still hadn't left. In the meantime they moved our Lufthansa plane out of the way to make room for the plane that was supposed to take the others to Jeddah. That was... a bit upsetting but I was sure they would just find us another gate or something.
One and a half hours later...
It was 21.30. The plane going to Jeddah had arrived but wasn't going anywhere. People were waiting. We were waiting. There was no information and the airport was getting more crowded by the minute because flights kept on getting delayed.
Then it was 22.00 and we still didn't have any information about our flight that was supposed to be leaving already. It took a little more waiting until they finally changed our flight status to delayed and told us it would be leaving at midnight. That meant we would miss our connecting flight to Tallinn. I was not too happy about that but it was only the beginning.
Fast forward two hours. Yes, again. It was midnight. The flight to Jeddah had still not left and we had no information about our flight to Frankfurt. Nothing. It was already midnight and nobody would update us on what was happening. Around 00.30 we found out that our gate had been changed and our flight would leave at 2 in the morning. Great! Just great! We went to our new gate and sat there, feeling pretty upset and tired. We'd been waiting for ages now and it was getting pretty tedious. But that wasn't the worst of it.
'Okay, guys, all of you heading to Franfurt - you need to get your stuff and go to the baggage claim to receive your checked luggage! Your flight has been cancelled!'
Yes, after all that waiting they cancelled our flight. Not because of the weather but because the crew couldn't legally fly anymore - they needed a certain amount of rest before they could fly again. So, long story short: our flight was cancelled because another flight hijacked our gate and the airport couldn't get their shit together.
But wait, there's more!
We headed down to the baggage claim, 300 or so people, and waited for our luggage. We were all tired, angry, disappointed and confused. 'What now?' was the question on everybody's lips but there were no answers. Nobody would tell us what was going to happen to us now: there were no airport employees around and the few that appeared rushed away in an instant. So we just waited for our luggage. And waited... and waited... and waited...
One hour later! Yes, for about an hour we waited with no answers and no luggage. Nothing was happening. And then an announcer told us that the door to the cargo hold had frozen over and they couldn't get it open - that's what the wait was. Just wonderful news, right? In the meantime I started noticing that there were a few airport employees in the baggage claim and they were providing information... but only if you went up to them and asked for it. No general announcement to the 300+ people - just one lady in a corner somewhere, waiting for people to come to her.
We found out that since our flight was cancelled we had to contact Lufthansa and ask them to re-book us. The employees gave us little cards with phone numbers on them and told us to call. Of course, if you have 300 people calling one number at the same time, it's no wonder almost nobody can get through. The line was busy and there was no hope of solving the situation at that moment. Then, the airport employees started to hand out hotel vouchers. They told us that after we get our luggage - whenever that might be - we had to go out of the airport where shuttles would take us to our respective hotels. Then, at 11.00 the shuttles would take us back to the airport so we could catch our new flight or get another voucher (because the hotel vouchers were only valid for one night).
Okay, great! At least we had some semblance of a plan. We finally got our luggage and headed outside to catch the shuttle... only there were none. Only rows and rows of taxis and nothing else. 'The buses will be here,' yelled an airport employee and disappeared into the night, never to be seen again. It was cold, we were tired and now we had to wait for a bus that wasn't even sure to appear. There was a lady from our flight that told me and my mom that we could also take a taxi, keep the receipt and then ask for reimbursement from Lufthansa so that was what we decided to do. We took a taxi to our hotel, which was 45 minutes away, and paid 200 dollars for it.
After getting a solid 4 hours of sleep we woke up in our hotel and headed to the reception to find out what the plan was. Turns out Lufthansa had decided to prolong our stay in the hotel for another night - nobody was going to the airport because no flights would be leaving - at least not for us. So we stayed and contacted Lufthansa to get re-booked. That turned out to be almost impossible. They offered us a flight on the 9th of January (just as a reminder, it was the 6th and the 9th was a Tuesday) through London, Frankfurt and Tallinn (yup, sounds weird but that's what they told us). I asked them to check other airports - Newark, La Guardia - for any earlier flights but there was nothing... And then I asked about Philadelphia. There was one flight on the 8th of January through Munich and then to Tallinn. It wasn't perfect but at least it was better than waiting until Tuesday and then having two connecting flights. We took that one.
We thought it would be a good idea to head to Philadelphia on the 7th - by bus because even the internal flights were getting cancelled - spend a night there and then be ready on the 8th. We made the arrangements, booked our bus tickets and our hotel and then we waited. There was nothing else to do. The hotel we were staying at (Hyatt Regency on Long Island) was in the middle of nowhere. There was an overgrown park on one side and a landfill on the other and the weather was still cold as hell so we decided to stay in. The whole day we could see new groups of people coming in - people who's flights had also been cancelled - and the whole scene looked like something out of a war movie. You just had these groups of tired, broken people who were confused, angry and in despair and that were trading 'war stories' about their airport experiences:
'We had no idea what was going on! There was no plane, no crew and nobody knew if the flight was cancelled or delayed.'
'I got re-booked for Wednesday but I have a family back home! Kids! They're waiting for their daddy to come home!'
'I was on the plane... I was on there. We almost made it... and then they turned back and told us we had to get off. I was already on!'
The whole building was filled with anxious, tired people who just wanted to go home and you could feel the tension in the air. My mom and I decided that the sooner we got to Philadelphia the better. Sure, Lufthansa was paying for our hotel but we didn't want to stay in a place filled with broken dreams and despair. We needed to leave. So the next day, on the 7th we got an Uber and headed to Manhattan to catch our bus. I think it was the right thing to do because by midday on the 7th there was no word from Lufthansa or the airport if they would extend our stay for another night, give us another voucher or take all the passengers from the cancelled flights back to the airport.
We got to Manhattan pretty quick and had a nice lunch before heading to the bus terminal. Our bus was supposed to leave at 15.00 but we were 15 minutes early (because our ticket told us to). Waiting in line I heard a woman say 'I can't believe I have to wait 2 hours for a freaking bus!' Wait, what? What was that? Why was she waiting for that long? And then a terminal worker told us:
'So, for the people that just arrived, here's an announcement. We don't have any buses at the moment. They should be coming in but we don't know when. But don't worry: we have the drivers and everything else is set so if the buses do come in we have to clean them, fill them up with gas and then we're gonna get you on there. There are still people that are waiting for their 1 o'clock and 2 o'clock buses so we're gonna put them on first...'
Yeah, I was getting the distinct feeling that I was cursed. First the flight and now the bus?! The bus should have been a sure thing! But no, of course not. Once things started to fall apart they wouldn't stop until there was nothing left but a burning rubble. So, there was nothing to do but wait... and wait... and wait... in a cold bus terminal with no seats... for two hours. No, I'm not even exaggerating. It took them two hours to get some buses ready and get us on there. Two freaking hours of standing in line and waiting for the bus!
But wait, there's more!
That wasn't the end of it. We got to Philadelphia at 20 and went to our hotel. Turns out they had a busted water pipe so the kitchen didn't have any warm food and the emergency lights were constantly blinking. Compared to everything else that'd happened up to that point, it was a small issue. At least our room was pretty okay and we got a good night's rest. The next day we had breakfast and headed straight to the airport, ready to finally get out of the US.The flight was on time, the plane was ready at the gate and despite the fact that the boarding time was delayed maybe ten minutes or so, everything went according to plan. I got into the plane, took my seat next to an anxious-looking German lady, browsed the movie selection for a bit and then chose one to start watching. And then I sat there and watched my movie. Some time passed... and then more time passed... and then more time... and then I realised I was an hour into the movie, which meant we'd been standing in place for an hour, not moving anywhere.
Then our captain tuned on the intercom and told us what was wrong. The area surrounding the plane was covered in ice, meaning the cargo trucks had a very hard time getting to the plane and loading our luggage on. We needed to be patient and wait while they negated the icy roads. Okay, it wasn't perfect but at least it was understandable. There was ice-rain coming down that day so no wonder it was slippery. And at least we were given information about what was going on. So, I focused on my movie and tried to stay calm.
Then my movie ended. Did I mention it was a two hour movie? Yeah, the movie ended and I realised we'd been standing in place for two hours. The German lady in the next seat told me that she'd been waiting to get home since Thursday - her flight was supposed to leave on that day and they even got on to the plane but after two hours of waiting the captain decided to cancel the flight and forced everyone out. So, understandably, she was a bit on edge... and so was I.
Another half hour passed until we started moving, but only a bit. We still needed to go to the de-icing station to get the plane de-iced. So we waited. Another half an hour passed. We'd been waiting for three full hours now and I felt my hands starting to shake. I was at my breaking point. After all the bullshit I'd went through the past three days, this was almost the final straw. I wanted to throw a fit, to yell and scream and tell the captain to just get us off the ground - de-icing and safety was for losers anyway - but I knew I couldn't. If even one of the passengers became hysterical or showed signs of distress, they would be forced to turn the plane around and de-board us. And that was the last thing I wanted.
'Don't worry, guys, it shouldn't be too much longer now,' said the captain through the intercom, 'We're in line for the de-icing process now. We're the 10th or 12th plane in line and the line is moving. It should only take about five to ten minutes to de-ice so it shouldn't be too much longer. Hold on, guys, we're almost done.'
My math isn't great but even I could figure out that if there were 10 planes in front of us and it would take minimum 5 minutes to de-ice one of them then... I wouldn't call it being 'almost done'. Sure enough it took us another hour before we were finally done with the de-icing and could take off.
In the end we didn't get stuck in Philadelphia so I guess you could say that all's well that ends well? Except it's not. Waiting four hours in an airplane with no food or water is excruciating, especially if you've already suffered an emotional trauma from having your flight cancelled. We had a twelve hour layover in Munich (which turned to eight hours thanks to our flight being so late) and we had the chance to go to town and look around a bit but we didn't. By that point we were already too tired to care about anything other than our next flight.
Once we hit Europe everything was going smoothly again. Our flight to Tallinn was on time, we arrived 5 minutes before midnight on the 9th and spent the night in the airport hotel because neither of us was willing to drive home after such an ordeal. I got back to my place on the 10th and spent most of the day just sleeping - I'd never had jetlag as bad as this last time. And that's the story of how I missed my first day of work in Viljandi (I did let them know I was in trouble though, so it wasn't a big issue)! I wish I could say that all the things I had to endure made me stronger or that I learned something about myself but I don't want to find anything good about the experience. It was horrific, exhausting and just the worst thing I've ever experienced... travelling. Okay, sure, maybe it did make me stronger, maybe I did find out that I am not as neurotic and helpless as I think but I didn't need to find out like this! I don't need to know where my breaking point is. I'm fine with not knowing. So stop testing me, universe!
But a bit of advice to all of you, who might want to travel to New York in Winter: don't. Just don't.
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