This should have been a short and sweet episode.
It’s not.
DAY ONE
One rail replacement bus, one absolutely packed regional train, one ICE train, and one hotel shuttle … and eight hours after leaving Passau this morning we’re back in Frankfurt where we started.
WE WISH IT WERE A MOUSE, TOO!”
It’s always fun to watch the ICE train screens that show our speed in real time.
Once settled into the NH Frankfurt Airport Hotel for our pre-flight overnight, we opted simply to eat dinner in the hotel’s nice restaurant. Honestly, there really wasn’t any walkable option anyway.
DAY TWO
Breakfast in the hotel, and hotel shuttle to the airport, where once we’d dropped our bags we had about 2-1/2 hours until boarding.
Given our 3 hour nightmarish experience at incoming border control, my heart dropped when I saw the two incredibly long lines for outgoing non-EU passport holders, but this time the lines moved steadily through 6 border control agents, and we cleared within 45 minutes.
That left time to grab a quick coffee and one last German pretzel. I’m going to miss those.
I’d booked the same seats for our return flight as we’d had on our way here: an exit row with just two seats, near the WC, and facing the cabin steward’s jump seat. Lots of legroom, which is always my priority, although noisy near the emergency exit.
I opted to start our last flight with a glass of Sekt (the German version of Prosecco, although in this case they were pouring Henkell Trocken) and toasted with son#1 to the end of our adventure.
Our early dinner was to be a choice of beef goulash with spätzle, or cheese spätzle with crispy onions, both accompanied by plum streusel cake for dessert, but about two hours into the flight and before food service could begin there was an announcement that our flight was being diverted to Manchester due to a burning smell noticed in the cockpit.
“Landing in 8 minutes.”
Ted and I were here in June. I certainly did not expect to be back so soon.
By the time we had landed the Captain was able to announce that the smell from the electrical panel had dissipated, but the fire brigade needed to check out the plane. There’s no heading across the Atlantic without being sure all’s okay.
The exterior and landing gear check was clear, so the next step was for members of the brigade to board the plane and check out the interior area where the smell was noticed.
Managing passengers in these kinds of situations is what the cabin stewards are trained for, and we felt very grateful for their calm demeanour throughout.
In the realm of things we don’t think about, people were allowed to use the toilets while we sat on the runway (and suddenly everyone needed to), but with the engines off there were no lights. Folks needed their cellphone flashlights, highlighting an unexpected bonus to technology. Unfortunately, the flushing mechanism was also not working, and cellphones could not remedy that.
And then the announcement we were dreading came.
This plane was going nowhere, so after an hour or so on the tarmac we were finally deplaned and got to experience the fun of working with airline staff to find a way to get us home. I can afford to be patient; son #1 is supposed to be back at work in two days.
Stairways were brought up to the plane and waiting buses took us into Manchester Airport, where all the passengers from our diverted flight – several hundred of us – were channeled into a line for those unexpectedly entering the UK. I have my UKETA from our trip earlier this year, but most people on our flight would not have expected to be in the UK.
Next, baggage claim, where we were directed to pick up hotel vouchers in the form of a QR code to connect us to a service that would find us accommodation, transportation, presumably food vouchers, and replacement flight options. None of us were getting on a plane until at least the next day.
Meanwhile in Vancouver … Ted was trying to reschedule my Toronto/Vancouver flight for a later date, cancel my bone density scan which has a hefty no-show fee, and generally do all the things I couldn’t easily do on my phone in Manchester while exhausted.
Our assigned hotel was nothing I would ever choose. I might have said it was a “dump” except that it had clean sheets and towels and the beds weren’t lumpy.
Maybe “dingy” described it best. The neighbourhood itself was safe if not exactly a tourist mecca. At first we thought we were booked here because we were flying economy, but one of the families staying here had been in business class, and they ended up in a room there as well – at least ours didn’t reek of smoke. Check out Google’s recent reviews for Trivelles Mayfair if you dare (sort by most recent).
Our voucher said half board (two meals), but the hotel had no kitchen and could offer no food of any kind. We were beyond cranky when we realized that the two local pubs’ kitchens were already closed, and one of the two takeout shops about a kilometre away took cash only (of course we had no British pounds). Fortunately, the other took credit cards and had several fast food choices. Late mate dinner was fried chicken and chips in a box, but decent.
Exactly two towels. No hairdryer. No wastebasket. A rough textured black bathroom floor that felt like asbestos shingle (and given the building’s age could have been) and on which I immediately tore my socks.
We spent a long time after returning from our “gourmet” dinner trying to find out our new flight schedule, which was an exercise in frustration. Lufthansa’s telephone customer support tried to convince us that we would have to go to the airport in the morning in order to choose a flight; hardly reasonable for 400+ people. In the end, at Ted’s suggestion, I cheated and called the dedicated business class number that we’d used on our round-the-world trip. Instead of sending me elsewhere, the agent there confirmed that a flight had in fact been assigned to us, explained how to find it on the website even though the app had not yet been updated, and was both gracious and patient.
That resolved, we crashed. Thank goodness for clean sheets.
DAY THREE
Checkout time was 11:00. With no lobby to sit in, and not wanting to stand on the curb for an hour – now in wind and rain as a bonus – with our suitcases, we asked about late checkout. Nothing had been prearranged apparently, so we just stayed in our room hoping the cleaning staff didn’t have us first on their list.
There was no breakfast available nearby, but I found an only slightly squashed Snickers bar in my purse that son #1 and I shared, and I had a cup of tea. Luckily #1 still had a can of room temperature Pepsi Max left over from our dinner the night before.
Somehow there were two transfers to the airport arranged for us: a Bolt at noon and a bus at 12:30.
We took the Bolt that arrived at noon, lined up for new boarding passes in Terminal 2, and then lined up again for boarding pass checks in the line dedicated to Fast Pass, Business Class – and our Toronto flight – Manchester airport having been well prepared for us. One more line through security, and then we used our own lounge passes to access the smaller and quieter of two Aspire Lounges.
The lounge attendant was impressed that we’d come off yesterday’s Lufthansa flight. Apparently she’d had a prime view of our emergency landing! To add to the “thrill”, Manchester does not normally get jumbo jets at all. This was the only one they’d seen in years – maybe ever.
Finally, decent coffees, and to be honest a nice large G&T too, plus some yummy chicken tikka and Victoria sponge.
I’d already applied for flight compensation from Lufthansa under EU Regulation 261/2004, since our flight started in the European Union. I also received a quick answer: no, because our replacement flight would get us home only 3 hours late. Someone clearly couldn’t read calendar dates – we’re going to be 27 hours late. Let’s see what happens now that I have pointed that out.
At 15:20, with no gate posted yet, there were multiple urgent sounding announcements for all passengers on our flight to head to gate C14. I forced poor #1 to head off at almost a run. I had no more calmness left in my repertoire, and #1 had developed a migraine, for which we had just been to Boots for ibuprofen/paracetamol combination capsules.
At 16:30 they started boarding our flight – different plane, different crew. Our former plane will be out of commission for at least a week, with Lufthansa techs already onsite in Manchester.
The flight began with many apologies from our Captain, whose fault none of this was, and a promise that it would all be in his report in order that Lufthansa can do better next time.
We were scheduled to fly at 17:15.
At 17:40 we pulled away from the gate, noticing that ground crew and locals were snapping photos of our jumbo jet as we taxied past. At 17:58 we were finally wheels up.
Another Sekt, and the same Lufthansa menu out of Manchester’s catering, but this time we got to eat the beef goulash and plum cake. They were really good.
We finally got back to Toronto about 27 hours later than expected. I’ve never been so glad to arrive at Pearson International!
It may have been prescient that our bags were due to arrive on carousel 13. One hour after landing, bags were still not coming off the belt. The cheery announcement continued to say “bags are arriving”, which prompted #1 to channel his inner Inigo Montoya: “You keep using that word. I do not think it means what you think it means.”
Somehow that was just the perfect ending to our trip.
I know that #1 was especially excited to be welcomed back home. They were very much missed while they were gone. Their family graciously invited me to have dinner and stay overnight with them rather than book another hotel night, and Ted found me a flight that would get me home just one day later than planned. Not difficult, just expensive, and missed onward flights that are not “connecting” flights are not reimbursable.
DAY FOUR
I got my final hugs when I left #1’s house for the airport.
We were both still tired, but agreed that despite its awful bookends it was a worthwhile and otherwise fun trip. I thoroughly enjoyed the chance for some mother/son bonding time, which is especially precious since we live on opposite sides of the country and only see each other in person about once a year.
Danforth Avenue was still quiet as I headed for the commuter train to the airport, meaning that I had the bonus of being able to enjoy the lush floral arrangements made possible by the extended summer weather in Toronto.
Transferring through Union Station I was amused by Balzac Coffees’s list of drinks, with their nod to current politics.
Check-in and bag drop went smoothly, as did the flight. Things were finally looking up!
I decided to treat myself to the airport lounge, and enjoyed a lovely conversation with a fellow Vancouverite, plus breakfast frittata, fruit, and coffee.
Although the 13:15 flight from Toronto to Vancouver was around 5 hours long, time flew (pun intended) because I had a really interesting female fashion industry entrepreneur as a seat mate. There was a fair bit of turbulence, but most of it mild.
Time zone changes meant it was only 15:30 when I landed.
A quick baggage pickup and I was on the Skytrain headed back to Ted. The man gives amazing hugs, and I was definitely ready for one.
In just one week I’ll be back in the air, flying Lufthansa again, this time to Venice with my daughter-in-law to take part in an Italian Cooking Tour with Intrepid Travel. Our connection, as luck would have it, is through Frankfurt. I’ve had to assure her that I’ve used up enough travel bad luck for a few years.
In the interim, there’s a a theatre production to attend, hopefully a couple of our grandsons’ basketball games to cheer at, and maybe even an early Thanksgiving dinner to celebrate.
My life is full.
Sometimes what it’s full of is unexpected, and frustrating, but it’s all part of the experience, and I’m grateful to be able to have it.
Someday I’ll be laughing about that hotel room….
