I thought Marathon was in Greece, or Move over United

Letter 1

Johnny Lee our driver to SFO did his part. He got us to SFO a bit before 12:30, just as planned. Little did we know then that we were to learn not to take such precision for granted.  Our plan was to catch American’s 2PM flight to Chicago, wait two hours, and then fly non-stop (essentially over night) to Istanbul. We would arrive at 5PM Friday. Emphasis on “that was our plan”.

I was not prepared for what greeted us at American’s ticket counter. There was a huge, unruly line. Lots of frowns, clumps of baggage all over the floor and fellow travelers dressed in all sorts of “travel clothing”. (Yes, I do remember when men wore a coat and tie to fly.) After standing in line for 20 minutes, and moving about two and one half feet, we got the news. There was weather in Chicago which would cause a “major delay”. Although no time was given, it was clear our connection was in jeopardy. After 30 more minutes or so (filled with frantic calls to American and our tour sponsor, both of whom said work it out with American at SFO), we met the humorless Mr. James Lovelace. He was to be our ticket agent. Yea, I get it. These guys are paid minimum wage, and he didn’t need this, but what ever happened to the customer is always right? Wasn’t is our vacation which was starting off poorly? Mr. Lovelace (nee, Loveless?) acknowledged us and started trying to see our options. For what seemed like an eternity, he apparently kept typing in routes into the system, waited a minute or two, and then shook his head and started over. (I wasn’t buying this. I wondered how he got Angry Birds on his CRT). Finally, and these were his first words in 10 minutes or so, he said “Air France through Paris might work”. Their 2:30 non-stop to Paris was “slightly delayed”, and would leave at 5PM. We could then connect to Turkish Air and arrive about 5 hours late. This didn’t seem too bad.

And it wasn’t, had it been true.

We cleared security and got to the gate to learn two big things. First our flight was on a new A380, which had 540 passengers. This newest design is essentially a double-decker B747. We came to understand that means everything takes longer. Second, 5PM proved quickly to be fiction. At 5 we were only told “come back at 7PM for an announcement”. As good as we were sure the Air France dinner would be, we rushed to the close restaurant and had “dinner”. Long story short? After lots of vague announcements, we boarded the behemoth at 9:30PM, which happened to be 15 minutes before our crew of 20 was no longer available. (You see they had arrived at the airport assuming an on time departure, nearly 8 hours earlier.) Of course you experienced travelers know boarding and departing at two different words. Wheels left California at 10:30 PM, or about 10 hours after we arrived at SFO. We had gone 26 miles of our trip of over 10,000. I know the first 26 are the hardest, and that is the distance of a marathon, but this was crazy. 

We arrived in Paris around 6PM Friday night, well later than either of the two “possible” flights we had hoped to get to Istanbul. Thus, we started our tour missing at least the first day. Here is where it starts getting in interesting. Air France confirmed we had seats on the 8AM Turkish Air flight to Istanbul Saturday morning. They explained it would take 2 hours to get our bags out of the secure storage area. We punted on that “delay”, not knowing we had just seamed our doom. We were given a temporary personal kit: a tee shirt, toothbrush and paste, deodorant, etc. We were also given a voucher for the All Seasons, (not Four Seasons), just off the airport. It was hard to find the coach which took us, but we were pleased with the small but efficient hotel. Good dinner. Hopes were high.

Saturday morning started early, and we were on the 5:45 AM shuttle back to Charles de Gaulle. Unfortunately, Turkish Air explained our reservations had been cancelled. We found an Air France angel who interceded on our behalf. Boarding passes were received, and we rushed through customs.

In Istanbul at noon. Success. Not so fast. The bag conveyor belt stopped without our 4 bags. Turkish Air explained our bags liked France so much they decided to stay. (Our ticket cancellation was the probable culprit). There were a couple flights which would arrive later Saturday and would be “rushed” to the Grand Hyatt. (If you bought that, then I have a bridge to sell you.)

OK, so our guide meets us, and we have a nice lunch on the Bosporus, before our cruise on that incredible 25 mile stretch of water which separates the Asian and European sides of Istanbul, and links the Sea of Marmara and the Black Sea.

Late Saturday night we checked with Hyatt. No bags delivered. Sunday started with us in the clothes we put on back Thursday morning. A day of touring made us all the more fascinated with Turkey but more uncomfortable. A busy day of touring was brightened by the news our bags had been delivered to the hotel.

Not so fast. In fact, three of our bags had been delivered. Unfortunately, poor Carol’s was the odd one out. If only it could have been mine! LSS (long story short), our guide and I finally took possession of the missing bag around 9:30 PM Sunday night. I didn’t have the nerve to explain to Carol if she waited just 12 more hours, she could say she lived in one outfit for 4 straight days.

What caused the Air France delay which caused this horrible start to our adventure? Despite being told at various times it was a) a late arrival of the plane, b) congestion in one airport or another, and c) weather, I like the answer given in the on board greetings. While landing, the plane “ingested” a seagull in engine 4. It is true the mechanics appeared to be working on one of the huge engines during the delay. But who knows? Maybe they were playing Angry Birds also.