A short story on the trials and triumphs of travel

This story is about our attempts to leave Scotland, but it deserved its own post. Most of you can probably relate to this struggle in some way. It began at the airport of course, where everything goes wrong all the time. After a long time driving an enormous van on the left side of the road in a country full of roundabouts, we were content with arriving at the airport early. We were so early, in fact, it was too early to even check in for our flight. We were so early we looked into cancelling and rebooking to an earlier flight. That didn’t work out, so we waited until we could check our bags and finally go through security.

With an abundance of caution and adversity to even the slightest amount of travel-related mental stress, we slowly enjoyed our airport dinner with hours to spare. I shamefully had my first glass of scotch in Scotland in the airport leaving (better late than never). We clinked our glasses and celebrated a successful trip abroad.

Monika’s family was flying back to the states, while Monika and I were headed on to Paris. Her family’s flight was before ours, but ours had been delayed half an hour anyway. So we said our goodbyes then went to kill more time at an airport brewery. We charged our phones, did a little work on our laptops, and stared vacantly over each other’s shoulders.

Another update came: our flight had been delayed another hour. Pretty annoying, but it was only 8pm at this point. We physically occupied space in a booth (that is the most interesting way I can describe our time there) for a bit longer before closing our tab and going to the gate to wait. Well, toward the gates. Ours hadn’t been announced yet.

Another notification: another delay. Starting to get irritated. More walking. A final notification: cancelled. Then we panicked a bit. I was still more irritated than panicked, with a dose of drowsiness too. It wasn’t even 9pm yet, why would they cancel the flight? The weather was fine. The airport was not overly busy. We went to find an EasyJet help desk.

John Mulaney has a great stand-up bit about Delta airlines that can really be applied to any airline that has ever screwed you over. He refers to the Delta help desk as an oxymoron. I would have loved to even make fun of the lack helpfulness of the EasyJet help desk, had it existed. We walked across the entire terminal and found nothing. Eventually we just had to leave to find the check-in desk where we dropped our bags to find anyone with an EasyJet shirt on.

We walked by a baggage claim on the way out, but didn’t see our bags after waiting for a few minutes. We were anxious to get our next flight sorted out so we left to find someone to talk to. We found a small crowd around the EasyJet desk and rushed over. Maybe out of order, but through various frustrating conversation both had and overheard we learned the following things:

• The two or three EasyJet “employees” by the bag check-in were actually contractors. They had no idea what was going on and there was no full time EasyJet employee in the entire airport. They were trying to call EasyJet, like the rest of us, to find out what to do.
• The flight was cancelled because it would have been past a midnight curfew at the Paris airport. I mean god forbid you work 30 minutes of overtime, so they cancel a flight at 8:30pm. I curse the French for their laziness, except in cases where they attempt to overthrow their own government.
• Our bags were unretrievable. Just not possible to get them anymore. They said we should have grabbed them on the way out. It did not matter to them that they weren’t there when we walked by.
• All flights to Paris the next day were fully booked.

So, I was on the phone with customer service trying to find a new flight. We settled on a flight into London, planning to take the train to Paris from there. We booked a hotel nearby and resigned ourselves to arriving the next day. There were a handful of others that had their bags trapped by the Edinburgh airport. We were venting with another Scottish couple on how ridiculous it all was. We explained our travel plans, and how sad we were that taking the train would be an additional $200. But it was our best option. They said that they had booked a flight out of Glasgow the next morning and planned to make the hour and a half drive to Glasgow. Then they offered us a ride.

We thought, wow, that is incredibly nice, and would actually be way better than our plan. After making sure they weren’t just being polite, we agreed and thanked them profusely. We exchanged numbers with Anthony and Milly and told them the hotel we were staying at tonight. I got back on the phone with EasyJet customer service to try and change my flight. I learned that their policy was only one flight change after a cancellation. I tried to appeal to the humanity of the stranger on the other end of the call by saying I was just on the phone with you 15 minutes ago. Surely it would not be unreasonable that I had made a mistake with my first booking a whole 15 minutes prior. He insisted he could not break policy. He was just following orders. Isn’t that what the Nazis said?

I mean, running a shitty airline has got to be the easiest job in the world, right? Just do the bare minimum all the time and only do what is legally required of you. They prey on the exhaustion of travelers, forcing them to cave to their subhuman treatment. I guess you don’t even need a single full time employee in any airport. Then you hire call center people to get yelled at for you, who in all likelihood are also contractors. This can apply to a lot of airlines, not just EasyJet. But to be clear, I am calling EasyJet a shitty airline.

So I did cave. I just didn’t feel like arguing all night with some poor guy whose job is to get yelled at every day. I bought a new flight out of Glascow, it was still the better option. We walked to the hotel and checked in, happy that all the work was finally done for the day, no matter the cost. I walked into our hotel room, slipped my shoes off, when Monika got a call. It was Anthony, telling us he was out front of the hotel and ready to go.

Here’s the thing. We had assumed they lived nearby, were going home for the night, and were leaving early in the morning. Turns out they booked a hotel in Glasgow for the night and were heading there immediately. In yet another panic, we spontaneously decided to go with it and figure the rest out on the way. We didn’t even get the chance to unpack so we hustled back to the hotel lobby. With my bloodshot eyes and frantic demeanor I informed the lady at the desk we were checking out and it was (sort of) an emergency. I’ll never forget the baffled look on her face. It must have been the fastest room check out she had ever seen.

There they were out front. Anthony got out and popped the trunk for us then we squeezed into the back. Then, we had a lot of time to chat. Anthony and Milly were a couple probably in their late twenties, close to us. Anthony was a train conductor and Milly was a nurse. They both were blonde and had friendly Scottish accents. We talked about our jobs and hobbies and COVID and traveling. Anthony (or Ant’ony in his accent) loved to hike and climb mountains and had climbed nearly all of Scotland’s tallest. They were so wholesome. It was literally the nicest thing a complete stranger has done for me in my entire life.

Monika booked a hotel during the drive and they dropped us off there. I felt like an idiot for not having cash. I asked him if he had Paypal or Venmo or Cashapp. Bitcoin? Anything! He insisted the gas was negligible because they were heading this way anyway. He said if I’m ever back in Scotland some day I can buy him a pint. Anthony and Milly if you ever read this, thank you, and next time I see you drinks are absolutely on me. We saw them briefly the next morning at the airport, since we were on the same flight after all. I hope they had a wonderful time at Disneyland Paris.

The whole experience made me reflect a lot. As I get older, I find it is very easy to grow cynical and disenchanted with the world. The more I learn the more I wish I didn’t know. The news is so doom and gloom. Scrolling on my phone just makes me angry. Outrage drives engagement etcetera etcetera. I could write ten posts on just the Murdoch family and how they ruined this country. But the people you see on TV or talk to online, that’s not real. As in, people don’t really talk like that face to face.

Anthony and Milly have enough karma banked to retire on. But I don’t think they offered us a ride hoping to get something out of it. They just saw two pathetic and desperate travelers that needed help. It gave me a lot of hope. You meet good people everywhere in the world. That is maybe what I have learned the most about travelling. Sure there is always someone in a tourist trap trying to make a buck off you. But really, most of us aren’t that different. Everyone has a piece of humanity which is the willingness to pass on a little kindness even if they have nothing to gain.

Just later that day we arrived in Paris and we were the clueless tourists trying to figure out the train schedule and spinning in circles while looking at the GPS. I had always been unwilling to go to Paris for the notoriety of Parisian hospitality. Throughout the day, multiple people were very welcoming. In a genuine way, like they were excited to see us. One man saw my train ticket wasn’t working, so he scanned his own and held the gate open for us to squeeze through.

Years ago I was in a Venetian hospital waiting room with blood coming out of both of my ears. My headache was so splitting I could hardly open my eyes. A few people, without me asking, went to the doctors asking if they could move me up the waiting list. I didn’t (and still don’t) speak any Italian. They tried to put me in front of their own ailments without ever even knowing my name.

I’ve had a bus driver let me on when they saw I had no money left. A man on a moped showed us the best place to watch the sun rise early one morning in Myanmar. I was lost in the narrow alleys of Marrakech and a man offered to lead me to my hotel. The whole time I thought he was going to mug me but he led me right to the front door. Of course, I try to tip people in these instances. But generally speaking most people are more than willing to give you directions, recommendations of things to do, or sometimes buy you a beer just to hear your stories from out of town.

Not everyone is as kind as Anthony and Milly. Actually, most people probably aren’t. I don’t know if I would personally give two strangers from another country a ride from the airport. But it was a good reminder that most people are good-hearted. The best way I can repay someone who refuses compensation is to pass on the good deed to someone else. It’s something I try to keep in mind wherever I go.