We flew out of San Francisco airport on Wednesday morning, back to Vancouver (YVR) to take our KLM flight via Amsterdam, to Bristol.
We had a lovely sunny day in Vancouver waiting for our flight. All was going well and the flight was boarding on time when an announcement was made.....
Our flight was un-boarding due to the volcano which had erupted in Iceland. The ash from the volcano had stopped any planes from flying as when it cools it forms rocks and this would obviously damage the engines.
We did not know if we would be flying or not so we had to wait for an hour whilst the powers that be decided.
To our relief we were allowed to fly an hour later, and we underwent an extended flying time of 10 and half hours as we had to go the long way round, avoiding Iceland. We didn't know if we would be landing in Paris, Brussels or Amsterdam.
On arrival at Amsterdam and after much back patting for getting to the correct destination, our hopes of a connecting flight to Bristol were dashed. We were the last plane allowed to land and from that time on, the whole of Europe's airspace was closed!
Those of us with connecting flights, which lets face it was most of us, were ushered to T6 where we would be told what we needed to do and all would be good. Or so we thought.
The airport staff didn't know what to do, and it quickly became apparent that alternative flights were not an option. We were given vouchers and bottles of water and after much persuasion one by one we left the safety and familiarity of T6 to go and use our own initiative to make ourselves comfortable for the duration of the wait.
It was about 9 pm by this time.
Naively, not realising that we were the last plane in and therefore not the first to be in this position, we headed straight to the onsite airport hotels to see if we could get a room for the night. The problem would then surely be sorted out by the morning.
There was no room at the inn, so whipping out our laptops we congratulated each other on our cunning whilst googling the airport hotels in the area,.... full, Amsterdam,... full. Oh... perhaps we should go back to the T6 zone and see what else we should do.
So with our trolleys to push around our considerable hand luggage, we trudged back to the T6 zone, passing curiously abandoned information desks. There was still a crowd harassing the few brave KLM staff who had stayed around, their only defence was to hand out more vouchers for food. So off we went to spend some of the voucers.
After locating a cafe which would accept the vouchers, we ate our first of many cheese salad rolls and a cup of tea. That was 20 euro gone, we only had one more voucher for 10 euro left. Then Tracy's earwigging skills got us knowledge of a plan to supply camp beds and blankets in another zone of the airport and we were to position ourselves in Lounge 3, so off we went to await the announcement. We managed to speak to Della's Dad on Skype who knew all about the situation and had managed to re-book us on the next available flight........ on Monday! Good old Dad, we now had a back up plan if our alternative more cunning plan didn't work, ie the ferry or the train. (both of which we soon found out were..... you guest it... fully booked).
We waited and waited for the announcement for beds, but none came. Tracy once again averted me trying to curl up on a McDonalds' table by noticing a huge wave of bodies and trolleys surging through the concourse with a purposeful look in their eyes. Beds. We followed the surge and were rewarded, after having to go through security into a "clean zone"(European passport holders only, "too much paperwork for the non-Europeans to have to fill out"), with beds.
Like refugees you see on the telly every day, we were issued with a blanket, a bottle of water and some bread! we picked a spot for our beds, we had few requirements, the spot had to be quiet, no snorers, no children, no bright lights, no recorded message, "please mind your step" no toilets right by us and an electrical socket to re-charge our laptops. Not much to ask!
Our flight was un-boarding due to the volcano which had erupted in Iceland. The ash from the volcano had stopped any planes from flying as when it cools it forms rocks and this would obviously damage the engines.
We did not know if we would be flying or not so we had to wait for an hour whilst the powers that be decided.
To our relief we were allowed to fly an hour later, and we underwent an extended flying time of 10 and half hours as we had to go the long way round, avoiding Iceland. We didn't know if we would be landing in Paris, Brussels or Amsterdam.
On arrival at Amsterdam and after much back patting for getting to the correct destination, our hopes of a connecting flight to Bristol were dashed. We were the last plane allowed to land and from that time on, the whole of Europe's airspace was closed!
Those of us with connecting flights, which lets face it was most of us, were ushered to T6 where we would be told what we needed to do and all would be good. Or so we thought.
The airport staff didn't know what to do, and it quickly became apparent that alternative flights were not an option. We were given vouchers and bottles of water and after much persuasion one by one we left the safety and familiarity of T6 to go and use our own initiative to make ourselves comfortable for the duration of the wait.
It was about 9 pm by this time.
Naively, not realising that we were the last plane in and therefore not the first to be in this position, we headed straight to the onsite airport hotels to see if we could get a room for the night. The problem would then surely be sorted out by the morning.
There was no room at the inn, so whipping out our laptops we congratulated each other on our cunning whilst googling the airport hotels in the area,.... full, Amsterdam,... full. Oh... perhaps we should go back to the T6 zone and see what else we should do.
So with our trolleys to push around our considerable hand luggage, we trudged back to the T6 zone, passing curiously abandoned information desks. There was still a crowd harassing the few brave KLM staff who had stayed around, their only defence was to hand out more vouchers for food. So off we went to spend some of the voucers.
After locating a cafe which would accept the vouchers, we ate our first of many cheese salad rolls and a cup of tea. That was 20 euro gone, we only had one more voucher for 10 euro left. Then Tracy's earwigging skills got us knowledge of a plan to supply camp beds and blankets in another zone of the airport and we were to position ourselves in Lounge 3, so off we went to await the announcement. We managed to speak to Della's Dad on Skype who knew all about the situation and had managed to re-book us on the next available flight........ on Monday! Good old Dad, we now had a back up plan if our alternative more cunning plan didn't work, ie the ferry or the train. (both of which we soon found out were..... you guest it... fully booked).
We waited and waited for the announcement for beds, but none came. Tracy once again averted me trying to curl up on a McDonalds' table by noticing a huge wave of bodies and trolleys surging through the concourse with a purposeful look in their eyes. Beds. We followed the surge and were rewarded, after having to go through security into a "clean zone"(European passport holders only, "too much paperwork for the non-Europeans to have to fill out"), with beds.
Like refugees you see on the telly every day, we were issued with a blanket, a bottle of water and some bread! we picked a spot for our beds, we had few requirements, the spot had to be quiet, no snorers, no children, no bright lights, no recorded message, "please mind your step" no toilets right by us and an electrical socket to re-charge our laptops. Not much to ask!
Needless to say we got a bed but we had to compromise on our other 'requirements'.
There was no 'Dunkirk Spirit' at this stage of the proceedings, just lots of snoring. We did manage to get some sleep, but the cold and the jet lag finally got the better of us and we surrendered our beds to a couple who had been hovering to see if we might be leaving so they could lie down for a while, obviously the 3000 beds provided didn't quite cater for everyone.
There was no 'Dunkirk Spirit' at this stage of the proceedings, just lots of snoring. We did manage to get some sleep, but the cold and the jet lag finally got the better of us and we surrendered our beds to a couple who had been hovering to see if we might be leaving so they could lie down for a while, obviously the 3000 beds provided didn't quite cater for everyone.
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