Day 7 (+1)

Holy Mud it’s early.

My flight is at 6:45am and I was online with British airways and Veuling trying to get my boarding passes. After more than 2 hours I gave up.

I’ll just have to straighten this all out at the airport in the morning.

My priority is to sleep…. And that plan didn’t work all that well. So, to settle my mind I decide to get up and pack my bag for the morning. At least this won’t be circling my brain for a couple of hours as I try to sleep.

That seems to have worked and I get up at 4:15am, brush my teeth and am out of the room by 5:05am to check out and get my prearranged taxi.

Everything goes smoothly but I notice so many, and I mean a lot of young people on the Main Street in front of my hotel. Did I say there were a lot?

According to the man on the desk…,They are young people just finishing their parties and are on their way home.

Are you kidding me? Did I say there were a lot of kids on the street?

This was nuts to see.

Anyway 20 minutes later I am at the airport and my bag is checked through to Toronto, but I have to speak to British Airlines in Barcelona.

One painless flight later all hell break loose. The gate staff at Santiago assured me there will be plenty of time to get my new boarding passes and get on my flight. Just go to the “connections” counter and they will print my boarding passes.

Well, in a word, after standing in line I was informed I would have to exit the terminal and re-enter at the departures level.

So I did. The lineups at British Airways were large but an attendant started saying “anyone on the 10:15 flight come forward…. and I did.

Armed with the new boarding places I had 20 minutes to make it to my gate. Easy yes? Easy no!

First we had to go back through security. These lineups looked overwhelming, but I got through them with 5 minutes to board. If I run I can make it.

It was at this point I realized passport control was next because we were entering a non-EU country. Stupid Brexit.

Now I’m in a full out panic. The gate for my flight closes in 20 minutes and I have stuck in the line for 20 minutes.

I have 5 minutes left to get to my gate. Some Americans ask a lady in an adjacent line (on the other side of a belt and post barrier if the could cut across to catch my flight. She agreed and they unhooked the barrier and were next in line for the passport clearance machine.

I looked at the lady and she nodded me to jump the line too. I could have kissed her.( and possibly have been arrested)

My passport was accepted and now I’m literally running to the gate. I turned the corner to see my gate jammed with people.

What the….

Apparently Heath Row is fogged in but no one was letting people know in the airport until they got to this gate.

I muttered a few choice expletives. Maybe more than a few.

Finally got on the plane, settled into my seat and the Captain announces there is at least a 1 hour delay taking off because traffic is backed up at Heath Row.

So here we sit.

After an hour and a quester delay we push back from the gate in Barcelona and take off for London. You can hear people chattering on the plane wondering if their connecting flights will be delayed as well. Well, maybe. I receive a message from British Airways saying my flight to Toronto is cancelled….and encourage me to accept a flight tomorrow. I am quite concerned that flight will be overfull if I wait so I accept, and wonder what is in store for me in Heath Row when we land.

I can tell you now….absolute pandemonium. I was directed to the Customer Service lineup and wait my turn. Here’s the deal. The lineup is absurdly long. That statement might make it sound like there was a long lineup. I’m not going to drag you through every minute in this line….but it took 3 hours to get to talk to the agent. It took everything I had to put on a friendly face and make sure blood wasn’t pouring out of the corners of my mouth.

It must have worked…I got a room attached to the terminal…king size bed no less, a boarding pass for a flight tomorrow at noon, and my baggage has already been re-router. This means I have no tooth brush, change of clothes.

I’m going for dinner and then to bed.

Tomorrow is another….wait a cottin’ picken moment, it better not be like today.