The plane backed away from the gate, rolled for a bit, and then stopped. A few minutes later, the pilot came on the intercom and said there was a problem with one of the engines. They were trying to locate a part so it could be repaired.
I leaned my head back and took a nap.
An hour later, I woke up, and we were still in exactly the same place. Every now and then, the engine would rev up, only to wind back down again. I pulled out my book, Theo of Golden, and started reading.
Two hours later—three hours after we had first boarded—the pilot came back on. Unfortunately, the engine couldn’t be fixed.
A collective sigh filled the cabin.
Honestly, I was just thankful we weren’t taking off with an engine problem. The pilot explained that Air France would be arranging hotels, rebooking flights, and taking care of all the logistics. As I listened, I thought, Can you imagine having to manage 300 passengers, all their luggage, hotels, transportation, and new flights? I was very glad that wasn’t my job.
I was simply happy to get off the plane.
I called my closest friend, Erika, who lives about 40 minutes from the airport. My family lives three hours away, so asking them to come pick me up only to drive me back the next day didn’t make any sense.
Considering the situation, Air France handled everything remarkably well.
It took another three hours before I finally got my luggage.
Well… “luggage” is a funny word for it.
Normally, I travel with only a carry-on when I come home. This time, though, I checked a cardboard box. A 45-pound cardboard box.
Inside were books, walnuts, chocolate chips, vanilla, more books for Gabriel, some twirly dresses for Olivia, jeans for Yann, and a few other things.
My plan seemed so simple. I would check the box at the airport, fly to France, and Yann would pick me up. Easy peasy.
Not so easy peasy when your plane has mechanical problems and everyone has to deplane.
After waiting three hours at the baggage carousel for my 45-pound cardboard box, I finally got it. Then I rented a cart because there was no way I was carrying that monster to the car.
When Air France finally proposed a new itinerary, it included three layovers. No, thank you. I called the airline and rebooked my flight.
Now I’m leaving tomorrow instead—two days later than planned.
The silver lining? I get to spend some unexpected time with my friend Erika.
Of course, had I known all this was going to happen, I would have stayed three extra days with my mom instead of heading to the airport.
That’s the thing about traveling long distances: you have to expect the unexpected.
And as for checking a 45-pound cardboard box never again…
Well…
Maybe I will.
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