![\"road-warrior2\"](\"https:\/\/bloodinyoursaltwater.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2016\/03\/road-warrior2.jpg\")
Okay\u2026let\u2019s try and start this at the beginning\u2026<\/p>\nOkay\u2026let\u2019s try and start this at the beginning\u2026<\/p>\n
Debark day is always strange, but it seems even stranger when you\u2019re leaving mid-contract.<\/p>\n
But wherever you\u2019re leaving from, it\u2019s always supposed to be simple. Exhausting, but simple.The flights are booked and paid for after all, all you have to do is show up at the airport and board.<\/p>\n
Always simple\u2026in theory.<\/p>\n
I was supposed board the plane in Mexico and fly two back to back long hauls that would put me in Mumbai in the dark hours of the morning. That\u2019s what I was prepared for when I lugged all my luggage out of the room, hugged Amras goodbye, and headed down the gangway.<\/p>\n
That, however, is not what occurred.<\/p>\n
Halfway through the flight I checked into the onboard wi-fi to write my parents and let the mknow that I was safely on my way; and instead found an email from the crew office of the ship I was soon supposed to be boarding; asking whether or not I was in possession of a visa for admission to India. As no one had informed me that I needed such a visa and I hadn\u2019t required one before when I had come in by sea, the \u2013 as it would turn out very unfortunate \u2013 answer to the question was \u201cno, I\u2019m afraid not\u2026am I supposed to?\u201d<\/p>\n
Ooooh boy\u2026<\/p>\n
This led to a flurry of increasingly panicked (While trying not to be panicked) emails fro the duration of the flight between myself, the crew office and the India port agent, which \u2013 while I was sitting anxiously in the gate area of the flight that was supposed to take me from Dubai to Mumbai, came to a not so great conclusion:<\/p>\n
I couldn\u2019t get on that plane.<\/p>\n
At this point, the flight to Dubai had been 14 hours\u2026and I had spent it for the most part watching movies save for about an hour when I fell asleep during Brave<\/em>.<\/p>\n At any rate, without that visa, I would not be able to enter India, and the visa could not be obtained despite everyone\u2019s efforts to find some kind of work around.<\/p>\n Ultimately they decided that they would reroute me from Dubai to Doha to Sallalah (in Oman), and put me up in a hotel there for two nights and I could pick up the ship on the 17th.<\/p>\n Okay…well, all I can do is go where they tell me…<\/p>\n This then led to the beginning of what may be the most chaotic, stressful, travel experience I\u2019ve ever had the misfortune to encounter. At this point, I had to make sure that my bags got transferred from the flight they were originally supposed to be on and onto the new set of flights. It took all of my three hour layover to even locate where I was supposed to be to get that accomplished\u2026<\/p>\n I would love to say that I was rock star brave in the face of being lost, disoriented and exhausted in a strange airport and a totally unfamiliar culture, but I wasn\u2019t. I don\u2019t think I\u2019ve ever quite broken broken down that much in front of strangers because of sheer confusion\u2026<\/p>\n All i needed to know was how to transfer my bags from the old flight to the new one, but because I was in a situation that I guess most people don\u2019t usually find themselves in, no one understood what I was trying to say so I kept getting sent in all different directions. Plus the Dubai airport has practically nothing in the way of power outlets, so because I needed to maintain near constant contact with Head Office, all my means of communication were swiftly going flat. Not good, not good at all.<\/p>\n I finally arrived at where I was supposed to be, only to hear the words that no one wants to hear in such a situation:<\/p>\n Ma\u2019am your flight is already closed.<\/em><\/p>\n Waterworks. And telling me to remain calm in that situation does not help matters. They wanted to make me pay for my luggage again as well, but they retracted that idea very quickly, perhaps I looked scary, or perhaps it was just the prospect of seeing someone completely collapse in front of them that made them change their minds.<\/p>\n They managed to get my bags rechecked \u2013 at least, they said they did \u2013 but then informed me of something else<\/em> that had fallen through the cracks<\/p>\n I can\u2019t put you on this plane if you don\u2019t have a valid method of exit from Sallalah<\/em><\/p>\n But\u2026I\u2019m going to a ship, and all of my paperwork says I\u2019m boarding that ship in Mumbai, I already explained this<\/em><\/p>\n Then you\u2019ll have to get new papers before you reach Salallah ma\u2019am, or I\u2019m telling you they won\u2019t let you in<\/em><\/p>\n Which meant that for the first time ever I had to go against my instinct and pick up one of those terrible credit-card operated plane-to-ground phones that coast upwards of $6US a minute so that I could call the emergency contact line and let them know that I had been rerouted again and that I needed a new copy of my letters of assignment as soon as possible or I was going to be stuck again.<\/p>\n I also called my parents to let them know I was alive.<\/p>\n I would have given anything to call Amras too, but he was still on the ship so there\u2019s no incoming number until I get to a company operated satellite phone.<\/p>\n At this point, I was hoping that my bags had in fact come with me, but having no way of knowing until I got to what I had thought was going to be the last leg.<\/p>\n I was so very tired by this point, and hating the fact that it was an empty seat next to me instead of the person I needed to be sitting in it.<\/p>\n I did not actually end up in Sallalah. Although I did spend an exhausting ten or twelve hours in Doha, which his where I was supposed to be laying over before<\/em><\/strong> landing in Sallalah. When I landed in Doha and went through security (again), I made my way to yet another airport gate; by this point they were really all starting to look alike, propped myself up against the wall and plugged into the only outlet available (for which I had to purchase an adapter, don\u2019t ask how much that cost me at airport prices), and checked my email.<\/p>\n Note: at this point I had not slept in approximately 30 or so hours\u2026little did I realize that at that point things were about to get even crazier. This time the chain of emails went like this:<\/p>\n Port Agent: please note, her nationality cannot be granted access without proper clearance<\/em><\/p>\n Office: can clearance be obtained?<\/em><\/p>\n Agent: no<\/em><\/p>\n Emergency Line,<\/em> Nienna: Shaughnessy is already in the air. We\u2019ll have to wait until she checks in to tell her we\u2019re sending her home<\/em><\/p>\n ME: HOME? What do you mean I\u2019m going HOME?<\/em><\/p>\n So I call Nienna, and she tells me that yes, unfortunately I would have to go home, as there was no other place to send me. At this point I am so exhausted that I can only barely understand what she was saying; all I knew was that I had been flown halfway around the world, run madly through at least three airports, hadn\u2019t slept and had barely eaten. Once again, I was not feeling a lot like a rock star traveler, just a scared, exhausted girl who wanted to go home.<\/p>\n So I kept talking to Nienna whose ever-thankless job is to clean up these kinds of messes, and she tells me that it\u2019s okay she can put me on a flight home tomorrow night and to hang tight while she finds the details.<\/p>\n I use the intervening time to try and update my family, but while I\u2019m in the midst of doing that the next batch of emails comes in, and they aren\u2019t good.<\/p>\n Apparently there are no hotels available in the entire Qatar peninsula; and they can\u2019t put me in a hotel in a neighbouring country because again \u2013 no paperwork.<\/p>\n If I want that flight home, I had to stay at the airport for a full 24 hours.<\/p>\n Okay, so it wasn\u2019t the best circumstance at all, but I hadn\u2019t cracked yet. It took something else that was going to make me crack.<\/p>\n After all, if I was going to be stuck somewhere I needed my luggage, so I trot over to the gate desk for what would have been my flight to Sallalah and ask them to make sure that my luggage gets unloaded from the plane so that it at least stays where I am. The gate attendant reassures me that it won\u2019t be loaded in the first place since I won\u2019t be on the plane, and to just pop back in about twenty minutes and he can let me know where I can go to pick it up. Easy.<\/p>\n Except when I go back the attendant punches a few numbers in. Frowns. Picks up the phone and says something in Arabic that I (obviously) do not understand, and I start to get a terrible sinking feeling in my stomach hat feel an awful lot like panic.<\/p>\n I\u2019m sorry miss, at the moment your luggage can\u2019t be located<\/em><\/p>\n !*! CRACK *!*!<\/p>\n No no no, not this too<\/em><\/p>\n It\u2019s here miss, it\u2019s just unlocated<\/em><\/p>\n Tehre\u2019s a difference between unlocated and lost?<\/em><\/p>\n Yes<\/em><\/p>\n But his tone says \u201cpossibly, probably…hopefully\u201d<\/p>\n Just wait over there ma\u2019am, I\u2019ll come update you in a minute<\/em><\/p>\n I wipe my eyes, find a corner and call \u2013 not Nienna, not Amras (still couldn\u2019t reach him anyway), but my Mum\u2026who else?<\/p>\n At this point I don\u2019t truly remember a lot except that I know I cried. A lot. Before the tears kind of dried to hiccups.<\/p>\n But\u2026but mum, my life is in those bags, the clothes can be replaced but everything else\u2026everything else.<\/em><\/p>\n Shh\u2026they\u2019ll find it, they will honey, they\u2019ll find it<\/em><\/p>\n So I trudged all over the Doha following a Qatar airlines representative as he tried to track down my two missing bags. Eventually he told me that they\u2019d almost been located and that I could go through immigration and pick them up in about a half hour on the other side.<\/p>\n Which I did..<\/p>\n Eventually<\/p>\n You see, my luggage was not in that airport.<\/p>\n As it turned out, that luggage had never actually left Dubai in the first place.<\/p>\n Though it took them a while, and several reports, to ascertain that. And I spent the next four or so hours in that baggage service area, watching people come and go and essentially being part of the furniture. Waiting patiently for my luggage to arrive. It was supposed to come in at 5am, I finally got it at 7am.<\/p>\n This gave me an interesting view of human nature. Eventually I swear the staff kind of forgot I was there, which meant I overheard all kinds of interesting inter-office drama (apparently one counter-attendant did not think much of the other\u2019s management style) and also got to see just how impatient people can be. I saw one person completely freak out because basically the staff couldn\u2019t break their rules for him. After he stormed of f I went up and gave them chocolate. I\u2019m pretty sure they didn\u2019t actually want it or eat it, but I wanted to be nice, or at least seen to be nice since I\u2019d been pretty worked up when I got there myself. Honey is trappier than acorns, and besides I thought the counter clerks were nice, they even checked to try and find a hotel for me when they found out that I had no where to stay.<\/p>\n They were, sadly, unsuccessful, just as Nienna, Flora and the others at the emergency office had been. So once I got my bags, I had no real choice but to proceed on through arrivals. At this point I\u2019ll admit that 48 hours plus (and yes, it had been that long at this stage), hours awake was starting to catch up with me. I stopped at the check in desk for Emirates air and politely explained my situation: that I couldn\u2019t leave the airport, and my flight wasn\u2019t until 11:30pm and was there somewhere I could leave my luggage for the duration?<\/p>\n Nope, no early check-in<\/p>\n Any luggage lockers?<\/p>\n Nope.<\/p>\n Asked at the information desk, no chance there either. And I also found this particular airport, outside of the baggage service desk, didn\u2019t have much in the way of any sympathy<\/p>\n So, with not much in the way of options, I tried to find a comfortable way to settle down, but luggage and purposely uncomfortable chairs don\u2019t make the best bed. Plus, airports are not the best thing to try and sleep in anyway.<\/p>\n I ended up sending an unashamedly desperate email to Nienna\u2019s colleague Tin\u00faviel, who had been helping me since Nienna went off shift a few hours earlier \u2013 saying in essence that I really wasn\u2019t sure that I could do this after all. She responded \u2013 obviously feeling terrible \u2013 that I was going to have to, as there was still no other option that they\u2019d been able to find.<\/p>\n You can keep talking to me if it helps<\/em><\/p>\n I\u2019m just so tired<\/em><\/p>\n I know, I\u2019ve thrown myself on the port agent again, maybe he can find you something. You can check the airport hotel again, see if they have a cancellation.<\/em><\/p>\n So I tromped up and down the airpot trying to find this hotel, but there\u2019s nothing. As it turns out this particularly ridiculous airport had its hotel before<\/em> the arrivals terminal, and once you come out you can\u2019t get back to it.<\/p>\n How silly is that?<\/p>\n It was then that something else hit me. I was in the Middle East. Talk about being in a foreign culture. I was a lonely, scared, Caucasian woman<\/em>, a western<\/em> woman, essentially stranded in a middle eastern airport. Even though I was conservatively dressed, it didn\u2019t help me not to stand out, and you get more scared and paranoid when you\u2019ve sleep deprived. I had come to that point where I was so tired I was cold. And I was suddenly aware that the reason I was not comfortable was because I didn\u2019t feel safe. Though that wasn\u2019t something I was willing to truly look at until after the fact.<\/p>\n I think I only managed to stay somewhat put together because of my parents, Amras, and Silver, who were writing me almost more than Tin\u00faviel and her colleagues were, and amongst them all it was hard to tell who was more worried for me.<\/p>\n Finally Tin\u00faviel got totally fed off on my behalf<\/p>\n This is ridiculous, look why don\u2019t I put you on the below, it\u2019s longer but you\u2019ll be home tomorrow still. <\/em><\/p>\n I looked at the flight details and yet again picked up the phone. Once we figured out luggage fees and such, she mentioned Heathrow. Wait\u2026Heathrow?<\/p>\n Wait, am I going to London Ontario, or London UK?<\/em><\/p>\n London UK, you\u2019ll stay at the hotel there and long haul back to Canada the next afternoon.<\/em><\/p>\n Am I allowed to tell you I love you Tin\u00faviel<\/em>?<\/p>\n You are. I kind of love you too right now. You\u2019re just about my kid\u2019s age so..<\/em><\/p>\n You\u2019ve adopted me for the day?<\/em><\/p>\n Kind of. We all just feel so awful for you. Poor girl, none of this is your fault.<\/em><\/p>\n I know.<\/em><\/p>\n Okay sweetie. Good luck.<\/em><\/p>\n For the first time in ages, it was off to London for me. It was only a 6 hour flight, of which I remember little because I slept 4 hours of it. 4 hours in what was at that point nearly 70 hours including all the time changes. Anyway, since I did sleep somewhat on the plane, I was able to be relatively cognisant when I landed in Heathrow.<\/p>\n It had been nearly 9 years since I last set food on British soil, but I felt my heart lighten somewhat walking down the terminal hallway. Of all the places they could have sent me , they sent me here. To London, to my \u2018snowglobe\u2019, where even though I\u2019ve not set foot there for so long, everything seemed familiar. Where I not only didn\u2019t stand out, I could almost feel at home. Even the accent was comforting.<\/p>\n All that kept going through my head was a line from Bedknobs and Broomsticks<\/em> \u201cis this London?\u201d \u201c\u2019Course it is, can\u2019t you smell that lovely sooty \u2018ir?\u201d<\/p>\n 8 years later even standing in an airport immigration line up, London still feels the same. And, even in my slightly delirious, sleep deprived state, it felt good to be back with her.<\/p>\n It felt like it took forever for me to get to the hotel, but eventually I did make my way there, only to find<\/p>\n I\u2019m sorry Miss Brookes, we don\u2019t have a reservation for you<\/em><\/p>\n No, no no, this can\u2019t be happening. It can\u2019t.<\/em><\/p>\n Miss please, please, is there anything we can do to help?<\/em><\/p>\n And the whole story came out, and you\u2019ve never seen desk clerks so sympathetic. The manager dealt with me personally, making all the phone calls \u2013 including the long distance ones \u2013 brought me water and kleenix, hooked up my phone when it died, they did everything they could do \u2013 but to no avail, no reservation.<\/p>\n Flora was livid<\/em> when I called her with the news<\/p>\n Shaughnessy sweetie, you\u2019re not home YET?<\/em><\/p>\n No, and they can\u2019t\u2026they can\u2019t find my reservation at the Hilton<\/em><\/p>\n Hang on Shaughnessy, I\u2019ll fix this for you, I promise.<\/em><\/p>\n And she did. As it turns out someone at the reservation company had made a typo in the email they sent me and put the right hotel name but the wrong terminal number. There are two hotels by the same name at airport.<\/p>\n It was a painfully long hike to terminal 5 where the proper hotel was located, but at least when I got there they checked me straight into a room, where I promptly ordered room service, emailed my respective loved ones to let them know that I was in fact alive and mostly well, and then eased myself into the most well-earned hot bath ever.<\/p>\n Or at least prepared to, because at that moment the phone rang. I have no idea how Amras smooth talked his way through the concierge, as I hadn\u2019t told him my room number, but I have never been so grateful to hear his voice.<\/p>\n After that the night is a bit of a blank because I slept for twelve hours.<\/p>\n In the morning when I was jarred awake by the alarm I made my way back to the terminal in what I thought was plenty of time. Only to find myself dismayed when I looked up at the departure board and found that my airline wasn\u2019t listed.<\/p>\n This was not good.<\/p>\n I asked for clarification at the nearest information desk, to find that yes I was at the wrong terminal \u2013 not only that I had been at the right terinal and moved on to the wrong one because no-one had told me otherwise, and therefore figured that naturally the flight left from the same terminal I had arrived in, as is usually the case. Unfortunately I forgot how massive Heathrow is.<\/p>\n So not only was I in the wrong place, but because of the rather ridiculous scheduling of the \u201cexpress\u201d train that connects the terminals \u2013 which stupidly runs only every 15 minutes \u2013 there was no way I could get<\/em> to the right place in time. So another overseas phone call another, reroute, and I end up \u2013 finally \u2013 on a through flight to Vancouver, at least on that flight I was gifted with great seat-mates. However, a note to the seriously selfish family across the aisle from me:<\/p>\n If you book an aisle seat and elect not<\/em> to use it for whatever reason, for example if the middle seat of your row is empty and you want to use that instead, then you FORFIET use of that aisle seat. YOU DO NOT GET TO USE BOTH SEATS WHEN YOU PAID FOR ONE! You paid for one seat, period end of story. It\u2019s a full flight kid, we would all<\/em> like \u201can extra seat to sleep\u201d but you didn\u2019t pay for it so essentially you\u2019re stealing it. Why should you get to cheat the rules? Especially if there is someone who has requested to be moved because she knows she has a tendency to get claustrophobic on long haul flights! Move into the seat you paid for and put the child next to the actual<\/em> empty seat in the middle, don\u2019t hog the aisle seat on a full flight and not actually SIT IN IT.<\/p>\n Impolite selfish people.<\/p>\n Anyway, that aside, the flight home was lovely, which is a blessedly nice situation compared to my first flight of this mess (my first flight I was a woman sitting next to a very very<\/em> stereotypical Indian gentleman who was just flat out rude and treated me like some kind of servant). My seatmates on the final flight to Vancouver were great, shared snacks and stories and actually even managed to laugh. Made the 10 hours go wonderfully quickly.<\/p>\n Let\u2019s see here, things I have learned about various airlines in this debacle:<\/p>\n Kindest Staff<\/u><\/strong>: <\/u>Qatar Airlines, by a long shot. Helped me find my luggage, let me hang out in their office for hours, rebooked my flight without question, and checked my bags through to Victoria when they really didn\u2019t have to.<\/p>\n Best Entertainment<\/u><\/strong>: Emirates air, 2000 movies free. Hands down awesome<\/p>\n Best Food<\/u><\/strong>: Also Emirates, through British Airways comes close<\/p>\n Worst Passengers<\/u><\/strong>:<\/u> Emirates, cultural thing, and I certainly don\u2019t hold it against them<\/p>\n Most comfortable<\/u><\/strong>: <\/u> British Airways, even in economy<\/p>\n Best Airport<\/u><\/strong>: Heathrow, by a long long shot<\/p>\n Worst Airport<\/u><\/strong>: Qatar. No luggage, no lockers, no sympathy, no proper signage, no easily approachable customer service<\/p>\n Other stats for this crazy journey:<\/p>\n Times through security<\/strong>: At least 7, possibly 8<\/p>\n Airports visit<\/strong>: 7<\/p>\n Hotels<\/strong>: 1<\/p>\n Time in Flight:<\/strong> over 30 hours<\/p>\n Times Gotten Lost: <\/strong>countless<\/p>\n Bags damaged<\/strong>: one<\/p>\n Flights taken<\/strong>: 6<\/p>\n When I finally landed in Victoria I stood at the baggage carousel watching everyone else collect their things and depart, with that now familiar sinking feeling in my tummy..<\/p>\n No, no surely not.<\/p>\n But the last bags came up the drop ramp and mine were not among them. I would have laughed, but I was too tired. To be so very close, and still have something go wrong.<\/p>\n I dutifully reported the loss, filled out the delayed baggage paperwork for immigration, and got on my flight home, where I filled out another missing luggage report.<\/p>\n It should be delivered this evening with any luck.<\/p>\n And as for me, I\u2019m safely at home, tired, achy and slightly dazed, but at least home\u2026<\/p>\n Mostly in one piece<\/p>\n I think\u2026<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" Okay\u2026let\u2019s try and start this at the beginning\u2026 Debark day is always strange, but it seems even stranger when you\u2019re leaving mid-contract. But wherever you\u2019re leaving from, it\u2019s always supposed to be simple. Exhausting, but simple.The flights are booked and … Continue reading