Ah, the joys of travel.
Craig Forrest and I flew to Salt Lake City Thursday in order to spend the day Friday watching both Real Salt Lake and Toronto FC train as part of our preparation in advance of their match at Rio Tinto Stadium Saturday night.
Seemed simple enough.
But wait.
Summer storms in Toronto delayed our departure by about an hour. No big deal. Except that to get to Salt Lake City we had to go through Denver. So we figured we were in danger of missing our connection.
After departing Toronto and hitting cruising altitude, the view was spectacular. Monstrous thunderheads loomed out my port side window as the plane wound its way around the storms on its way to Denver. Just as we started our descent the pilot came on.
That's always bad news.
Indeed it was.
Thunderstorms in Denver had closed the airport there and so we were diverted to Colorado Springs. Not exactly a booming metropolis. With the idea of eventually taking off, they came around and fuelled up the aircraft as we were running low. After about 90 minutes the pilot came back on to tell us we might have an opening to take off in the next little bit. Now here's the good part. He opened his window to sign for the fuel (we've all been to a gas station right?) And then couldn't get it closed. That's right, couldn't get it closed. I am not making this up. Without it being closed we were not taking off. The other option was to put us on buses for the two hour drive to Denver. But then along came Joe the repairman with a tool box which reminded me of what my son used to carry around when he was six. Anyway, somehow Joe fixed the window. Dodged a bullet there didn't we. After three hours on the tarmac the word finally came through that we were good to go. The pilot fired up the engines, we were just about to move, but wait, another storm in Denver dashed our hopes yet again.
Four hours went by...
Four and a half hours...
Four hours and fifty minutes...
We finally departed for Denver. What a disgrace. Our Air Canada pilot was tremendous but I can't say the same for the two airports in Colorado Springs and Denver, the way they jerked us around.
It's shameful for a plane load of 180 people to sit on the tarmac cooped up for close to five hours. There ought'a be a law. In fact I think there is. And of course there was no chance of getting to Salt Lake Thursday night. So we drove around in a taxi looking for a hotel.
Five hotels later and an expensive cab ride, we finally found a couple of rooms. So we were re-booked on Friday morning flights to Salt Lake. I say flights because of course they coudn't get us on the same one.
If you don't believe any of this, just ask Forrest, if you can find him. I have no idea where he is right now. All I can say is, it had better be a good match Saturday night after the hell we just went through. I want a refund, or at least a TFC win.
