June 17, 2015 PDX-MSP-CDG-Bud

 
Off again on another adventure.  This year we are forgoing our Canadian friends (eh?) in lieu of Air France (Hah Hah), so I will get to see Paris finally – for 1 hour and 50 minutes!

The obligatory PDX Foot Photo on the new carpet.
Not quite the same, but unique none the less.
What do you think?

Air France (Har Har? – I’ll figure out how to spell it later.  For now, just know that you pronounce it as snarkily as possible) partners with Delta in the US.  Delta has an unsavory reputation with musicians, as is evidenced by the many horror stories in the International Musician (the union publication of us musician types).  I’ll be good and reserve judgment.  Trumpet cases are pretty small.

We were picked up this morning by my Mom and Dad.  In what is surely an omen of things to come, traffic is a nightmare in Portland today because a truck full of empty wine bottles crashed on the I-5 Bridge.  That said, if it is an omen, I am not quite sure what to do with it.  Will we break a lot of bottles this year?  Will they only be empty bottles?  Will I forego beer for wine this trip?  Possible.

The obligatory PDX foot shot -
probably one of the last
on the old carpet.

All of this said, we made it across the bridge early enough for breakfast at the Cameo, easily breezed through customs and our security vetting (it is only a "security check” if you travel domestically) and into the waiting area like seasoned pros – which I suppose we are at this point.  I’m enjoying the lack of drama so far!

*****

In the “Karma punishes small sins immediately” department: I typed the above before leaving Portland.  So of course, we “enjoyed” an extra 1.5 hours sitting on the plane in Minneapolis while they “added more fuel” and then “fixed a technical difficulty.”  As we had a 1.5 hour layover in Paris, I wrote off my croissant and looked forward to my run through the airport.

*****

A quick conversation we had as we flew over Minneapolis:

Happy moments on the plane. 
This would be before the "meal" service

Z: “Is that a football stadium.  There’s a game going on.”

D: “No.  That’s a baseball stadium.”

Z: “What is the name of their team, the Vikings?”

D: “That would be the Twins – baseball, remember?”

My wife is a football fan, can you tell?

*****

This was our first flight on Air France, and all I can say is: “eh.”  The announcements about the fuel and difficulties are of the evasive sort that I expect from all airlines anymore.  But they get things going eventually and get you headed in the right direction.  On an international flight, the next thing they want to do is get you fed so they can get you to go to sleep and stop bothering them with requests. 

A travel tip that we have lived by for years: if you must eat airline food, develop a dietary restriction.  Be a vegan, only eat kosher, etc.  The food is freshly prepared, and generally shows a little more effort than the stuff they bring around.  That said: avoid the gluten-free one, it was awful.  You can tell by this that our standards for inflight meals is pretty rock-bottom, but even by this standard Air-France found a way to hit a new low.  Look, I don’t expect a gourmet meal, but at least put a modicum of effort into it.  This is not met by serving me a meal of tortellini and cheese (mac and cheese), a apple sauce cup, a slice of Tillamook Monterey Jack Cheese, a dead roll with butter, and, in an attempt to be futzy, some fresh melon.  In short, the lunch I serve my grandkids.  Breakfast was not much better.  But with a 24 hour day ahead, and an uncertain future ahead on connecting flights, you shudder and attempt to get it down.

Don’t touch your meal on an Air France flight if you would like to have a beverage.  If they look at your tray and see the food gone, they won’t even acknowledge your presence. The bring the “special meals” out before they bring the cattle car around, and so we ate them, as we always do, while they were hot.   It was pretty humorous, then, when the gentleman flight attendant started to ask what we wanted, looked at our tray and saw the completed meals, and briskly turned around.  The “no drinks for you” message received loud and clear.

*****

I have never been to France before.  When you have a short period of time to experience a culture, you have to boil it all down to one thing.  I realize that this is stereotyping, but until I get a chance to visit with more time to look around, it is all I often have time for.  The trick is usually to have a quick culinary experience with something they are noted for.  If I am passing through Germany and only have a few moments, show me where to get a beer.  They do it better than the rest.  One day in Italy – show me to a pizza stand.  Z is still trying to find the cheese-steak sandwich shop in the Philadelphia airport.  I knew we wouldn’t have very much time, and so decided that a croissant would have to stand in for the Paris experience.  I figured this went out the window with the late start.

The Palinka bottle at the
end of the journey!

We touched down at Charles De Gaulle Airport with 50 minutes to spare to make our connecting flight to Budapest.  After taxiing around for 25 minutes and the usual cattle-car deplaning procedure, we had about 15 minutes to make our next flight.  Z and I have a deal that we made several years ago that we do not run through airports anymore.  You almost never make you flight, and all you get out of the experience is sweaty clothes that you get to enjoy through your next flight.  But the flight attendant convinced us that our next flight left just around the corner, so we decided to try for it.  Somewhere in our mad dash down the never ending hallway I think we both realized that there wasn’t a chance in heck of making it, but once started you have to see it through.  It won’t surprise you then to hear that we ran down the hall, cleared passport control, and arrived at our gate – just in time to watch them close the door and tell us we could not board the flight.

For what it’s worth – after waiting in line for an hour to get rebooked, and settling down to rest for a sec, we discovered an e-mail from Air France that they apologized for the delay, and had rebooked us already.  We could have ditched the line and picked them up at the gate.  Oh well…

And the croissant?  They were sold out.  We settled for a baguette.  It was pretty swell.

Remind me never to joke about road issues again!

June 24 (and 25 and 26), 2013

Dave and Z in Toronto. 
How we got there is a long story.

As always, our trip begins with an unexpected adventure.  We had an inkling that this might be coming when Z’s mom called in the middle of the week before our flight, full of curiosity about how the flooding in Calgary was going to affect our travel plans.  Z led me to believe that her phone call was filled with somewhat more urgency about her “curiosity” than the word would lead one to believe.  I believe the word “panic” was used in her description of the conversation more than a few times.

Regardless, frequent internet checks of Air Canada’s web site on my part continued to show green on flights into and our of Calgary, although you may have troubles driving to the airport.  Not a problem we reasoned, we were flying in.  I, therefore, returned to doing something much more important – playing with my grandkids.

Meanwhile in the background, the Drums of Doom began to beat.

CNN News report: Calgary flooding will crest at noon on Monday (that would be at the day and time we were supposed to fly through Calgary).  Back I go for a quick internet check.  Air Canada still shows green!  No worries!

Z, in total paranoia mode: “Have you checked the internet lately?”  She actually did this several times.  Back to the computer for another green report from Air Canada.

You have to understand that in our household, I take these events seriously.  These things are not “Acts of God.”  In Z’s opinion these events are all my fault.  See last year’s debacle with our baggage as proof (June of last year).

So on June 24^th, when all was clear and the lights were green at Air Canada, I breathed a sigh of relief and thought all was well in my world.

And the beat of the Drums of Doom got louder…

We went out and ran a few errands.  Had a quick brunch with Kyra, Nico and the grandkids, and, following tearful goodbyes, were ferried to the airport.

We had probably our easiest time ever, breezing through check-ins and security vetting and the like as seasoned pros.  We arrived at our nearly empty gate early, which as it turns out was a good thing.  For this was when the Drums of Doom got so loud even we could hear them.

In recent years I have begun to check boarding gate numbers while we are waiting.  All too often they have changed to another gate nearby, and it is useful to know this early.  This is where I overheard a gentlemen talking with the Gate Overlord –  or whatever they call them – from United about the text he had just received from Air Canada that “all flights to and from Calgary had been canceled.”  Said Gate Overlord informed us to call Air Canada directly, as the nice United folks couldn’t access the Air Canada booking computer.



Air Canada - the greatest airline ever!

A quick phone call later – OK, 10 minutes on hold and a 15 minute phone call later – and we were completely rebooked.  Pity the poor souls who found out about this later and were on hold for as long as 45 minutes.  Our new route took us from PDX to Vancouver, Canada (Eh?) with a long enough layover for a leisurely dinner.  From Vancouver we would take a red-eye to Toronto, where we were faced with a fifteen hour layover.  To make it up to us, the nice Air Canada man threw in a “Day Room” to hang out in.  By the way, did he mention that “we can make a positive out of a negative here?  Did you know that Niagara Falls is a short car trip away?”  Yes he did.  Repeatedly.  Finally we would travel on to Frankfurt on another red-eye flight to Frankfurt, a day later than planned.

All of this, of course, necessitated a trip back out to the front counter for a “do over” of our check-in, security vetting, etc…  Needless to say, the nice folks at United that ran Air Canada’s desk had no clue about any of the new arrangements.  Fortunately, we had new flight numbers and were quickly – OK, 45 minutes later while they unburied themselves from the chaos this all caused – on our way.

These things bring out the best and the worst in people.  Z and I have now been through enough of them together that we start getting the giggles and teasing each other – Niagara Falls getting a lot of play this trip.  This tends to lower our stress level and make us a lot of new friends, for example, Meg from London who was standing next to us while they unraveled our flight information.  She was on her way back after a couple of week vacation for job interviews in cartography, and was hoping she would have time for a shower before she went.  We wished her luck, and if her travels went as smoothly as ours, she should have been OK.

The United agents were great through this unexpected disruption to their workday – even-tempered and good-humored about it all.  Even in the face of the “gentleman” Z quickly dubbed “Mr. Grouchy-Pants.”

*****

Dear Mr. Grouchy-Pants,

The nice ladies behind the counter do not control the weather.  Nor do they work for the airline you are intending to fly.  What’s more, they are just a bit overwhelmed at the moment with all the other people in the same boat as you.  We’ve all got the same problem.  Chill out.  They will get you there.  They are not going to abandon you at PDX.  Although we can hope.

Thanks Awfully,

*****

The agents in question are Amy and Shelley – and they are wonderful.  United, give them a raise.  They let the negative roll off of them while entertaining us with commentary about being on hold.

An aside here – Amy had the singular greatest pin I have ever seen.  It was an oval metal pin, printed in blocky corporate travel type – obviously provided by and expected to be worn by the airline.  The text: “Ever been to Phuket, Thailand?”

A second security vetting and we were back at the same gate we started this all with.  No biggy.  After giving up my horns to ride under the plane (yikes!), we were on our way to Vancouver.  I amused myself (childishly, I admit) on the short flight by writing “eh?” after every incidence of the word Canada.  Hey, it was something to do.

In Vancouver we followed directions and cleared Canadian customs into the International Flight area.  Things having finally settled down, we had time for a bad airport meal, so we enjoyed one.  I didn’t know it was possible to screw up tomato soup, but Hourton’s managed to do so.  Z said her “Chinese Food” was not much better.

We took a walk after dinner and looked over the flight boards, as we didn’t have a gate number on our boarding pass for the next leg.  Strangely, none of the posted flights seemed to be going to Toronto.  A quest to find an information booth to solve this dilemma eventually led to our meeting “Irish Peter,” a chipper and helpful gentleman, who then introduced us to Alex, the Lead Concierge at Vancouver Airport.  After listening to our tale of woe, Alex led us through the airport, opening magic elevators and down empty hallways – always with a smile and the reassurance “don’t worry, I’m staying with you until everything is right and you are where you are supposed to be.”

A few words about the airline employees we met on this day are prudent at this point in our journey.  This has been an amazingly stressful day for them so far.  Chaos reigns everywhere, and nothing is going according to plan.  Yet, everywhere we go, whomever we meet, they are friendly, courteous, and in good spirits.  On a day where it was probably the last thing on their mind, they took the time to make us feel comfortable and cared for.  Props are offered to the employees of United and Air Canada indeed!

Working on the blog -
The book is green and yellow this year!

Alex eventually got us straightened out and to the nice man at Baggage Claim – you guessed it, bags lost again – who quickly filled out the correct forms and got them in our hands, reassured us that in all likelihood our bags would catch up with us in Toronto due to the length of our layover, and directed us to the security vetting for our next flight; number 3 for the day.

I should mention in passing that every one of these security vetting has cost us a $2.50 bottle of water or soda.  I get the security thing but: do we really need to have 5 security vettings on three legs of a flight?  And, more importantly, I can get the same bottle of water at my local Safeway for less than a dollar.  As we are no longer allowed to bring liquids through security, you and I both know there is now a huge captive market on the other side.  To mark up soda and water this much is Highway Robbery and my Congress Folks should be looking into this.  Just sayin’

Security vetting number 3 lead to our first “downer moment” on our trip.  It seems there is metal in my splint/cast thing.  In the course of taking it off for the police dude, I bent my wrist incorrectly, leading to an excruciatingly painful moment.  This is why they make Advil.  And expletives.  But “made it aboard” we eventually did, and off to Toronto we did go.

Our “Red Eye” flight got us in Toronto at around 6:00 in the morning and off to meet more nice Air Canada (or Air Canadia, as Z calls them) folks.  A short stop at the customer service counter found our evening flights reconfirmed, a new trace put out for our missing bags, and a voucher for our Day Room – they even threw in vouchers for breakfast and lunch!

Day Rooms used to be common in travel, back in the days of multi-day trips with many layovers.  Today, they have mostly fallen by the wayside of corporate travel and big business cost cutting.  Our Air Canada folks looked at each other, one telling the other “you are going to have to beg the hotel for it.”  What you end up with is a clubhouse to hang out in, garb a shower and a cuppa, and most importantly, a nap between legs.

The Congress Center in Toronto -
about all we saw of Niagara Falls!

A tip we have learned on several of these adventures and pass on for your consideration.  We were particularly delighted to get vouchers for both breakfast and lunch.  While those vouchers will get you a full meal at the airport, not so much at the hotel.  If you want both meals, then, eat them before you leave and after you come back.  Our $17.00 CDN would seem to be plenty for breakfast to buy a nice, sit down breakfast at the hotel– all we cared for.  Z had eggs and bacon, I had cereal and some fruit, and we still ended up kicking in $8.00 CDN out of pocket, plus gratuity, of course.

We hated to disappoint our Air Canada travel scheduler guy, but we passed on Niagara Falls to catch a nap and shower – maybe next trip – and were back early to grab some lunch at Toronto Airport before the next leg.  The cool thing here is that all of the restaurants in the concourse have you order off of I-Pads.  After you order, you are free to surf the web while you wait for your meal and flight.  I caught up on the Duck’s Football woes while enjoying a “Detox Salad” of greens, sweet potato, seasoned tofu and dried cranberries.  Z opted for coffee and a gluten-free brownie.  I’m not sure what she looked at on her I-Pad, but I would bet Facebook.  I think we both walked away happy – I know I did.

*****

My favorite thing to do on international flights is watch “Airplane TV,” the map thing they give you so that you know where you are in your journey.  It is insightful into what is deemed important to the mapmakers.  Of course, there is also hours of fun to be had looking at place names: Grimsby, Uxbridge, Gananoque, Magog, Antogonish.  Do they make cleaners in Ajax?  Does everyone in Tweed wear tweed?  Argyle in Argyle?  Does everyone have cancer in Asbestos?  I assume very small people live in Dalhouse.  Don’t forget to take a gander at Gander.  Then there is the ever popular Godthab – what does it mean?  You know it is important in that you can see it on the big map for almost the entire journey.

The "end of journey" traditional palinka and bundt cake!

*****

We were picked up, a day late, at Frankfurt Airport by Peter and Valentin, the gentleman Peter and Vera rent an apartment from in Germany, and were whisked off to Niedernhall.  Awaiting us was the traditional palinka and Bundt cake.  Let the vacation begin!

6-22

6-22

6:20 in the morning and we are picked up by Haley, who will be attending to the house and being abused by the cat while we are gone. She whisked us to the airport and left us to our fate (Z did get a hug out of the deal.

We prechecked our tickets, so arriving at the airport, all that was left to do was check the bags. Since we will be throwing all of this into a car 15 hours from now for our trip to Hungary we tried to get things into the smallest number of bags possible. This, as it turns out, was not the greatest of plans. Two of our three bags, it seems were over weight. So for the price of a new bag (which we could have checked for free) we got our three bags onto the plane and made our way back for breakfast and to board our flight - where, following the Murphy's law of teachers, we got to have a brief chat with the CRHS Video Production students on the way to Nationals in Kansas City (Go Chiefs! - Nick, I want my metronome back!)

Into the air, where for an hour I had the worst sinus pain of my life before blowing a golf ball sized hunk of gook out of my nose. For what it's worth, pretty much everything is seven bucks on US Air now. Buy the drink at the airport. It really is cheaper!

7/3 & 4/08 Not in a Philadelphia

And we’re off.

Hailey picked us up at 6:00 a.m. after a very short night. We had a huge electrical storm with lots of thunder and lightning that made sleep somewhat unlikely. Alright, waiting to the last minute to pack probably didn’t help a whole lot either. On the plus side, we both got a whole lot more sleep than usual on the plane!

We did a play several years ago at VSAA that had a short piece called “Philadelphia” in it. According to author David Ives, to “be in a Philadelphia” meant that you could order anything you want; a burger, a chicken sandwich, and they will bring you a cheese steak. By these standards, you can’t be in a Philadelphia in Philadelphia, as there is no cheese steak to be had in the airport. We toyed with using our four hour layover to grab a cab and go downtown for one of the famous sandwiches. Needless to say, as a vegetarian, I wasn’t that into it. But Z would be, and that’s reason enough. We took a pass this time, but maybe on the way back.

You begin to notice on international trips that you are going through the looking glass as you catch the last leg of your flight. Increasingly the people around you speak in a language that is not yours. At this point, your attention is increasingly drawn to the way people behave, the cultural similarities and differences. A mother, with a tired but beautiful smile on her face trying to keep her daughter awake before the flight. A father and son, both with a laptop out, the former a PC the latter a Mac (I wonder if they argue over the commercials).

I was lucky enough to draw one of those people on the international leg of the flight that sits down in front of you and instantly drops the seat all the way back and then leaves it there for the remainder of the flight. It gets to be a little claustrophobic and hard to read and stuff. No I didn’t smack her or bounce the back of the chair around. But I thought about it.

The nice mom from the airport ended up sitting right next to us. Needless to say you start to worry a little on a flight where you are hoping to sleep a bit and you see a kid right next to you. The poor lady was obviously exhausted, but was completely devoted to her daughter. I took mom about two hours to get daughter to drop off, and then she slept for the rest of the flight. So did mom.

We were met in Munich by Kyra and Jaden. Jaden insisted that I sit in the back so we could talk on the hour-and-a-half ride to Vilseck, their home. Jaden has reached the age where she can explain anything, so the conversation was pretty humorous (“…a car is made by putting for wheels, and then you add the sides, and then you add the top, and then…”).

We celebrated the fourth with dinner and conversation with several of Kyra’s friends in Vilseck. Kim and Nick hosted a barbecue, with Katie and Russell and Z and I as guests, as well as a few drop-ins. The gentlemen needed to drop out for a bit after one of the guests left and had an accident on the way home (no one hurt). A pleasant evening of conversation.

Several of you commented on our last trip that you enjoyed the beer notes. There should be several this trip so I’ll try and keep you posted.

Meister Pils, Schwarben Bräu Breweri, Stuttgart, 4.9% by Volume

To be fair, this beer is past its pull date. That said; the beer is more malty than hoppy. The nose is supposed to be Tettnanger according to the label (yes, they sell themselves on their aromatics). Very flavorful taste on the front of the mouth, with a nice chewy flavor that is all malt. Disappears on the back of the palette quickly, with little contribution to the overall flavor. A nice session beer. And yes, I enjoyed my session. (www.schwabenbraeu.de)