All I can do at this point is just laugh. I know it’s folly to say that Paris doesn’t want me to visit, but I just can’t help but think this way. Here’s why.
December 2022, my friend Elise and I were heading to Germany to visit Christmas markets all over the south. Our flight itinerary included a 5-hour layover in Charles de Gaulle (CDG) airport in Paris.
When I booked the flights, I knew that CDG was a massive airport, so I figured a 5-hour layover would be enough time to clear customs and change planes. Right?
Wrong.
Our airplane suffered from mechanical issues and we were delayed…
…5 hours. Mainly because Delta had to fly in a new airplane from LAX with the same configuration. But I digress.
We missed our connection and had to get rebooked on a later flight into Munich.
I know the mechanical issues weren’t personal, but after hanging out in a few airports longer than expected, my mind started to think otherwise.
Fast forward to my latest trip to Paris…
The night before my friend and I were scheduled to fly out, I received the dreaded email that no traveler wants to see in their inbox – our flight was cancelled.
No explanation. Just a vague promise to get us booked on the “next available flight.” What a croc.
There I was, stuck at work, helpless for a moment. But then I remembered I’m an expert traveler and got things in motion. I managed to leave early to figure this mess out so my friend, who had never traveled internationally before, wouldn’t have to deal with this alone.
So here was the sitch:
Delta had rebooked my friend and I on separate flights, each with a different layover, 2 days later.
Um, no. I specifically booked these flights for the nonstop option, and there was no way I was going to hop on an international flight with an hour layover in Denver.
After waiting on hold with customer service for almost an hour, many chats online with another rep, and a quick perusal of the website, I found our exact flight 24 hours later. Although not ideal, it was the next best option. We got booked on that flight and seated next to each other.
Okay Delta, so why wasn’t that the “next available flight” option? Ugh. Fine. I’ll do it myself, which is exactly what happened.
After rebooking a few of our excursions that we would miss, adjusting our accommodations for the trip, and ultimately deciding to push our return flight back 24 hours so our total days in Europe wouldn’t be cut short, we focused on the positive – we were going to Paris!
Checking in was a breeze, security wasn’t too bad, and our gate was thankfully close by (read: we didn’t get exiled to the B Concourse at the airport).
We waited at our gate and the excited butterflies started that always accompany a flight.
I refrained from saying anything out loud, so as not to jinx the flight, but I couldn’t help but hold my breath as we started to board our flight. It almost seemed too easy.
There my friend and I were, seated in row 50-something, ready to watch movies, snack, and sleep our way to Paris.
But…not so fast. Maybe Paris doesn’t want me to visit.
The pilot gets on the intercom to let us know he found a “minor electrical issue in the cockpit” that will take a few minutes to fix before we can push back from the gate.
I held my breath until I heard him get back on the intercom and then my lungs slowly deflated, along with my heart and hopes.
Apparently, while fixing the “minor electrical issue in the cockpit,” they found a whole host of other issues that needed to be fixed, and we would all need to deplane.
Great. Here we go again.
4.5 hours later, we finally get back on the plane. Fortunately everyone was moving a lot quicker, so we got seated and ready in no time.
Thinking it was time to fall asleep, we heard the pilot get back on the intercom.
“Okay, now what?” All I could think about was what else could go wrong at this point? Maybe Paris doesn’t want me to visit.
As it turned out, someone didn’t want to wait and go on the flight, so they took off. But since they had checked their luggage, we had to wait for the baggage handlers to locate their suitcases before we could go.
Yet another reason to pack carry-on!!
When we finally pulled away from the gate and started to take off, I could have cried from sheer joy. We were finally going to Europe!
Obviously I don’t think Paris has some kind of vendetta against me, but I can’t help but wonder. Or consider the fact that Delta needs to get its crap together and provide better planes for their direct flights into CDG…
