Showing posts with label American Airlines. Show all posts
Showing posts with label American Airlines. Show all posts

Wednesday, January 14, 2015

Kiss Me Guido, I Mean Quito

0 comments

It seems we are the new wake up service for roosters, being up before they have a chance to clear their throats with the first crow of the day. To add to my exhaustion, when the sandman was trying to knock me out, there was the nightmare man forcing his way into my mind. I had fears that the itinerary would not be valid once they looked us up in the computer. Nightmares continued that we would be stuck in Miami indefinitely.

At Miami International, the ticket counters open three hours before flights. We were first in line and my nerves were soothed when the ticketing woman manipulated the computer to spit out our boarding passes and luggage tags. She was warm and friendly for such an early hour. With much gratitude, we said out good-byes.


I have already shared the decision to rule out Diner’s Club lounge this time around. We went directly to the gate where there was a restaurant for coffees. Ron stopped at a newsstand to buy a bottle of water and a newspaper for a total of $8.59. Welcome to America.


This flight from Miami to Quito was on American Airlines, but a code share with LanEcuador. This was initially disappointing, but it turned out to be great service. Sure, you had to buy earphones if you wanted to watch the movie, one we had seen, but the breakfast was plentiful and more than edible. This flight is three hours and 50 minutes.


We were sitting there, welcoming the fact that we are really getting to Ecuador, when a thought creeps into my mind. We were never given stubs to identify our luggage. After checking our boarding passes, passports, and other stubs of information clogging pockets and backpack nooks, there was nothing to help us identify our luggage if needed, but more importantly, to file a claim if it were lost. These thoughts haunted me through the flight, only sabotaged occasionally with reading briefly from the novel I had at hand.


After landing, my first instinct was to kiss the ground. Flying in, the scenery is breathtakingly beautiful. My motivation was that we made it and not hostages in Miami. The time in Miami did get us in mental shape again for South America. No one in the airport spoke English to us until we asked.
Once deplaned, you of course go through Passport Control first thing. The striking difference was that the line moved quickly and each control agent was smiling. Waiting for the luggage took on new meaning for the word forever. Finally and thankfully, our two small pieces of luggage emerged on the conveyor belt. These had to pass through Customs, which is a sporadic event. A control office presses a button as each person approaches and a light determines whether you proceed to the X-ray machine or get a free pass. Ron had his things X-rayed.


We lost out on our hotel from last night; the cost was not retrievable. While I had luggage sitting duty, Ron went to the information booth to get hotel information. We discovered, our original ‘airport hotel’ was 45 minutes away and would have cost about $30 for a taxi going and then returning tomorrow morning. The information had other options, but the first one they suggested was full. Another of their suggestions not only had a room, but also had free shuttle service.


 A taxi arrived to get us and proceeded to drive us for 35 minutes before we parked at a hotel on a busy highway in a section of a Quito suburb that resembled a strip mall. The place was immaculately clean and the room had double beds with contemporary comforter covers. Wi-Fi was available, though more reliable in the upper lobby than in the room. The bathroom had the old-fashioned electric hot water heater. It was more than adequate and considering the taxi returning to the airport was also included, it was really a bargain.


Traipsing in and out of dusty roads that made up this little town, once we crossed the busy highway, we were pleasantly surprised. It rated the level of “adorable” considering we were only there for one night. Everyone around was friendly toward us. Schoolchildren stared; this must have been their first Gringo sightings.


Of course, there was a church in the center of the town; of course, the doors were open; of course, we went in. Inundated with gold on the altar, it was in sharp contrast to the plain planks of wood that made up the floor throughout. Almost obliterating the altar were vases of flowers. The primary choice was roses, but other species did get their due as well. In a side chapel, there were enough flower arrangements to mistake the room for a funeral parlor or florist supplier. No dead person was in attendance, so the spectacle had to be for the Jesus statue behind the gilded gold altar. Well, on second thought there was a dead person in attendance.


We had dinner at a small restaurant a couple of blocks away from the church. We split a half-chicken dinner, but the woman started each of us with a bowl of chicken soup. It was not totally unexpected when a spoonful produced a chicken foot. This was not our first time on an Ecuadorian chicken soup rodeo, not that I found it more pleasant this time. Chicken portions were massive. I would have hated to be the one to wrestle that chicken to his death. Additionally, there was a plate of rice and French fries that could have fed two villages in Africa. Left behind after we paid the bill for $8 was still too much food. The bill included two large bottles of beer.


Returning to the hotel, we were both ready to collapse. We had not had a decent night’s sleep in three days having to get up in the middle of the night to go to an airport. Only naps on planes do not constitute sleep. However, sleep for me was evasive once again as the nightmare man managed to get through our locked room. Visions of LAN Ecuador Airlines rejecting my suitcase as too large promoted my primary fear. Not to be outdone, there had to be a secondary fear, which was that they would also reject my backpack filled with technological items.


Readied for 4am, the alarm and a wakeup call were promises for another night of unrest.

Pin It Now!

Tuesday, January 13, 2015

Get a Room! We Are Trying...

0 comments

We watched the hotel shuttles pass us by like marathon runners, hoping to find one associated with what we thought would be a reasonably priced hotel. One of the locals suggested Airway or some other, but after 30 minutes, their shuttles never appeared.  The driver for Red Roof Motel did not speak English, so could not answer whether or not we could be a walk-in. Their loss. We ended up at Clarion, a bit more than we would have liked.

We paid $154 for our one night. That really grinds me. I was on Skype with American Express Travel as I booked these tickets thru them. I thought I had trip cancellation insurance with my credit cards. It turns out they discontinued that insurance two years ago. They did call TAP to see if they could resolve anything, but it was a failed attempt. TAP offices were closed.

Calling Hotels.com to try to salvage our Quito reservation was a waste of good time. I spent 25 minutes listening to their awful music, but no rep ever came online. We called the hotel in Quito, though paid in full; they denied having a reservation for us at all. I also called CheapoAir to see what could be done about our Quito to Cuenca flight. Sure, it can be changed for a penalty of $160. This was the original ticket price; so in essence, we bought the same ticket again.

Exhausted, depressed, and surprising in need of protein, we went downstairs to the hotel cafeteria. The meatloaf was comfort food; unexpectedly, it was delicious and well, comforting. We were in bed by 10pm, but by 3:15am, my mental alarm rang. Time to wake up and worry it said. Too many things can go wrong yet. How can you sleep through this potential drama? No contingency plans were enough to soothe the beastly thoughts, so by 4:30 I decided to check e-mails. Perhaps AMEX or CheapoAir would come through with a miracle. Miracles only happen in the movies.

Thankfully, I called the night before for a wake-up call as well as setting the clock. I forget to turn the alarm on after setting it. Breakfast choices at the cafeteria were pleasantly bountiful, but we only had 12 minutes to grab some eggs and sausage before catching the shuttle to the airport. Considering our record, I wanted to be here three hours early. All went well with check-in.

The plan was to spend excess time in the Diner’s Club lounge. Of course, it was four terminals from where we were. After walking for 20 minutes and only getting one terminal away, I chose not to continue. Once there, we would have to go through security, find the lounge, leave 30 minutes or more before our boarding and got through security again at our terminal. It was not worth the energy of an already stressful trip.

Pin It Now!

Monday, January 12, 2015

But This Is Not Quito!

0 comments

For some reason, I had great expectations knowing we were flying TAP Airlines, the Portuguese carrier. Leaving Budapest, I was not disappointed; the legroom was sufficient, without getting knee knocks every two minutes.  Breakfast was a bit strange and carbo-loaded, certainly not the diabetic menu I requested. The main item was a sandwich solely consisting of fried onions. Other than this, it was a fine flight; longer than remembered, the flight is three hours and 20 minutes. Portugal is one hour behind on the clock than Hungary.

With a four-hour layover, the Diner’s Club lounge was a haven for us. We keep making the wishful mistake of going into the Premier lounge next door for the highest of high fliers, but each time, there is a redirect to next door. Not that there is anything wrong with the lounge we were in, it is spacious, has great artwork, and a lovely spread of food and drink, but there is still the feeling that something better is only 30 feet away that nags at you. 

Finding that TAP was our connecting flight for the leg Lisbon to Miami at first was a relief when the alternative could have been American Airlines, not a favorite. The joy of this situation was short lived. Initially stampeded into buses and hauled to the plane, we were kept waiting on the bus for 23 minutes before allowed to board. We were in row 39 F and G. As it turned out, this was favorable in that thru row 37, the center section was four across, but starting with 38, it was only three across. We did not have a seatmate, which was ideal. My aisle seat was broken and would not stay in place. Most be old and cannot keep it up any longer.  The seat in front of me was the same. To make matters worse, under the seat in front at my feet was an attached metal box, limiting further my foot room. The pitch on these seats was less than optimal, so we were scrunched in. 

Another disappointment was the entertainment system. Although they had a wide selection of movies and a few TV shows that was the extent of it. We had seen about 98% of the movies on offer, but the worst part of this was discovering the viewing limitations. Each movie plays on a loop. You switch to channel 10 for example and there movie A is playing followed by B, C, and D. If you miss the first part of movie A, there is no way to back it up or skip to the next movie like other airline video systems. For eight hours, we napped or read. 

The meals were less than exciting; even by airline standards, I would generously give them a C-. The attendants on the left side, who claimed all they had left was fish, served us. Fish and I are strange (b)fed-fellows. Generally, we don’t agree on anything. I had requested diabetic meals throughout, but this did not happen at all. In addition to the fish, there was a roll, another roll, another high carb biscuit and rice with the fish. A discoloring of the fish gave the impression that a tomato has passed by at some time or another but was not invited to stay. With gratitude that I had the presence of mind to think ahead, I dug into the bag of peanuts I brought with me. 

Before landing, we had breakfast, which seemed strange when it was evening in Miami. Again, the three rolls served went uneaten. I did partake of orange slices, but passed on the chocolate umbrella and the custard.

Once we landed, we were on the tarmac for 39 minutes, because there was no slot open to park the plane. We had two hours in between connections. Okay, now bear with me, because I swear on my passport that I am not lying and Ron will stand witness. From the gate where we deplaned to the first section of the passport control area was one ½ miles according to my pedometer. Eight moving sidewalks that worked expedited the walk, but it was still time consuming. Others did not. I vaguely remembered this from last year going to Panama. At the end of the rainbow, there is no bucket of gold, but fool’s gold. There are 30 machines lined up for US citizens only. Others go in a different, shorter and more efficient direction. There were about 400 people in line for these self-serving mandatory robotic menaces. After choosing a language, you scan your passport photo, answer online questions, then the machine moves up to capture your face and snaps your picture. Do not leave yet, it has to print a receipt for you to take with you. Mine had an X on it. Curious!

Thinking this was more resourceful than standing in long lines waiting for a Customs officer to check our passport was a fool’s errand. After another ¼ of a mile walk, we reached the next section. All of those US citizens with an X on their picture had to go through another line. Well, only 269 people ahead of us here, but nevertheless, we still had to get our luggage, get our boarding passes, go through Customs, security and try to make our flight. 

By the time we made it through the labyrinth of bureaucracy, we missed our flight. Directed to the American Airlines counter, we needed to be re-ticketed.  Oh, the next flight is not until tomorrow. Well, that means we lost the money paid for out hotel in Quito for tonight. We lost the airfare we paid to fly from Quito to Cuenca tomorrow. We have to shell out money for a hotel for tonight. The problem was partially due to airlines not getting along. TAP is part of the Star Alliance, while American is not. TAP could not issue boarding passes all the way through to Quito, but still the delays were a different story. 

The agent suggested we go speak to the TAP people as they were responsible for all of this, but of course, their check-in counters are in a concourse a mile from where we were. When we found them, there was not a soul there. Asking around, we learned they only appear three hours before the next flight. There were no TAP offices in Miami airport. 

Pin It Now!

Sunday, January 15, 2012

Three Countries in 24 Hours

0 comments

All vacations have to come to an end. Some should end sooner than others. This vacation was just right. I was ready to return to Europe, not to say that I didn't appreciate all that we did or didn't do. We had to take a taxi to Belize City to the airport, another capital that has a high crime rate. 

The check in process is fostered by electronic machines to print out boarding passes, though the airport is not tremendously large. What angered me once we brought our luggage to be checked was the fact that it would only be checked as far as Miami. We would have to pick it up, go through Customs and then recheck it. WHY?? The reasoning given was this was our first port of entry into the US, but what flummoxes me is that we did not need to do this going. Our luggage was checked through to Guatemala City. 

American Airlines is on my Do Not Fly list unless absolutely necessary. The flight from Belize to Miami is a short couple of hours. Miami's airport is horridly huge and though we had 3 hours between flights, it took 138 minutes to get from one flight to the next leaving only28 minutes to shovel down a lunch before the next part of the journey when our boarding had started. The flight from Miami to Madrid was again one of those hideous planes with community theater experiences, not back of the seat view your own. We both skipped the movies because the sound quality was that of scratched record played on an antique record player. They don't even serve a drink of beer or booze without whipping out the credit card reader with charges that start at $6.00.

Turbulence was beyond the control of anyone but Mother Nature and she must have been having a bout of PMS. We shook, rattled, and rolled like an old television commercial for Shake and Bake chicken. Needless to say, if you are reading this, we made it to Madrid safely and early. Not that this was provident in our case, as check-in to our hotel was not until 2pm. 

We left our suitcases, and sleep deprived, wandered the city that has now been stripped of any sign of Christmas cheer, but had a blanket of early morning fog and winter chill one never associates with Spain. By noon, the hotel felt sorry for us and opened the room early. After a cold shower as there was no hot water, we napped before returning to the hot chocolate and churro cafe. Dinner was at the mini sandwich shop we had discovered in December on our walking tour. Then it was an early night, for tomorrow, we will wander the streets again before our final flight to Budapest.
Enhanced by Zemanta

Pin It Now!

Tuesday, December 20, 2011

American Airlines - 2 Thumbs Down

0 comments

After three poor nights of sleeping due to noise, we are moving onward. The circles under my eyes looked like hillside tiered gardening. If there were a inevitable harvest, I wouldn’t mind, but it is ruining the last of the good looks that I am desperately trying to hold on to. Getting to the airport was a snap. The metro station is almost outside our hotel door and under it is the station for the train. One train ride for one stop and then on to the metro connection and we are at the airport within twenty minutes.

American Airlines has a self-check in process in Madrid Airport. We could have printed our boarding passes at the hotel if they had a printer we could use, but there are also machines in the airport to do it for you. You punch in the reservation number, scan your passport, put in the number of pieces of luggage you intend to take and then gasp in all of the O2 when you see the additional cost if you have 2 pieces. One piece is free; a second is an additional hefty charge. Carry-on is limited to one piece, but the instructions are unclear whether this means in addition to a purse or briefcase or if this is the one piece. With boarding passes in hand, all we had to do was drop off our luggage at the designated drop off desk. It seemed like a simple task, but it turned out to be lengthy, making us miss any chance of using the Diners Club lounge.

Before shedding ourselves of the luggage, we had to go through a series of security questions, but the woman would not allow both of us to be there at once. Only family members are allowed to be joined at the hip. I corrected her and after a moment’s hesitation, she proceeded. Spain allows same sex marriage and all the rights therewith, so why should we be excluded? The list of questions was the usual, “Who owns these suitcases?; Who packed them?;  “Has anyone given you any gifts?”, but the differences were she genuinely seemed interested in the answers.

Once she put our clearance stickers on the bags, we had to drop them off at the counter. Although this was supposed to be a drop off only, the line was slow and tedious, because people are arguing over what they intend to check and what is a carry-on. It took us over thirty minutes after we had already printed out our boarding passes. Then we were told we had to be at the gate 1 hour before boarding or they would unload our luggage, plus there was a warning that the travel time to the gate from where we were standing was thirty minutes away.

It took moving escalators, moving sidewalks, elevators, and an airport sky train to get close to our gate; the balance of the distance was old-fashioned walking. When we were in the gate area, there was a lounge nearby, but they were not the Diners Club lounge. We were informed there was another lounge upstairs, but she wasn’t certain who they catered to. Being paranoid about time, we went to our gate.

The flight from Madrid to Miami is 9 hours and 40 minutes. One would think that in this day and age, a modern plane would be flying this route. It wasn’t. We were held up when the back-up generator failed. They had to complete the paperwork, but there wasn’t a word about fixing it on this old 767 equipped with a single row of monitors running down the center row of seats. Passengers not only did not receive any choices in entertainment for this long flight, but those who were stuck on the sides had to stretch their necks to view the videos. Although we had center seats, I skipped over the poor choices of entertainment and read my book instead. When drink service started, they announced that beer and wine would be available for $6.00. After hearing that, I tuned out on the cost of liquor. It was incomprehensible that a major airline would charge for the first drink on an international flight when one considers the cost of the ticket. Meal service was typical airline meals, but they service of the staff was excellent. The steward who gave me my meal asked if I wanted a bottle of wine gratis. I was not sure why, but I seem to think it was because I wanted chicken, but they only had pasta left.

Going through Miami was another nightmare. We were transiting through, but still had to go through Passport Control and Customs. Why are we wasting resources on that when we were already in a secured zone?  This took up a good 45 minutes of the 2 1/2 hours we had to spare between flights. Then we had to do the security thing all over again. They wanted to put me in that XRay machine where there is a see all-tell all view of your nakedness. I don’t even like seeing my naked body; I am certainly not going to parade it for strangers in Miami. Well, what a hullabaloo that was. I had to stand aside and wait for someone to be available to give me an hand examination. I waited so long, I felt like it was punishment for not getting the photo shoot done and over with. Ron went the same route, but his exam was faster. Not having been to the US since January 2003, it really irked me to have to deal with all of this. I had hoped that being a transit passenger, we could just slip by unnoticed and unharassed. 

American was the airline from Miami to Guatemala City. People were jamming with their carry-on luggage. How they managed to get as far as the boarding gate without being stopped by someone, is beyond me. There were full sized suitcases that would not have fit in an overhead bin during the most generous days of flying. Airline personnel were waiting at the gate, and stripping these people of their luggage and handing them an ID tag to pick it up in the luggage area when we arrived. This may have been smart, because I am not certain how the airline could then charge them for excess luggage once they made it to the door of the plane.

Flying time is 2 hours and 40 minutes. They had video monitors on this plane too and video service. If you wanted to watch the television shows they played, it would cost you $2 for earphones. If you had your own, they still wanted the $2. If you want anything other than soda, coffee or tea, there is a charge. One guy behind us ordered a couple of scotches. $26. The person on the other side of the aisle got some potato chips in a can. $3.29. If I were the flight attendants, I would be humiliated to ask for the money.

We arrived in Guatemala City, but we are staying in Antigua. Ron had arranged a taxi to meet us. Sure enough, there was a guy with a sign, which I pointed out to Ron. After we drove for an hour, I had this horrible thought. Having been traveling at that point for 26 hours, I was not certain I had read the driver’s sign correctly. I did see Ron Sc, but you know those visual tricks where your mind fills in what you think should follow. There was never a word spoken with the driver, making me hope for the best. Fortunately, we did arrive in Antigua after 1 ½ hours and he did drop us off where we had reservations. Time for a long winter’s nap or at least until 10am tomorrow.
Enhanced by Zemanta

Pin It Now!

Wednesday, February 09, 2011

Something Special in the Air?

0 comments

I just read that American Airlines, who had the slogan "Something Special in the Air" has announced daily direct daily flights between New York and Budapest starting on April 6th. Malev, the Hungarian national carrier will have share coding with these flights. Don't even ask what Malev's slogan is. During winter months, the flights will be reduced to 4 times a week.


Save those frequent flier points~

Enhanced by Zemanta

Pin It Now!

Tuesday, October 12, 2010

Arpad Writes:

0 comments

Farkas Árpád has left a new comment on your post "American is Coming, American is Coming":
"Good news. I wonder if it will result in any kind of decline in the price of plane tickets."
 
Response:
One would think this is logical a conclusion when there is competition in an industry, but history shows this is a false assumption. Yes, there may be some bargain seats with the ticketing starts this next week, but after that, most likely not. 

After reading many travel blogs, newsletters, and magazines for years, it has been apparent that airlines are not out to make friends with their low fares unless they are able to gouge your wallet in other ways. Look at easyJet and RyanAir; both once offered bargain seats, but now they do everything they can to flip you over and have all of your cash fall to the ground.
Enhanced by Zemanta

Pin It Now!

Monday, October 11, 2010

American is Coming, American is Coming

1 comments

Confused why it is not plural, American are coming? The reason is simple, it is referring to the airline. American Airlines has made a pact with the devilish operators of Budapest airport. American will start direct flights from NYC's JFK to Budapest starting in 2011. Up until now, Delta Airlines has been the only American airline to service the Hungarian capital. American Airlines is part of the OneWorld airline alliance of frequent flier partners. Delta is associated with SkyTeam. Malev the Hungarian airline is associated with OneWorld.

Enhanced by Zemanta

Pin It Now!

Tuesday, August 17, 2010

Going for the Green

0 comments

Thinking ahead, there have never been any redeeming factors for having a Malev’s frequent flier program membership. In the past, they always seemed to either lose my points or mysteriously disappear after three months without warning or explanation; however, Ron's remained intact most of the time. To question them, I always had to visit their office to adjust it in person. Too much hassle. One quick Google search showed Malev as now being a member of the One World Alliance. Opps! We don’t have any memberships with any of those airlines. Best options were American or British Airlines. American seemed the most logical, but we have not flown either for over fifteen years. With a couple of keystrokes, we each were instantly American Airlines members with virtual cards. A quick screenshot of them pasting them into a document, I had them printed out for an airport presentation. This flight is 3 hours, over 1,ooo miles, a trip too good to miss out on miles.

There was not a single empty seat on the plane, meaning Ron and I had to sit in different aisles. Initially, we were two rows apart. I would have shared my row with two youngsters until they mother asked me to change seats. That put me one row ahead of Ron, a wee bit closer, not ht that we had any conversation stored for the flight. Good thing too. There were over twenty unaccompanied children or twenty-some little people on their way to an International Little People convention, we were never quite sure of their category. Regardless of their status, the little munchkins were on their way to the Emerald Isle. Even at baggage claim in Dublin there was no supervising adult hovering over these children with worried looks. There was no news of any orphanages in Hungary reporting a great escape. I wanted to give them my number in case they did find Oz. I would pay for their map and directions.
I guess we should have hopped on their shuttle marked Yellow Brick Road Express, but we were too busy looking for our provided ride by Irish Rail.

Our escort was supposed to be wearing a bright yellow jacket. As we left Passport Control and then Customs, there was a small mob of anxious people waiting for loved ones or those they were commissioned to temporarily love and transport for a short time. Those looking for strangers had signs announcing who they were there to retrieve. No one had our names. There was a grandpa looking man with a yellow rain jacket, but he was busy speaking to a young woman, who we presumed was his arriving daughter. His hands were to his sides, one with a briefcase. 

Calling IrishRail was useless. They close at 5:00 pm. We walked back and forth and forth and back, but no one bore our name on any sign or signal to alert our attention. Elder man never left, though his young female companion had dismissed him minutes earlier. We finally approached him asking if he were from IrishRail. At this he turned around and showed us the logo on the back of his jacket; like this was intuitive for us to check him out front and back. There was no indication on the front of the jacket. Later when he gave us our documents, I noticed a sign with our names on it that never made it out of his briefcase. He claimed he thought the jacket would be enough. Hey Charlie! News flash…it does not work.

Charlie is how we referred to him; we never did catch his name, but he could not remember ours either. He was to transport us to our hotel. Transport was public bus with tickets provided by IrishRail, but due to our late arrival, the bus we needed had its last run for the night. An alternate bus did not accept our tickets,  only took us part of the way, but then we had to take a tram the rest of the ride, purchasing our own tram tickets. We did not arrive at the hotel until close to 11:00 pm. Charlie kind of hinted we should join him at the pub near the hotel when I had asked about pubs being open. That was hours earlier it seemed and my interest had waned significantly. 

IrishRail booked us into the Ashling Hotel for two nights. As it turned out it was a Best Western, better than any I have remembered in the past and the service was exceptional. To celebrate Ireland, we had a pint in the lounge, deciding for forfeit dinner. Malev only provided a sandwich as a meal, but we were too tired by this point to hunt out places. Pubs would be closing soon, making pub food scarce. 

Enhanced by Zemanta

Pin It Now!