Yes, I am back. Almost 28 hours later than expected, but I am back to Urbana. The trip started with a very tiny little delay of 8 hours in Barcelona. Yes, COA121 was the flight to Newark. Yes, COA121 was the first leg toward Urbana. Yes, the plane had technical problems on the way to Barcelona and had to land at the Azores islands to get it “fixed”. Yes, we did not dare to ask. Yes, we were tired of waiting for a plane that seemed never to come; but you should have seen the faces of the passengers deplaning at Barcelona, exhausted is not a word descriptive enough. Yes, we all filled a complaint form asking for money back according to the European Union bill of right for air passengers. Yes, we know that it was a bit of wishful thinking and the lack of anything better to do while waiting.
I was surprise how civilized was everybody. Nobody shouted. Everybody was polite and ordered. It was also surprising how little the company told the ground personal. The poor guys did an outstanding job to keep everybody relaxed and informed, given the circumstances. Having almost zero information—yes even with almost zero information there were two competing versions of what was going on—they manage to finally do the job. The poor guys also had a never-ending day. I bet they spend more than 14h there. But of course, if you get delayed 8 hours you arrive to Newark at 10pm and, hence, you leave the airport at 11pm. Yes, you leave the airport because there are no more flights that late at night. So they give you an hotel and meal voucher, and they book you for the next flight to O’Hare. I was “lucky” that the next available flight was at 1:50pm. Some folks had only 3 hours sleep at the hotel before leaving back to the airport to catch 5am flights. And a new day starts. And you get to the airport refreshed and optimistic. And you board the plane on time. And you are happy that you will be able to finally leave on time. And it is summer. And O’Hare has slowed down because of the weather—some storm going one. And you sit for another hour on a plane waiting for the O’Hare to bless your departure. And you got there late; luckily you call the day before the rental car company. And you do not see your luggage. And when you walk toward Continental’s lost luggage office to complain, you find your luggage between the lost luggage of the earlier flight you could not get in. And you go to the rental. And finally you find yourself in a traffic jam driving back to Urbana, one day later than planned, a bit exhausted, and having missed some things at work, but having meet a lot of new people you would never have talked to.