We arrived in good time on Saturday, driven by our housesitter Jordan. We checked our bags and went to our gate. There was no sign showing Charlotte, our first stop. Kevin asked the young man at the desk and he said it would be up soon. However, it never showed and at two, one half hour before our flight was to take off, Kevin asked again.
Others had gathered. The young man said there was a maintenance problem and the plane would be late. Kevin asked about my ticket as I had to make a 4:30 flight to Paris. The man said he would have to rebook me as I would not make the flight.
Well, to make a long, extremely exhausting and complicated story, short this attempt at rebooking went on until almost five when we arrived home. Kevin's trip was rebooked to Manchester for Sunday. I was rebooked on the Paris flight, but no way to get to Krakow except with an $1100 Lufthanser one stop flight. We were discouraged. After awhile our travel agent called to commiserate and suggest a Czech one stop flight to Krakow for almost $600. I took it--what else could I do?
So we started again on Sunday, much earlier this time so that if anything were to happen, we would drive to Charlotte. And, things worked this time. Our plane took us to Charlotte. Kevin went to his gate and I went to mine. I didn't have to wait long before I boarded. I found my nice window seat and settled in comfortably. Then, a young man showed up with the same seat number where I was sitting. When the steward came, she asked if either ticket had recently been issued. I felt like crying but she assured me that I could stay on the plane. And, I did and in the same seat.
We arrived in rainy early, around 6:15. No lines and no people to ask questions. So I wandered around and around in a circle trying to figure out where to go. My seatmate (a chemist and former Fulbrighter to Russia with a home in Hendersonville and an apartment in Paris) saw me and helped by finding someone and explaining my problem in French. They then pointed me in the right direction and after a long walk and ride on the tram, I found the Czech Airline kiosk. I waited an hour for it to open, got my boarding pass, and then waited another hour for the plane to leave.
The plane left Paris and arrived Prague late. However, the turkey and cheese on a hearty baton was delicious, much better than the dismal AirFrance dinner the night before. And, the plane was noticeably clean and comfortable. I loved looking down on Prague with the lovely red roofs and in the distance a cluster of Soviet Style apartment buildings. I remembered the last time I was in an airplane over Prague, my seat mate held a Czech passport that said, F. Kafka. It turned out that he was the nephew of the writer!
When we landed, I figured out where to go, and then ran. There were no people at the gate and I had a sinking feeling. But a young woman at the desk asked, "Ms Lewis?" and I realized they were waiting for me. About the same time, a young man came running up and they knew his name also. We got on the plane and off we went. Another delicious sandwich--this one was ham and cheese.
In Krakow, the young man and I were together when the baggage came out. His yellow suitcase was first and I thought mine would follow. However, it did not and soon everyone was gone and there were no more bags. I walked out and was greeted with a big hug from Kaja. And, then we went to lost luggage. They discovered that my bag was in Prague and arranged for it to be brought to Krakow. It was delivered on Tuesday am.
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