Wednesday, March 30, 2011
Getting there and back was not so good.
I turned up for my flight on Thursday evening at Auckland airport to be greeted with the words. "Is that the passport you'll be travelling on?" Shiiiiiiit. I had handed over my son's passport. Mine was tucked safely in the draw at home, forty minutes drive away.
I am what I would call an experienced traveller. I travel often, probably too often. In my work days I used to do it with a couple of dozen bits of camera gear. Now as a mother I travel with two hindrances (boys) and more cases than I can carry. I am also, at times, an idiot.
I spent the next hour perched on my suitcase hoping for sympathy while waiting for my (heroic) husband to zoom home and back. He did it in record time but I was booked on a cheap flight with the Australian budget carrier Jetstar. The girl was nice but not nice enough to let me check in 7 minutes after their check in had closed. Budget airlines you see are rigid about check in times. It's just that usually they're late. This flight was on time.
Tears. Husband to the rescue. I bought another flight and got to Sydney only an hour late and $300 poorer. Thank you Dear Husband.
So after a lovely weekend on Sunday night I dropped off my car at the airport and turned up to the Jetstar check-in early to head back to Auckland with the right passport. Drum roll.... FLIGHT CANCELLED.
Oh the irony. The budget airline that would not let me on a plane seven minutes late on Thursday was now telling me they would fly me home a whole 26 hours late.
Aaaaah. I rang Husband who sounded like another 26 hours as a single father might kill him. I raced through the airport to find the free internet, kicked a nine year old off it (nicely) and then raced to buy another new ticket with another airline. I got one of the last ones. I felt like a finalist in the Amazing Race. I didn't feel so much like a winner.
Four international air tickets later, did I enjoy my weekend? Well, hell yes. But I won't be going again for a while.