Nostalgia in the Rose City

Phantom of the Opera from the grand piano, live for the pleasure of the folks streaming through security and waiting to board their planes. Wifi blankets the air. Quiet hush of people bustling but not rushed. It feels like there's sunlight streaming through the walls and ceilings of windows even though the sky is actually grey. 

Leaving Portland is always hard. She smiles on you to the end, so your heart is wrenching as you walk out the door, tears streaming, wondering if you should have stayed longer, or if you should return. Emotion runs deep in the Northwest, where the multi-hued grey clouds hangs low adding depth to the sky, and the sun glows down imbuing color and contrast to the land. Even airport security was pleasant, with extra friendly folks in line, security and gate agents who were the same, plus efficient. 

So here I sit, wondering what is next again, with so many possibilities on the horizon. 

(Kathie & Genie at Portland International Airport)

Flying out to Deutschland

I looked like what I’d imagine an insane first-time traveler looks as I sweated my way through security lines with not one, but TWO laptop computers. One was this tiny Acer Aspire; the other was my 5 year old Apple dinosaur, still good for running music and dvds. I wore two coats as I rolled an engorged suitcase, on which I’d also strapped a pink monkey blanket. Add an aqua blue messenger bag, crammed with books that had to be removed from my checked bag, and you have the idea. Did I mention that I felt the need to buy a Portland shot glass for $2.49 and a Portland coffee thermos for $9.95 after I got to the airport? I’m also wearing a blue t-shirt with Powell’s Books written inside a graphic of the state of Oregon.

Now you see why the poor ticket agents may have felt bad for me.

Or not.

We arrived at the airport this morning about 6:45AM. Carrie and Oatie dropped me off. I got out of Carrie’s car with my 50 pound (army green- no joke) duffel bag and blue bag over my shoulder and carrying my orange bike-in-a-box. Carrie followed with my rolling carry-on. She gave me a hug and off I went.

I proceeded to the line. A NWA lady walked up to help me right away.

After my fiasco of the night before, discovering that I could have only one bag (resulting in emergency bag consolidation) and the bike was going to cost double what I’d been told, I decided that I’d go with the expectation that NW would do the right thing. My horoscope (everyone knows that’s God speaking to us, right?) had told me that if I expected the worst, that was what would happen; if I expected the best, then vice versa.

The first lady told me, “The bike will be $300.”

I said, “I’d been told over the phone that the bike was $150-175.”

She said, “Yes, but our fees have changed. It’s $300.”

I said, “I called last week and the man on NWA phone said $150-175. I could’ve shipped it for free.”

She said, “How could you have shipped it for free?”

“I had a container shipped to Germany. I’m moving there.”

She disappeared and spoke with her supervisor, who then came over and said,
“It’s $300 to ship your bicycle. The fees have changed.”

“I know, but I was told on the phone it was $150-175. Your fees aren’t listed on your website. The only way I would have known this was by talking to the person on the phone.” I maintained my composure. (Probably because I was half-awake.)

She and the ticketing agent went over to a different computer and shuffled papers. I waited. Patiently.

“You already spoke to a supervisor and they told you it was $300.”

“Yes, that was last night. I didn’t speak to a supervisor, the woman on the phone spoke to her supervisor and they told me you were the only ones who could change the fees, so they told me to ask you when I checked in.”

They went away again. And shuffled more papers. Then came back and said, “We’ll charge you the $175.”

“Ok, thank you.” It was only fair. But with airlines, little is fair these days. Once you buy a ticket, you’re at their mercy. No compensation for errors, late planes, lost or broken luggage, the list could go on.

I waited as the woman typed in my info, charged me and got my bicycle tagged up. I said something about how NW has been a good airline and I’d thought I might have to check in with Delta.

She said, “Soon we’ll be no more- it’s sad. It brings a tear to my eye.”

“I know. I’ve been flying with them for so many years because I’m from North Dakota. They’ve always been good to me.”

After everything was tagged, I loaded my 50 pound duffel, aqua messenger, the bike-in-a-box and my rolling suitcase and walked over to the luggage drop, where the man said, “Let me help you with that large item!” Taking away the bike-in-a-box.

I said, “That’s not the big one,” showing him my shoulder bag.

Knowing I could make it with all my luggage was empowering.

I walked off, lighter, when my phone rang. It was Carrie. I told her everything went fine. She said, “That took you a long time at the check-in counter. What were they doing? I was watching you from outside the whole time.”

How sweet it is to have a sister like that.

The last few days at her house were a good ending to my time in Portland. This time when she dropped me off to move overseas, there were no tears of emotion. It was just another move, to a country I know.

“I’ll see you in Germany,” we said.

What fun would flying be without last minute baggage glitches?

I was attempting to check in online for my flight. Previously, one could not check in for international flights online, but now things have improved. Or have they?

The seat selection was fine, but then I got to the part about checked baggage, where there were warnings of extra fees for not checking in online, excess baggage and the part about one 50 pound bag per person internationally. Also a note saying that excess baggage needed to be registered with NWA via phone prior to travel. This information was all available only after starting the check-in process, which is 24 hours prior to the flight.

Funny, my reservation said two 50 pound bags were allowed.

So I called Northwest. The agent (Asian woman, I'd guess) was very nice but said the baggage was only one bag; my reservation was wrong.

Secondly, I asked about the bicycle, which I'd called NWA about the week prior. I'd been told it was fine to just show up at the airport and the fees were $150-175 for the bicycle. The woman on the phone said she would check if I needed to have the bike noted prior to travel. When she returned to the line, she reported that the fee was actually $300 and that they'd changed in July. Northwest decided to double the fees.

My flight was $645 one way with all taxes, etc. So the baggage was half that? Insane.

I guess that is where the airlines are making their money these days, on random fees.

Once you get to the airport with too much luggage or the wrong size or wrong type, you are pretty much at their mercy. Do you toss that $1000 bicycle, or do you pay the $300? Fees for phone reservations, fees for check-in, fees for food. Shit, we should all be losing weight if we flew enough, right?

Well, the lady on the phone was very kind and appalled at the fees, which seem rather exorbitant, considering skis, golf clubs and other various sporting items still incur no excess baggage fees. She noted on my reservation the discrepancy in what I was told the week prior (those were the old charges) and apologised, saying that she hoped the check-in agent would be able to help me, as they were the ones who collect the fees.

I guess I am the point of what can I do? I have paid out about $2,000 in stupid fees in the last month. Ranging from locksmiths, to buyers concessions, to bike fees, to ?? At least I have a real job starting on Tuesday. And it's in a country where I can expand my mind with German practice.

This is why I choose to move overseas. I like to travel too much. It's bordering on addiction. However, I do not like to fly anymore. I never know what will go wrong next. What item have I packed that's deemed dangerous, excessive? Perhaps those sunglasses? The shoes? They have metal? Ok. Forget my craziness.

I have to finish my second beer so I can pass out and fall asleep.