|What could possibly go wrong...?|
The Bootsnall travel blogging challenge continues...today we ‘fess up to one of those travel moments we’d rather forget.
Everyone makes mistakes. We forget to ask for Coke without ice in Mexico and spend the rest of the trip in the bathroom. Or we arrive at the airport for a 7pm flight only to realize the flight left at 7am. Tell us the story of your worst travel mistake.
|Getting to the flight on time....|
Russia. May, a few years ago. After two absorbing days in St Petersburg and two exciting days in Moscow, departure time - a Lufthansa flight to Frankfurt. As you may know, Moscow has several airports, two of which share the same name. You already know where this is going, don’t you?
Sheremetyevo 1 and Sheremetyevo 2. Ah, yes. I remember them well. Both of them.
|St Basil's, Red Square, Moscow|
Out to the cab rank, dragging the luggage, a hand-signal ‘conversation’ with the Russian taxi driver, the printed itinerary again coming into crucial play, and I was off again, only mildly hopeful that this was the right thing to be doing. But after a short ride I was debouched at another airport terminal.
Inside Sheremetyevo 2 it was as eerily quiet as Sheremetyevo 1 had been bustling. I stood looking rather forlornly at another bevy of signs in Russian, when a passing gentleman took a little pity on me. “Departures?”, he asked (I am translating now from Russian/intuition/hand signals towards a lift). I and my bag took the indicated lift, then a corridor, and arrived, completely alone, in what looked like a rather depressing departures area, with a few plastic seats in the middle and a row of closed and shuttered check-in counters. Above the counters, the electronic boards where a flight number (that precious identifier) might appear, were all blank. There was absolutely no-one there but me. It was 9 am. My flight was due out in about an hour.
|Pushkin. No help at all.|
Gradually other prospective passengers began to arrive and take the other seats. Still no life from the check-in counters. No flight numbers displayed. Time passed. Was I in the right place? No way of telling, and no one to ask. I just waited.
|All calmed down now...Alexander park, Moscow, in May.|