Getting Home

A month ago I went to the the University of Hull with my colleague Katie Valenti. We were there for two days of meetings about Sakai. After two days, we were supposed to go home. Katie actually did. Me, well I have a different story.

The morning was going great. I got up at 7:30am. I had a shower, was packed, had plenty of time. I even got on and checked email and a bit of news. I packed away my laptop, my DSLR camera, all the books and magazines I would need for the plane, were put into my carry-on backpack. I got out of my room at 8:20, destined for meeting up with Katie at 8:30am in the lobby.

I got checked out of my room and met Katie, we were off to the train station. There were two trains leaving for the airport, very close together. We tried to make the first one but the doors were locked. So we took the second one. This was, in my opinion, the beginning of the problem.

The train we got on, did indeed go to the airport. But it was different then the one we had on the flight in. This train, today, stopped at every little station between Manchester-Piccadilly and the airport. I mention this, because the one we had on the trip in, had no stops between Manchester-Piccadilly and the airport. So, you can understand our nervousness. This was worse, when they stopped announcing the stops. A couple of stops they did not announce, we were able to see the sign that said what the stop was. Then came a stop, no announcement and no sign. We were wondering if this was us or not. It did not look familiar. So, I got out of my seat and poked my head out the door. I had intended to just confirm the stop name and get back in my seat. I saw a sign for "departures". Now, I wasn't positive this was the airport stop, and all previous stops had been hit-and-run stops, the train was never there for more then 30-60 seconds. So I didn't think we had much time. I told Katie, "we better get off here, I think this is it, but even if it's not, we can catch the next train. But if this is our stop and we stay on the train, we could be in a mess." So we grabbed our luggage by the door and got off the train.

We found our way towards the exit (or "Way out" in UK terms). By the time we got to the exit, we confirmed this was the right stop. We were now on our way to the terminal. As we got towards the moving walkways and headed towards the terminal, it was probably only about 9am. Conversation was light, as I told Katie, I had not had a diet pepsi since, 5:00am on Sunday. Then, I realized something. I did not have my backpack. I had left it on the train. I turned around and sprinted for the train. The escalator down to the next level was broke and I had to wait for the elevator (or "Lift" if you prefer). I got to the final staircase, which at the airport station they check your ticket. Thankfully the British are so damn polite, that when I told her I had just left my bag on the train, she simply said "oh, ok, go on ahead then". I left my suitcase with Katie and sprinted down to the train. It was gone.

My last hope was, that maybe during a 'sweep' of the train, they had found it and put it in lost luggage. So I tried to find someone who worked there. I found someone, and told him my problem. He and another person tried to determine which train I was on. Once that was settled, he got on the phone. Unfortunately the train had already passed the one station where he thought they could search it at. I would now have to wait until it reached Manchester Piccadilly at 9:33. My new friend, the train staff employee, told me that the train would arrive at 9:33 and that they would search it about 9:40. If they found it, they would put it back on the next train and that would get here at 10:15.

So at this point, I had two choices. Well only one reasonable one. I could count the bag as lost and make my flight, or I could wait to see if they found the bag. If I waited and they did NOT find tht bag, then I would probably still make my flight. If they DID find it, then there was a good chance I would miss my flight. Well, miss in the sense of not getting there early enough to be allowed on. Stupid security regulations....

Anyway, I didn't think very long, I went back up and told Katie to go on ahead. I took my luggage, and said I would rather miss the flight and get my backpack back. The time was around 9:15-9:20am. I went back down and camped out by the train-staff office. The wait was terrible. It was as cold out as I have felt this entire trip. I tried to read some. Luckily this book takes no brain power, so I got through a chapter. Not wanting to finish the book too early, I stopped reading after that, and started pacing around 9:30am.

I don't remember which thing happened first, but let me build the suspense and tell you first about a gentleman who then approached me. He had a thick accent that did not see to be from the UK or USA. He had a foreign look to him, although I don't really have a guess where he was from. I had noticed him pacing for the last 5-10 minutes as well. He seemed somewhat embarrassed to have to ask me anything. But he did. He said he was attending a business meeting but had forgotten how to tie his Tie. He wondered if I could help him out. I was waiting anyway, and I offered to try. He was wearing one of those dress shirts that have the buttons on the collar. So it was not really easy to take the tie off, and tie it on my neck first. I had to try to tie it on him. You lady's will probably not realize this, but trying to tie a tie on someone else, is INCREDIBLY different then tie'ing one on yourself. Anyway, I gave it a try. I would not count it as my best job ever, but I did get him something that approached a valid knot. He thanked me and finally went to wait by the track where his train would be coming. He stopped pacing.

Anyway, it must have been after that, that I learned of the results of the search at Machester Piccadilly (although it could have happened in the reverse). So, at 9:35 or so, I think, I learned they *HAD* found my bag. Great! That's somewhere on the order of $5000.00 in recovered property. My train staff friend, told me the bag would be coming on the train, scheduled to arrive at 10:11am on track 1A. I had another 30 minutes to wait.

At this point, I am a mixed bag of emotions. I'm elated that my backpack was found and recovered, but now I've moved on to worrying about my flight that leaves at 11am. A train pulls into the station around 10:00am. I almost cheer, it's early. I do notice the color is different though. I check the display. Wrong train. I'm still waiting. This wrong train takes off about 10:07am. Around 10:10am I see another train down the tracks. I cheer for it to turn on to the '1' track rather then the '2' track. It does! Yeah. The train pulls in to stop '1A'. I look for my friend. He notices the train has pulled in and puts in a bit quicker walk for me then he normally would use (I know, because I've now been hanging around for an hour on this station). The gets to the back of the train and recovers my bag and hands it off to me. The person in the train jokes about how heavy my bag is. I thank both of them, shake my friend's hand, and rush to try to make my flight. It's around 10:11am when I take off.

I make it to the US Airways counter by 10:20am. I see the sign that says boarding begins at 10:15am. I figure, ok, I'll just have to carry my bag on. Nope. I'm out of luck. I guess the security procedures require the UK airports to send the passenger list well in advance. So, they mention the latest you can check in for a flight leaving to the US is 1 hour before it's scheduled to leave. They can't do anything for me on the British end, because it's an American rule.

Now I don't know if it would have change anything up to this point, but I also learn (I probably knew this when I booked the original flight), that there is only one flight that leaves Manchester for the US, per day. The one I had just missed. So, I get rebooked on the US Airways flight for 11am on Friday. I then set out in search of Delta, who has a 12-noon flight out. The flight on Delta would be 600 pounds. Now, that I've recovered my backpack, I have my passport. I have to weigh what the costs are. I know a hotel is going to cost me around 100-150 pounds for the night. So, is it really worth the extra 500 pounds, $1000 dollars, to take the Delta flight. It's also worth mentioning that Delta could not book me on any flight to phoenix for Thursday, they could only get me as far as Atlanta.

I also checked Continental. Their flight was scheduled to leave at 11:20am and it was around 10:25 at that point. So, basically I had probably missed, it, but they could check. I asked them the price, before they did. Same deal. Around 500-600 pounds.

So, I am now at the Radisson Airport hotel (picture taken from the hotel room with my recovered camera). There are no trains, taxis, or any kind of transportation between me and the airport check-in. I refuse to leave sight of my luggage, I'm still a little stunned at all of the events of today.

By the way, remember the first train we missed? I'm pretty sure that train was a Transpennine Express train that is direct. The train we were on, was called a "CREW" (or something) train by my friend. The main way they identified the train we were on, was saying that it made all these little stops. Because the other train we 'could' have been on, was direct.

Had we been on a direct train, I would never have tried to stick my head out and check for the stop name. It was this one detail, of not expecting to get off, then rushing at the last minute TO get off, that caused me to leave my bag. Had we made that first train, it would have been direct, there would have been no doubt which stop we were at, and I wouldn't have forgot my bag. Oh well.

The good news is the next day, I was able to make it home normally. I'm thankful for the time I had to spend at Hull and extremely grateful that I got home with all my stuff.

---- Cris J H