Airport Days

With our bags checked through and all of us anxious to go, we waited in the beautiful PDX terminal. Our flight to Atlanta was constantly delayed finally settling on a 5:40 pm departure from its scheduled 11:20 am. My online checks told me that it is becoming increasingly unlikely we would make our connection to Tel Aviv. But the Delta ticket-counter attendant had told us to go to Atlanta and we would be put up there. We were safely re-booked onto the same flight, only a day later.

Our flight finally left at 6 pm. We learned from the departing crew that the plane had mechanical problems in Atlanta before coming to Portland. They were two hours on the tarmac waiting for spare parts before finally going back to the terminal. Once everyone deplaned (I’ve always loved that word), and then reboarded, the flight was held on the runway for bad weather. The crew and passengers that arrived in Portland looked pretty bedraggled.

We finally boarded our Atlanta bound aircraft, which was pretty lightly full as everyone else either gave up or was rerouted. The captain came out into the cabin and assured us that he was as anxious to get home as anybody, promising to “fly this plane like it was stolen.”

We took off into a gorgeous Portland early evening sky and said farewell with an exquisite view of the city and mountains dappled in sunset hues.

Of course we arrived to an airport far different from the one we left. It had been a bad day in Atlanta! The gate agent who met us around 1 am told us there were no hotels and no vouchers. Our bags were checked through to Tel Aviv so we could not get to them. We assured him that it was the airline’s responsibility since the flight from Atlanta was delayed for mechanical reasons. He told us to go to the ticket counter, since the line at the help desk was too long.

He was right about the help desk – the line stretched halfway down the terminal. So we make our way through the huge Atlanta airport to the main terminal ticket desks. There the line was only several hundred people long – and there were two agents looking a little overwhelmed. It was about 2 in the morning and the line was moving not at all. A TV camera crew came by to film the line. I was not optimistic.

Boldly springing into action, Rick and Bill ran out to see if they could find a hotel on their own. They came back after half an hour or so and told us that there were no hotels to be found near the airport, but they did find something at the Sheraton Atlanta downtown. We decided to take it and deal with the airline later. As the airport doors opened we were greeted by the sticky humid Atlanta summer night. Bill had been waiting in the taxi line which at least moved quickly. Our bags were checked through to Tel Aviv so we could not get a change. Noting that most of us had not repacked our carry-ons we knew we’d be in these same clothes for another day.
The Atlanta Sheraton was lovely and we got a good night’s sleep at last.

Monday: a Day in Atlanta!