My recent trip to Victoria was marred by canceled flights, a terrifying Uber ride from one airport to another, a dog named Ginger, and much more.
I’ve written about that experience already.
Unfortunately, the trip home was also miserable.
When Delta rebooked my flights to Victoria—by putting me in an Uber with a weepy driver and shipping me to another airport—the ticket agent accidentally booked the third leg of the trip for the following day, meaning that when I arrived in Calgary, I had a ticket for 19 hours in the future.
Unable to exchange the ticket in Calgary, I was forced to purchase a brand new ticket from Calgary to Victoria, and the Delta agent said she would cancel my next-day ticket.
She did not.
This meant that I was labeled as a no-show for that flight, which triggered Delta to assume I had not arrived in Victora—even though the second ticket I purchased to Victoria was through Delta— which prompted Delta to cancel all of my return flights.
This seems crazy to me, but apparently it’s policy.
My flights were canceled overnight, so when I arrived at the airport in Victora at 4:00 AM on Friday, I discovered that I had no tickets home.
You can imagine how pleased I was to discover that Delta had arbitrarily canceled all my flights.
So, I was forced to purchase another entire set of flight homes since my original flights were now fully booked.
The first available flight out of Victora was for 10:30 AM, which meant I had awoken at 3:00 AM to arrive at 4:00 AM for a 6:00 AM departure from Victoria, which would now be almost five hours later.
It was a long day filled with long, untimely layovers, but it was interspersed by memorable moments.
I found myself playing a storytelling improv game with two kids in the Victoria terminal and eventually teaching their parents how to play, which managed to kill some time.
I also squeezed in meetings with two clients, spread out amongst three airports, so I made a little money while waiting.
My friend, Rob, sent me a list of golf courses in the Calgary area when it looked like my layover might extend for six hours or more, and I started to seriously consider calling to see if I could rent clubs at any of the courses.
I ate a proper Canadian breakfast featuring poutine, slabs of bacon, and pounds of sausage.
I hip-checked a man trying to rush to the front of the plane ahead of his fellow passengers, giving the people in front of us time to block the aisle.
I chatted with a man from London while sitting on a bench in Calgary and was voice-recognized by someone sitting behind us who heard my speaking, wondered if it was me (that storyteller from the radio), searched online for a photo of me, and compared it to me before saying, “It’s you! I recognized your voice, but I didn’t know what you looked like!”
“Better or worse than you thought?” my new friend from London asked.
Flustered, the woman said, “Neither.”
Not a ringing endorsement.
I also wrote, read, and yearned for fresh air, green grass, and freedom from travel hell.
Of course, my final flight to Connecticut was also delayed, extending my journey even longer. In the end, I entered the airport in Victora at 4:00 AM and exited Bradley International Airport in Connecticut 19 hours later. I walked through my front door at 1:30 AM and was asleep by 2:00 AM.
Tough day.
For the record, the day I actually spent in Victoria, Canada, was fantastic. I met some extraordinary people and did some great work. The view from my hotel room was incredible. I ate delicious food, engaged in stimulating conversations, and made new friends from all over the world.
It was simply sandwiched by travel hell.
I often tell clients that they’re not paying me for the handful of hours I’ll spend working with them and their people or delivering the keynote. They’re paying me for the time I spend in airports and airplanes and away from my family.
It’s not entirely true, but on travel days like last week, it often feels like it.
May all of your future travel adventures be more adventurous and less frustrating than mine.
