We've paid the hotel our three Euros each for the airport shuttle and at 5:30 am we enter a tiny hotel van with another couple to be driven quickly to Terminal 2. When asked, our driver explains he doesn't stop at Terminal 1 but it's easy to walk there. The walk takes us nearly 10 minutes and it's mildly annoying to have to pay for the shuttle but not be delivered to one's own terminal.
Our exit Immigration proves to be an interesting experience. There is no line but the Czech inspectors take intense interest in our passports, and the fact they can't find exit stamps from our visit to Portugal back in November.
They inform us that one is only allowed to stay within the EU's Schengen Zone 90 days within any 180 days. They thumb through the pages repeatedly, looking for proof we departed and continuing to politely but firmly interrogate us. They ask to see boarding passes for flights in November and January, which we are able to produce.
We point out to the inspectors we did indeed exit Portugal on a transatlantic cruise in November, and also visited Italy in January without incident. We're reduced to showing them our TripIt app itinerary for that trip, and photos on our blog showing the two of us aboard the ship.
We explain courteously tbat it's surely the responsibility of the authorities to properly stamp our passports. With all of the electronic gates, there seems to be a lot less stamping of passports these days. Let's face it. We may be geezers but we're still a suspicious pair. "Why do they travel so much?"
Eventually they seem to realize we're most likely not international criminals, give up the hunt, stamp our passports, and release the little gate allowing us to proceed, but it was a long 20 minutes, with visions of being detained until Portuguese authorities would confirm we did indeed depart Portugal on Oceania's Marina last November 15.
We drink our first coffee of the day in a rather sterile PRG contract lounge before boarding our BA flight for a 7:40 am departure. The A321 is as cramped as usual, but it's manageable for a two-hour flight. We land at LHR in good time - at a remote gate. That means we have to take buses to the terminal but there are no buses available. After 20 or 25 minutes one bus rolls us up. Since we're seated at the front we get to board it and lurch our way to Terminal 3.
Once there and through FastTrack security (which Brian privately refers to as Half-Fast Track security), we proceed with anticipation to the Cathay Pacific Lounge. Alas, they politely tell us there won't be room in the First Class Lounge until Cathay Pacific passengers have boarded two flights. Fair enough. No fancy table dining for us this morning. We're welcomed into the quite pleasant Business Class Lounge and console ourselves with delicious bowls of Won Ton soup and Dan Dan noodles.
There's no queue for the bus transfer to Terminal 5. After the 10-minute ride we go through security for the second time and Kathy gets to undergo a "random" pat-down. Her bag is diverted for further inspection for no reason that we can tell, while Brian gets treated to a mild massage after going through the MMW machine.
Our BA flight to Philadelphia on an A350 is bumpy at times but pleasant enough. The entertainment system is down but on the third reset the flight attendants manage to get it working again. We're somewhat underwhelmed by our cuisine choices for lunch, some sort of shepherd's pie, a cod dish, and a vegan pasta.
We choose the pasta and it's decent. It's less than a seven-hour flight so we don't feel very tired when we land, despite the early start to our day.
We have Dante, the same friendly shuttle driver to the PHL Airport Holiday Inn as we did on our outward bound trip, and we bring him up to date on what we saw in Prague and Vienna.
The hotel's restaurant is closed, but an old-fashioned diner sits across the street. The Reuben and corned beef sandwiches don't compare to our own, but the quantities are immense, and neither of us can manage more than half of our serving.
We have a reasonable sleep and eat breakfast in the same diner, mainly to kill time, with better results.
We're granted a 2:00 pm checkout and hang out in a United Lounge (in an agreement with Alaska) until we board for our 6:40 pm departure.
We're seated in Premium Economy and enjoy free WiFi, courtesy of our T-Mobile cell phone plans. We dine on the pretzel sliders. They're messy and may not be worth the trouble.
With about an hour left in the nearly six-hour flight, we get a message that our flight to Bellingham has been canceled. So is this is what fate has been giving us little hints about all day.
Kathy sees that she's been reassigned to the afternoon flight the following day, while Brian is assigned to a flight two days later, despite our itineraries being linked. Once landed, we enter the North Satellite Alaska Lounge, where the friendly employees sympathize but can't help. Over the next couple of hours we talk to Alaska reps Sam in Texas, Asia in Anchorage, and Lori in Phoenix.
One of the agents confirms it's a mechanical problem, meaning Alaska bears responsibilities to provide us with compensation, including food and lodging. Our first goal is to get ourselves on the same flight on the same day. In the course of our conversations, we learn something that makes us laugh. Because we'd been upgraded to first for that final SEA-BLI leg, the Alaska computer was looking only for first class space on replacement flights and couldn't book us seats together. All this fuss over a flight on an RJ 175 that's in the air for a bit over 25 minutes. We finally get seats, Kathy in row 6 and Brian in the last row, on Monday's afternoon flight.
At this point it's nearing Midnight and there are 10-14 people in line ahead of us at the C gates customer service counter.
Alaska rep Lori in Phoenix confirms we can simply book our own hotel and request reimbursement, so off we go to the Hilton across the street to experience the nostalgia of 70s decor.
After a few hours of sleep, Kathy sees there are now two seats open on the morning flight. We talk to Susie in Boise who changes us to that flight. Back at the airport, in the TSA PreCheck line Brian gets "randomly selected" for inspection and has to pose in one of the millimeter-wave machines. At least the TSA hid those infernal X-Ray contraptions away in government warehouses years ago.
At the same time, the Hungarian paprika we bought in Vienna and packed in Kathy's suitcase draws official attention and inspection ("It looked like yogurt"). Fortunately for us, paprika, unlike yogurt, is not considered a threat, so after a friendly chat with the TSA employee (he asks why the paprika is so red and Kathy explains it’s because it’s fresh) we proceed to the Alaska lounge for a Cappucino prior to boarding.
Ironically, we're both upgraded to First on the RJ 175. As we sit at the gate, the pilot tells us there's an "issue" and he has to shut everything down. Oh my! We sit in silence for a few minutes, wondering how jinxed we are. Fortunately, the engines start up, and the pilot explains that the previous crew failed to delete their flight plan from the onboard computer. Our crew had to basically reboot and start over. We’re finally off!
We land late, but we’re happy to be home with the various and even strange incidents of the past couple of days receding in the rear view mirror.
In a postscript, we call Alaska's customer care line the next day to find out where to send our hotel invoice for reimbursement and Roberto emails us $450 worth of compensation in travel vouchers. We almost feel guilty accepting it but we do.
All's well that ends well.
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