The QotD is back after a brief hiatus while we worked to get the kinks out of the commenting system. (We think we’ve solved most of them, but if you’re still having trouble with it, drop me an e-mail and I’ll pass it along to the folks at JS-Kit.) Anyway, in light of yesterday’s interrupted journey of the US Airways flight — and shamelessly stealing from Melissa at Shakesville…
What’s your worst travel experience?
Mine was my trip to Europe in December 1985. AJP and I were going to visit a friend in Florence, Italy, via Luxembourg and Paris. The flight from Denver to Chicago was delayed because of weather and waiting for connecting flights to the point that we missed our Iceland Air flight and got put on a TWA flight to London with a connection to Luxembourg. We arrived the next morning in London’s Heathrow surrounded by SWAT teams: this was the morning after the terrorist attacks in Rome and Vienna. We had the whole day to spend in London, so we took a jet-lagged-sodden Red Bus tour of London, then arrived in Luxembourg only to find that AJP’s suitcase and two boxes of books for our friend were missing. Long story short… his suitcase showed up three days later just as we were leaving Paris via the TGV, and the books showed up two weeks later at the airport in Luxembourg as we were getting ready for our eight-hour flight back to Chicago. I had to do a mad dash to the Luxembourg train station with the books to put them on the train to Florence. I made it back to the airport with about ten minutes to spare. Other than that, though, we had a great time staying in an 18th century villa in the Tuscan village of Castelfranco di Sopra and seeing the sights of Florence.
The most interesting experience was being stuck for three extra days at an all-inclusive resort on Antigua while the American Airlines flight attendants were on strike in 1993. We’d already spent a week on the lush island of Montserrat (before the volcano blew), and the whole unplanned extra stay was paid for by the airline.