Have You Found Yourself Camped Out

As a teenager, I found myself visiting the Atlanta Airport lots -- I had an inside contact who would phone to let me know when the celebrity groups were arriving. I managed to meet Peter & Gordon once and there were other celebrities I rushed to greet. I imagined how exciting it would be for me when I took my first flight. I imagined sitting in first class or the budget class, eating lunch on the plane and getting great service. How silly. That would never happen now. Gone are the days of hanging out at the airport, and gone are the days of special treatment -- now, it is more like camping out -- just to catch a plane to your destination.

Now that I am a travel writer, I have experienced camping out at the airport many times. Once, I left Des Moines Iowa on an early morning flight. Arriving in Atlanta, I sat at the Atlanta Airport awaiting my plane for over seventeen hours. When I arrived at Atlanta Airport, I rushed to the gate because my plane was scheduled to leave in twenty minutes. Rushing to the gate, I arrived, expecting to hop on the next plane to Charleston. That did not happen. The gate had changed and so off I went -- rushing to another gate -- expecting that I would miss my plane. Upon arrival at that gate, I was informed the plane hadn't arrived and it would probably be here at 7:20pm. I looked at my watch -- 6:45pm. So, I had time. I settled down in a chair, plopping my carry on luggage next to me. The wait began. At 7:20, we were informed our flight hadn't arrived again. And so the story goes. I waited. I chatted with other frustrated people. I watched children dancing around the gate, obviously restless and tired. I read a newspaper left by someone. Recognizing my own boredom, I reached for my Blackberry and I did something I detest. Text messaging. I am of the generation who believes a telephone is for conversations, not texting, but it is a great way to communicate -- if you prefer the language of RU there? LOL. And all of the other acronyms used in texting. Sometimes when I get a text, I have to decipher what is being shared in those abbreviations. Texting? No, not me. But on that night, since I was so tired and restless, I texted every friend I had in my cell phone.

7:20pm passed. The flight was changed to 8:45pm. And 9:15pm. 10:20pm. Enough of this. I approached the desk to inquire as to what was the delay. "We're waiting for the plane to arrive. If it doesn't arrive before 10:30 we will have to cancel until tomorrow morning. The Charleston Airport is under construction and flights are not allowed to land after midnight." Since I am a bit of a skeptic, I decided that my arrival home, to snuggle up in my bed probably would not happen tonight. Yes, it was a rainy night and I realized that storms such as a rainy night in Georgia create delays, but I was tired. I wanted to go home. I had been at the Atlanta Airport since 6:15. Charleston was only a five hour drive from Atlanta. I should've rented a car, I thought to myself, but then I remembered one piece of my luggage was on a plane. Just what plane was the question.

The clock continued ticking away. I watched two lovers smooching and touching. Young love, I thought to myself. How nice and sweet. An older gentleman was snoring two rows away from my seat. The life and times of camping out at the airport.

Seventeen hours after arriving at Atlanta Airport, my flight loaded. Finally I would get home to rest. When the plane finally landed in Charleston the rain was torrential. Awaiting my luggage at baggage claim I noticed many people complaining about how wet and heavy their luggage was. I was thankful my luggage was light, containing only three outfits. When I lifted it from baggage claim it felt as if it contained bricks! When I got home, I opened it, discovering everything inside was soaked! The luggage had been left outside on the tarmac and was filled with rain. Two blouses were faded and ruined. I contacted Delta only to be told, "Sorry for the inconvenience." So much for customer service and hospitality!

Last weekend a friend's husband was scheduled to leave Greensboro, NC in route to Nashville, TN. He left for the airport in ample time. His flight was scheduled to leave at 4:15, he entered the airport before 2pm. His flight was delayed due to weather, so he would arrive later than expected. My friend stayed in touch by checking the flight on Delta.com. and texting her husband. Each time she realized the flight was delayed she sent anothe text, and all during the day she phoned me to let me know of his delays. She knows I don't like to text! The phone is so much more convenient! Earlier in the week I suggested he might consider driving, instead of flying. My rule is if I can reach the destination within ten hours, I will drive. He spent the night camped out at the airport -- arriving in Nashville the next afternoon. No apologies from the airlines. No compensation. Nothing. Exhaused, my friend told me the next time he would drive to Nashville, not fly.

Years ago, flying was so convenient and quick. Didn't we have torrential storms in those years? And who would ever believe that you might actually 'camp out at the airport?' So much for flying. I think I'll drive, or take a train.