[tl;dr long post about air travel drama]

My excited plane selfie turned out to be misplaced optimism. We sat on the runway in Fort Wayne for some time before the United pilot announced there was a mechanical issue and we would be heading back to the gate. Except—more omens and portents—the ground staff had already clocked off for the day so we had to wait for half an hour to be able to deplane. This is when I knew that I had a big problem. I had about 9hrs to get to LA before my Qantas flight to Sydney at 11:10pm. Seems doable, right? But here’s the catch – I was travelling on separate tickets. Because of the flurry to get there in time for the funeral, I’d booked the Qantas flight to LA separately from the two domestic United flights back to Indiana. This was a mistake. If United didn’t get me there in time, I’d miss my Qantas flight… and I’d already just paid an extra $1600 for a business class upgrade. 😩

So then it was just endless queues and waiting and uncertainty and slow computers and clueless staff. United’s system rebooked me going from Fort Wayne -> Chicago -> San Francisco -> LA, arriving well after midnight and completely missing the Qantas connection. Luckily when we deplaned I managed to get 2nd in the desk queue, and I explained my predicament to the gate agent. I probably spent 25 minutes with her as she sat on hold (with her own company! while standing in front of a computer terminal! and she was the supervisor!!) trying to rebook me onto an earlier 5:55pm direct flight from Chicago -> LAX. She was successful in the end, but it was still completely dependent on our plane in Fort Wayne getting fixed and getting us to Chicago in time. (All other flights to Chicago were already full, so it was either that plane or nothing.) The estimated departure time kept slipping more and more. Now I was getting really nervous. I decided to call Qantas to find out what my options were for moving the international flight.

Sadly, Qantas were not helpful. The lady I was on with put me on hold for a long time, and ultimately she told me that I could change the flight, but I’d forfeit the $1600 upgrade fee. What?! I went back and forth with her for 40min trying to find a solution, before I ran out of minutes on my e-sim and the call cut off. Not good. I still had Internet, but no phone… and there was now a long queue of angry customers at the desk. I could buy more minutes, but I was worried that the plane would start boarding while I was still on hold with an agent. I needed help, which meant messaging my Mom to call Rodd back in Australia to wake him up. He immediately set to work getting me on the next best flight out of Chicago, which would get me to LA a mere 75min before the Sydney flight. He managed to get me on it—I think I got the very last seat!—but I would have to deplane, collect my suitcase, and drop it with Qantas… and they close bag-drop 60min before the flight. It seemed very unlikely that I’d make it. Rodd was even investigating “VIP meet-and-greet options,” where they meet you on the tarmac with a car to whisk you through a private entrance. (That was like $1000 though – yeah, no.) Our other option was getting my sister or someone at the airport to pick up the suitcase and ship it on to me in Australia. That’s assuming, of course, that my suitcase even made it to LA given that I now had a tight connection in Chicago. I had to fight my way back to the desk to get the agent to retag my suitcase—for the 3rd time—to be on the new LA flight. And then, miracle of miracles, we actually got on the plane and flew to Chicago. It was first time in my life I’ve ever applauded when a plane took off.

When we landed in Chicago, I found out that my flight to LA had been delayed 15 minutes, thus erasing my tiny buffer and whatever slim chance I had of making the Qantas flight. We would have to move it, and I was going to lose my lovely business class seat. Rodd worked on that while I raced through O’Hare to my gate, all the while checking the app to see if my luggage actually made it onto the next plane. As I was standing in the queue to board, he messaged me that Qantas were moving me to the next day, they would refund my upgrade fee, and the whole mess was only going to cost me like $250. The app then updated to let me know my luggage had made it onto the plane to LA, and my sister confirmed that she would pick me up when I landed. I honestly teared up a little bit.

Six hours later I was in bed at my sister’s house, safe and sound with everything sorted out. I realise this was all such a first world problem. I was never in physical danger; it was just stress and hassle and uncertainty. I’ll get home a day later than intended, but I also get an extra day to spend with my nieces. The whole misadventure didn’t cost me much in the end, though I am still slightly bitter about missing out on my business class seat. (I’m not going to bother to upgrade again. That feels like tempting fate.) I am incredibly grateful to Rodd for keeping a cool head and working the phones while I was spinning out. I’m grateful to my Mom for providing emotional support throughout the day, and to my sister and her family for welcoming me back on short notice.

But man, I will be so glad to get home… ❤️

An older lady asked me yesterday what my favourite thing about living in Australia is. My strong temptation* was to say “A functional democracy.” 🙃 Mandatory voting; preferential voting; voting on Saturday; voting on paper with pencils; democracy sausages – it’s all wonderful. Last week when I was scrambling to get packed and catch my flight to the funeral, I ducked into an early voting place to cast my vote. I was in and out in < 5 minutes. And today I was delighted to wake up and see the outcome, an utter rejection of Trumpism… THANK YOU, MY FELLOW AUSSIES! ❤️🇦🇺

* I didn’t say that, of course. I’m in Indiana. I just mumbled something about preferring it there.