Escape From D.C.
Jul. 24th, 2007 07:41 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
ladyspriteAs I mentioned, I had several learning experiences at the conference I attended in D.C. I learned how to navigate the Metro, which is remarkably similar to the T here in Boston. I learned about ophthalmic drugs, and the latest advances in bunny anesthesia, and treatment for various forms of liver disease. And, most of all, I learned that I am never, ever flying to Our Nation's Capital again.
Getting there wasn't too difficult, aside from a minor miscommunication with my host about the expected date and time of my arrival. And navigating around during the week was easy enough, thanks to several extremely helpful friends. But apparently the area did not want me to leave, because every transportation mishap known to man managed to smack me in the face on my way home.
Granted, I had a tough route to travel. I had to take the metro back to my host's neighborhood, walk a mile and a half to her house to pick up my luggage, call a cab to take me back to the metro, take the metro to the bus, and then the bus to the airport. But it should have been manageable, and I allowed myself plenty of time for small mishaps. Making it back to the house with no trouble and a few hours to navigate, I called the cab company that my host assured me was speedy and reliable, and went outside to her front porch to wait.
Twenty minutes and no cab later, I called again. The person who answered put me on hold. Ten minutes later, someone picked up, asked me what my problem was, and put me on hold. The next person who answered informed me that they had no record of my initial call, and put me on hold. Eventually, someone took another request from me, and told me that they should have a cab for me in 20 minutes or so. I told them that this was not an option, and that they could get a cab there half an hour ago or pay for my flight rescheduling.
Twenty minutes later, the cab arrived. Luckily, the drive to the metro was short. Unluckily, I got to the station just in time to realize that, due to scheduled track maintenance, the trains were running at a significant delay. No problem, I thought to myself. I'm a calm, collected, rational individual. I'll just call Travelocity, since they're so customer-service oriented, and see if I can get myself switched to a later flight.
I called Travelocity. They took down the details of my problem, and said they were putting me on hold to transfer me to the rescheduling desk. They did, in fact, put me on hold. Fifteen minutes later my cell phone battery died, without anyone ever picking up.
The metro train finally did arrive, though, and I took a quick glance at the map to make sure of which station I was going to to pick up the bus. Station #1 had a little bus logo next to it, so I figured that was where I should go. Makes sense, right?
So I got to Station #1, went to the bus area, and asked the nice metro cop where I picked up the bus to the airport. He laughed at me, and informed me that that bus only picked up passengers at Station 2. I did my best not to burst into hysterics, and found a pay phone to call Travelocity again and inform them that there was no way in hell I could make my flight. I may have shouted at the drone on the other end of the phone just a little, and I admit I may have told him that if he put me on hold for more than 30 seconds that I would personally travel down the phone line to his desk and devour his soul. I don't quite remember, I was a bit distraught at that point. The drone on the phone eventually informed me that there was nothing that he could do, but that I should just go to the airline desk when and if I ever arrived. I accepted that, since the alternative was melting into a puddle on the sidewalk and dying, and shouldered my bags for another trip on the metro back to Station #2.
I took the train back to Station #2, now arriving there at approximately the same time that my plane was set to leave for Boston. I went to the bus waiting area, and completely failed to decipher the signs. No problem, I thought. I have had some time to collect my wits, and I am a calm, rational woman. And there is no problem that cannot be solved by lateral thinking. I will just ditch this whole public transportation plan, and take a taxi. I meandered over to the taxi stand, got in a cab, and asked for a ride to the airport. Two blocks later, the driver elected to inform me that it would take about an hour, and cost upwards of $70. My calm flew out the window along with any semblance of control, and I asked him to take me back to the metro station so I could yell at someone in command until they fixed everything for me. Which he did, and I did.
Luckily, the Nice Metro Cop at Station #2 was apparently trained in disaster management, because when he told me that the airport bus in fact only went to Station #3, I became moderately perturbed. Even more luckily, at that same moment, a local friend happened to show up, and kindly allowed me to vent at him at great length and volume while the Nice Metro Cop put together a handful of maps, bus schedules, and proof that in fact he was not sending me on another wild goose chase. The friend volunteered to call my husband and inform him of the situation, the metro cop gave me a free pass to Station #3, and I quietly sniveled my way back onto the train.
Third try, and finally lucky. I got to Station #3, got a bus transfer, and found the airport shuttle sitting in the bus parking area. I got on the bus. I sat down. The driver informed me that the bus would be heading out.... in half an hour. And that it was a half hour ride. I collapsed in uncontrollable giggles, much to the confusion of the other passengers. When I explained the events so far, the girl sitting next to me informed me that if the bus got a flat tire, she was throwing me out the window.
But eventually the bus set out, and even more eventually we reached the airport. I grabbed my suitcases, which seemed to be getting heavier by the minute, and wandered into the Departures terminal. With the complete lack of help of a very surly aide, I eventually found the check-in area for my airline.....
....only to find that my flight had been canceled anyway.
"No problem," said the kid checking me in. "We'll reschedule you onto the 6:30 flight!"
"Um..... it's 7:15."
That seemed to stump him, and it took at least one call to a supervisor to figure out that he could put me on standby for the 8pm flight. Once that was arranged and my bags were checked, though, I sat down in the hall to plug in my cell phone, call my husband, and update him on my flight info.
Or, at least, I would have. If I hadn't realized that my cell phone charger was in my checked bag.
Thankfully, DC tourists are much friendlier than DC airport aides, and a Very Nice Lady let me borrow her phone. So, blessedly, my dear and patient husband did in fact make it to Logan Airport to pick me up, because by some small miracle I actually made it onto the 8pm flight, and it actually left on time, and now that I am finally home and in one piece I am seriously considering never, ever leaving again.....
Getting there wasn't too difficult, aside from a minor miscommunication with my host about the expected date and time of my arrival. And navigating around during the week was easy enough, thanks to several extremely helpful friends. But apparently the area did not want me to leave, because every transportation mishap known to man managed to smack me in the face on my way home.
Granted, I had a tough route to travel. I had to take the metro back to my host's neighborhood, walk a mile and a half to her house to pick up my luggage, call a cab to take me back to the metro, take the metro to the bus, and then the bus to the airport. But it should have been manageable, and I allowed myself plenty of time for small mishaps. Making it back to the house with no trouble and a few hours to navigate, I called the cab company that my host assured me was speedy and reliable, and went outside to her front porch to wait.
Twenty minutes and no cab later, I called again. The person who answered put me on hold. Ten minutes later, someone picked up, asked me what my problem was, and put me on hold. The next person who answered informed me that they had no record of my initial call, and put me on hold. Eventually, someone took another request from me, and told me that they should have a cab for me in 20 minutes or so. I told them that this was not an option, and that they could get a cab there half an hour ago or pay for my flight rescheduling.
Twenty minutes later, the cab arrived. Luckily, the drive to the metro was short. Unluckily, I got to the station just in time to realize that, due to scheduled track maintenance, the trains were running at a significant delay. No problem, I thought to myself. I'm a calm, collected, rational individual. I'll just call Travelocity, since they're so customer-service oriented, and see if I can get myself switched to a later flight.
I called Travelocity. They took down the details of my problem, and said they were putting me on hold to transfer me to the rescheduling desk. They did, in fact, put me on hold. Fifteen minutes later my cell phone battery died, without anyone ever picking up.
The metro train finally did arrive, though, and I took a quick glance at the map to make sure of which station I was going to to pick up the bus. Station #1 had a little bus logo next to it, so I figured that was where I should go. Makes sense, right?
So I got to Station #1, went to the bus area, and asked the nice metro cop where I picked up the bus to the airport. He laughed at me, and informed me that that bus only picked up passengers at Station 2. I did my best not to burst into hysterics, and found a pay phone to call Travelocity again and inform them that there was no way in hell I could make my flight. I may have shouted at the drone on the other end of the phone just a little, and I admit I may have told him that if he put me on hold for more than 30 seconds that I would personally travel down the phone line to his desk and devour his soul. I don't quite remember, I was a bit distraught at that point. The drone on the phone eventually informed me that there was nothing that he could do, but that I should just go to the airline desk when and if I ever arrived. I accepted that, since the alternative was melting into a puddle on the sidewalk and dying, and shouldered my bags for another trip on the metro back to Station #2.
I took the train back to Station #2, now arriving there at approximately the same time that my plane was set to leave for Boston. I went to the bus waiting area, and completely failed to decipher the signs. No problem, I thought. I have had some time to collect my wits, and I am a calm, rational woman. And there is no problem that cannot be solved by lateral thinking. I will just ditch this whole public transportation plan, and take a taxi. I meandered over to the taxi stand, got in a cab, and asked for a ride to the airport. Two blocks later, the driver elected to inform me that it would take about an hour, and cost upwards of $70. My calm flew out the window along with any semblance of control, and I asked him to take me back to the metro station so I could yell at someone in command until they fixed everything for me. Which he did, and I did.
Luckily, the Nice Metro Cop at Station #2 was apparently trained in disaster management, because when he told me that the airport bus in fact only went to Station #3, I became moderately perturbed. Even more luckily, at that same moment, a local friend happened to show up, and kindly allowed me to vent at him at great length and volume while the Nice Metro Cop put together a handful of maps, bus schedules, and proof that in fact he was not sending me on another wild goose chase. The friend volunteered to call my husband and inform him of the situation, the metro cop gave me a free pass to Station #3, and I quietly sniveled my way back onto the train.
Third try, and finally lucky. I got to Station #3, got a bus transfer, and found the airport shuttle sitting in the bus parking area. I got on the bus. I sat down. The driver informed me that the bus would be heading out.... in half an hour. And that it was a half hour ride. I collapsed in uncontrollable giggles, much to the confusion of the other passengers. When I explained the events so far, the girl sitting next to me informed me that if the bus got a flat tire, she was throwing me out the window.
But eventually the bus set out, and even more eventually we reached the airport. I grabbed my suitcases, which seemed to be getting heavier by the minute, and wandered into the Departures terminal. With the complete lack of help of a very surly aide, I eventually found the check-in area for my airline.....
....only to find that my flight had been canceled anyway.
"No problem," said the kid checking me in. "We'll reschedule you onto the 6:30 flight!"
"Um..... it's 7:15."
That seemed to stump him, and it took at least one call to a supervisor to figure out that he could put me on standby for the 8pm flight. Once that was arranged and my bags were checked, though, I sat down in the hall to plug in my cell phone, call my husband, and update him on my flight info.
Or, at least, I would have. If I hadn't realized that my cell phone charger was in my checked bag.
Thankfully, DC tourists are much friendlier than DC airport aides, and a Very Nice Lady let me borrow her phone. So, blessedly, my dear and patient husband did in fact make it to Logan Airport to pick me up, because by some small miracle I actually made it onto the 8pm flight, and it actually left on time, and now that I am finally home and in one piece I am seriously considering never, ever leaving again.....
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no subject
Date: 2007-07-24 12:35 pm (UTC)I do expense reports for the boss, so I never would consider taking a cab to most of the airports. I don't think I have even seen one for under $40. I swear they are price gouging, but I don't drive so what do I really know?
At least you are back and in mostly one piece!
no subject
Date: 2007-07-24 02:44 pm (UTC)Anywhere from $25 to $50 seems to be the going rate, so I'd say the $70
no subject
Date: 2007-07-24 04:19 pm (UTC)Public transit in DC suffers from a serious case of "If you're from here, you know already how it works, and if you're not from here, to hell with you." The little bus logos just indicate where the Metro stations also have stops for Metrobus, and the airport shuttle buses are a sick, sick joke. If you're flying out of DC, either take the commuter train to BWI, or take the Metro to Reagan National; only fly out of Dulles if you're taking an airport shuttle bus, or you live in Northern Virginia and plan to take out a second mortgage to pay for airport parking.
God forbid the folks at Metro tell you all this, though. Customer service is spotty at best, as shown by this example, and Metro shows no signs of wanting to change it.
no subject
Date: 2007-07-25 05:04 am (UTC)Dulles was actually not too far from where she was staying during the week, and she would have had a pretty easy time of it. :-(
no subject
Date: 2007-07-24 01:17 pm (UTC)If I'd known DC taxis were involved anywhere in your travel plans, I would have warned you about them. :(
Though it sounds like you really got the worst of the worst of the worst. MEH! I'm so sorry!
no subject
Date: 2007-07-24 01:53 pm (UTC)Ah well, you're home now.
no subject
Date: 2007-07-24 03:09 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-07-24 04:47 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-07-24 06:30 pm (UTC)In case you find yourself needing (or even wanting) to visit the DC area again, I've got a few suggestions:
1) Take
2) Fly into and out of Reagan International. Right on the Metro. (Finding el-cheapo flights might be tricky, but it might be a wash if you add in cab fare from Dulles.)
3) Fly into and out of BWI. Direct shuttle bus from the airport to the train station, then you can pick MTA or Amtrak to Union Station in DC.
I haven't tried option one yet, but I have tried the others (as well as having flown into Dulles). Unless I could expense cab fare, I probably won't do Dulles again; it's way the heck out in the middle of nowhere, without any direct connections downtown.
no subject
Date: 2007-07-24 07:09 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-07-24 08:38 pm (UTC)Much sympathy, glad you got back in one piece.
(I'll stop laughing soon)
no subject
Date: 2007-07-25 05:05 am (UTC)