“7:10 AM tomorrow, Barcelona time, is the earliest flight to Philadelphia I see.”
“There’s nothing today? Not even to New York? I’m totally cool with flying to New York and driving home if it gets me home today.”
I’m on the phone with American Airlines. My flight home from Barcelona was cancelled due to weather in Philadelphia. I’ve been rebooked on three different flights and at this point I’m not even sure which flight I’m on.
So I spend an extra day in Barcelona. Luckily a couple coworkers are voluntarily staying a few days to explore the city. Tonight I’m crashing with them in their Airbnb.
“I’m sorry, everything in the area is being cancelled. There’s nothing.”
I’m tired, I miss my family, and I just want to go home. But it’s not in the cards. On top of it all, I can’t even check into my flight online.
The next day I get up at 4:30am. Everyone in the apartment is still asleep. As quietly as I can I pack up the few things left out last night and walk down to the street.
“Daniel?” the cab driver I pre-booked rolls up 5 minutes early and starts speaking Spanish to me.
I pick up a few words and realize he’s asking which airport terminal I’m flying from. I have no idea because I couldn’t check in so I take a guess. There’s only two terminals at BCN so I’ve got a 50/50 shot.
“Uno,” I tell him.
My guess is right and I get in line to check in to my flight. The line is long, presumably filled with all the other people who couldn’t check in online.
While my family is still asleep back home, I’m finally on my way.
