Dispatch from Airline Limbo, April 17, (I think)

Dispatch from Airline Limbo, April 17, (I think)

The “I think” comes from being in Airline Limbo, a place where the date and time become lost in the surreal shadow land airport life.
We left Baras Beach by boat to get to Iloilo for our flight to Manila, and then (our tickets said) on to Melbourne and Auckland NZ overnight. That seems like days ago. The boat trip was wonderful. We sailed along north along the whole coast of Guimaras island, passing soaring cliffs rising straight from the ocean and turquoise, palm lined bays, while the wind blew the blue sea into whitecaps that slapped us in the face from time to time with salty water.
Arriving in Iloilo, we discovered that our flight had been delayed, not an usual occurrence in air travel these days. But, that was our gateway to Airline Limbo. You see, when flights are linked like a fragile chain, one broken link can set the traveler loose, especially when you’re flying one way around as we are. Rerouted to another airline, but still leaving late, we landed in “the old domestic terminal.” No problem, right? Anywhere but Manila. Manila airport is a huge complex with several “terminals” all of them unlinked by, say, tunnels or even shuttle busses. You’re pretty much on your own to get to another terminal, and while it’s at the same airport, it’s anywhere from 20 to 40 minutes away by taxi. Fortunately the airline arranged for taxi service for us.
So we get out at Terminal 2, the international terminal, with all our luggage in hand, to discover that we had missed our flight by 5 minutes. No problem, we can get on the next flight----next Tuesday (this being Saturday). Is there no other way? Well, just maybe, if you can get to the Quantas flight to Sydney, you can still get out tonight, and Philippines airlines was willing to book us on that. OK, where’s that? It’s in Terminal 1, another taxi ride or 20 to 40 minutes, all our luggage in hand again. We were met by Quantas personnel who rushed us through security and literally ran us to the desk. Much head scratching and staring at computer screens reveal that our flight that night is booked, in fact overbooked, and, besides, we’re too late for it too. We’re outside again with our luggage for anther 20 minute ride back to, you guessed it, Terminal 1. Now we’re in serious limbo, and standing at the desk of the supervisor or supervisors, a cool, serious, formidable woman. We immediately sensed that this was going to require tact and firmness all at once.
The next flight is still Tuesday. “I’m sorry, Ma’am, but that just throws our whole schedule off. "Is there any other way to get to Auckland, any at all?” Well, much computer searching, head scratching, and running to various counters later, there is a way…maybe. “Tomorrow, [that must be today, Sunday] you can fly to Singapore, and catch a Quantas flight to Melbourne, and then to Auckland, if everything works on schedule, a big if, we’re finding out. “And tonight?” we ask hesitantly, since it’s now about 10 p.m.. Well, that’s one good part of Airline Limbo; you get to stay in really nice hotels, like the Manila Sheraton something or other. We had a great bed, a hot shower (our first one in the Philippines) and a room that was air-conditioned enough to serve white wine without refrigeration, and the most spectacular breakfast buffet we’ve ever seen.
So far so good. We’re on our way to Singapore, not that we’re likely to see much of it, and we hope to get that flight to Melbourne, and hope that Quantas will let us on the flight to Auckland a day late without paying another ticket.
That’s Airline Limbo, and we’re still not out of it by a long shot. I’m grateful for some wonderful people. Let me tell you, they can’t pay those airline employees enough who have the special assignment of working with people like us in Airline Limbo. We had people sympathize with us (Jeanne said she would cry if needed, but it wasn’t), run with us, smile at us, brainstorm alternatives, and open doors while we lugged our baggage one more time.
Don’t get this wrong. We’re not complaining. How can we? We’re on a round-the-world adventure, and this is just a necessary, and probably not all that uncommon, part of the adventure.