According to the Enneagram test, I am a Type 1. This means that I am perfectionistic, detail oriented and conscientious. Only one of these cute little attributes usually bites me in the ass when it comes to travel. And that would be the piece about me trying to make sure everything goes perfectly.
I derive intense pleasure when a plan comes together flawlessly. When every little detail from flights to hotels to tours fall perfectly into place. If there was an Olympic event for trip planning, I’d be a on that podium time and time again proudly wearing a gold medal around my neck.
As fun as the preplanning can be, it’s the journey that always has a way of bringing you back to reality. Something inevitably goes wrong or ends up not going your way. It’s the 3rd thing that is certain in this life after death and taxes, of course. I’m not ashamed to say that it has taken me many years and many trips to really understand that most things are outside of our control when it comes to travel.
Storytime…
Back in 2009, I travelled back to Germany after spending only a night in Munich during a study abroad trip my junior year of college some 5 years prior. My Mom and I decided we would travel to Munich in early October to catch some of the fall foliage. Due to her being an employee at a large airline in the US, I was lucky enough to be her chosen companion to share in the employee flight benefits. That meant free flights to wherever the airline flew, domestic and international. The only catch was that we had to fly standby. As long as there were two open seats on the plane, we were sitting in them!
We had a lovely time exploring all the things that Munich had to offer. For me that was biergartens, beer and more beer. We decided to be adventurous and order from the German menus instead of asking for the English translated ones. This was way before Google translate, kids. The “German only” menu idea got me into a little bit of a pickle when I accidently ordered the liver dumpling soup at Hofbrähaus. Four or five bites in and I knew it wasn’t a familiar taste of meat. My Mom figured out what I had ordered and ended up in a fit of laughter. At least the beer was good!
Our trip was coming to an end after a week in the city, and we were to head back to the States the next morning. We arrived at the airport, got checked in, went through the long security line, cleared immigration, and found ourselves early to the gate. Within a few minutes of the scheduled boarding time, a gate agent got on the intercom to announce that there was a mechanical issue with the aircraft and that we would be delayed. Bummer.
Roughly an hour later, the same gate agent announced that the flight had been cancelled due to the mechanical issue. This was bad news for Mom and I. Why? Well, you see, as a non-revenue passenger, airlines don’t have to do anything to help you get on another flight, because…you guessed it…you’re not a paying customer! Freeloaders don’t have any perks in a situation like this. Mom was frantic because our flight was the only flight on her airline back to the US out of Munich that day. We were cheap skates back then and certainly couldn’t just book a last-minute, same day, expensive flight on another airline. We had to figure out an alternative.
After some very expensive international phone calls from Mom back to her coworkers in the US, it was determined that our only hope was to take a train from Munich to Frankfurt as soon as possible to get on a flight leaving the next day for the US. We headed straight for the rail station to jump on the first train we could. The railway customer service agent got us on the next train out to Frankfurt. Thank, God!
Well, little did we realize, the train she booked us on wasn’t a high-speed train. We didn’t get that memo until we boarded the train and saw our estimated arrival time in Frankfurt. Oh well, at least we were stationary and could relax a bit.
Relax?! Yeah, not so much. About halfway through our journey, the train came to an abrupt stop on the tracks. Everyone looked around quite puzzled because we weren’t stopped at an actual station. A man came over the intercom and began to speak in his heavy German accent. I didn’t catch a single English word, of course. Mom and I looked at each other hoping that one of us miraculously now understood German. No dice. Luckily, there was a kind German man sitting across from us that could hear (and understand) the confusion in our voices. He luckily spoke English and informed us of what the train conductor had said during his announcement.
It wasn’t good news. Apparently, someone had tried to end their life on the tracks, hence the abrupt stop. Unfortunately, he wasn’t sure how long it was going to take to get moving again.
As time kept ticking away, I remember thinking, “Well, we are stuck here, and we can’t do anything about it. Stressing about something we can’t control would be a complete waste of energy”. Then I think I walked to the food/drink carriage and ordered a beer. I had the right energy for that.
The train finally started moving again after some time. I think our originally scheduled four-hour journey from Munich to Frankfurt ended up taking a little over six hours.
Since we didn’t have any cell phone coverage on the train, I suggested we find the Information desk in the Frankfurt train station to ask for a hotel recommendation for the night. Luckily, every train station has one. We were a little concerned that it was getting later in the evening.
We found the Information office at 8:55pm. We ran in huffing and puffing, five minutes before they were scheduled to close. Phew! We asked the agent if she would be so kind as to help us find a hotel room just for the night since we were flying out the next morning. We told her it didn’t need to be fancy; we just needed a bed to fit the both of us.
Her response went a little something like this…“Hotels? Zhere are no hotels.”
Umm, come again?
We just travelled for hours, with day old travel funk on us after a cancelled flight and a suicide attempt. And you mean to tell me you don’t have a single hotel room in this Godforsaken town?!
She elaborates, “Vee do not have any hotel roomz because of zee book fair.”
I reply, puzzled, “Book fair?”
She says, “It’s zee largest book fair in all of zee vworld.”
Well, shit. What. Are. The. Chances?!!!! Ahhhhh!
I begin to hysterically laugh. At this point, I am delirious and having a hell of a time processing what is actually happening. My body’s only response is to laugh. This does not please my Mother in the slightest. I try and wise up real quick to avoid pissing her off any further.
We begged the customer service agent to help us find a place to sleep. She managed to find a room at a hotel out by the airport, which worked out perfect since we needed to be there early in the morning anyway. It was not cheap, but it was our only option. She called us a taxi and off we went to our bed for the night. The next morning, we were on our way back home and got out of Frankfurt without any issues.
The moral of the story is that some things are inevitably going to go wrong when you travel. That goes for life in general too. It’s the Universe’s way of reminding you that you must make the most out of a crappy situation. And hell, your bad luck can always make for a great story later down the road. My advice to all travelers is when things don’t go your way, take a deep breath, remember where you are and always go with the flow.
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