The Last Day

I have been postponing writing this, because the last day was just so awful. But here we go ...

We left pretty early, taking the metro and then the train to Schiphol Airport. We left about 5 hours before our flight and got to the airport at least 4 hours before our flight was to depart, maybe more. We figured it would be a little crazy, but we had confirmed seats on a flight later that day. We didn't print boarding passes because we know with lap children on international flights, you have paper tickets and so you have to talk to someone behind the desk.

Things seemed fine as we went from the train station to the airport. We found the gates to check in for our flight ... but the way was blocked off and instead they were directing us outside. So, we had to walk outside and then all the way around to the other end of the checkin area. There was no signs, nothing, just a huge mass of people that I guess you could call a line. A huge amount of people. Thousands upon thousands of people, at least 10 people across slowly, as in grass growing slowly, moving. Everything was total chaos, but the general consensus appeared to be that this was indeed the line to be in. There were a few national Guard type-ish people who told us to just stay in line, that they knew nothing, etc. etc. No one knew anything. It was horrible. We stood and waited and waited and waited. People from business class, regular class, people without tickets, people with tickets, we were all waiting in this line. Occasionally, someone would come and tell anyone with boarding passes to follow them - sadly, not us. The kids started to get very impatient. Seth was crying and wanting to eat. Andrew started crying and saying, "It's too crowded. It's too crowded". We could barely move - think Tokyo subway during rush hour crowded. Finally, Katsu talked to some of the men with berets and convinced them that the kids needed to eat / some space, so they allowed me and the kids to sit on a bench in the blocked off area while Katsu proceeded in line. I was lucky to breastfeed with a captive audience. Occasionally, people came around with bottles of water, chips, etc. There was TV stations filming and everyone was upset. At one point, a fistfight broke out.

The line snaked around. I let Seth crawl around on the dirty airport floor. After probably 2 hours, we finally got back to where the original check-in counter was and the line finally split into people with tickets and people who needed to book. The poor people who needed to book had a huge line that barely moved. The line for people with tickets seemed pretty fast and in short order we got to the electronic check-in screens. We knew we couldn't do self service, so we asked one of the people working for Delta what we should do now. They told us we had to wait in another line. I started to lose it here and told them that wasn't acceptable. I thought they meant we had to go in that other long line we had seen before. I told them we couldn't do that, we had little children, we would surely miss our flight. After a fruitless discussion and talking to other of their supervisor, they said they could do nothing for us. In fact, that couldn't even tell us where the line started, but that we should go in that general direction with the mass of people. We were in this line for at least an hour, probably more. The people in this line were MAD. Most of them were close to or had already missed their flight. It was the most frustrating thing I have ever seen and it moved the slowest I have ever seen. One of the guys next to us kept talking about this was the kind of environment where something bad was just waiting to happen. He told us that if a riot broke out, the safest place to be was up and someone we needed to find a way to climb with our two kids up to the ceiling. Right.

When Katsu was almost to the front, I talked to a few of the employees again. I said our flight was leaving in 45 minutes, would we be able to make it? They doubted it as we had to be on the flight 45 minutes before departure. They said the airlines were losing so much money by not flying planes that if we missed the flight it didn't matter - it was better for the airline to fly half full flights. They would just stick us on the next flight, too bad if it wasn't until tomorrow (which it almost surely would have been). They offered to get Andrew chips, but they never came back with them.

Finally, Katsu got to the front desk. We had waited in line for at least 4 hours. After our lady talked on the phone for a long time, she said we should be able to make the flight. Hallelujah! She said we should only check one bag and we would have to carry-on everything else. She said to take our checked bag to the end of the way and they would take care of it. We took it over there and the man said he would definitely not do anything with it and he had no idea what we were talking about. We finally found a Delta lady who said she would take care of it and we started running. We did passport control in a huge hurry and ran to our gate. Katsu ran ahead. I can only run so well with Seth in a sling and pushing the stroller, but made it there out of breath. Thankfully, we weren't even the last ones!

At this point, we were totally worn out. Katsu had needed to use the bathroom for four hours. It was almost 3 pm and we hadn't eaten anything since breakfast because we had been planning on buying lunch at the airport, but we'd been in line since about 10. The kids were not happy a bit. And we still had a 8 (or maybe more ... I can't remember) hour flight to Detroit. And then a flight from there to St Louis. And get this - because we checked in so late, our seats weren't even together. Katsu was smack dab in the middle of a row, 15 rows in front of the kids for Andrew and me. I didn't want to be in the middle of the row because I knew I would need to breastfeed Seth soon. So, it was me with both kids by myself. Take off was brutal. Seth was fussing and so I was having to nurse him. But Andrew was none too happy (tired, hungry, etc.), so he was pulling my shirt, hitting, biting, etc. Happily, they both fell asleep after the flight took off. After the flight got off, Katsu had convinced his seat mates to switch seats, but by this time, both boys were taking a nap and I didn't want to chance it. They both woke up by dinner service, though, so I was forced to somehow manage eating dinner, getting Andrew to eat dinner, and holding Seth. We actually did pretty good with only some chicken and spinach getting on my shirt and seat and roll crumbs everywhere (from Seth). That was one of those moments were I was thinking - I am a woman, hear me roar!

After dinner, I dropped Seth off in Katsu's seat. He wasn't particularly happy about this - he basically only wants mom, and so he was wailing. Oh, well. Eventually, a few hours into the flight, we did switch seats and we finally were all sitting together. I felt bad about the roll crumbs, but it was worth it to sit together. Seth took another mini-nap I think, but otherwise they were awake. They both fell asleep when the plane landed, so we waited and got off the plane last. Andrew was so completely and totally worn out, that he slept all the way through. Through passport control, getting our bags, customs, security (yes, even getting out of his stroller), waiting for our next flight, getting on our next flight, getting off the next flight, getting our bags, and the taxi ride home. Incredible.

And even more incredible, our checked bag, the one we just left with a Delta attendant who said she would take care of it while we ran off just 30 minutes before the flight was supposed to take off - this bag was waiting for us in St Louis!!! (Well, okay, we had to pick it up in Detroit, take it through customs, and recheck it, but you get the point of it). A miracle.

But we were so glad to be back in the U.S. No more draining our checking account (our balance was $17 when we checked it in Europe before we transferred our emergency fund into the account). No more weird Dutch toilets. No more obnoxious Dutch people who had no idea what they were doing. No more four flights of tiny tiny stairs up to our room. No more 30 minute walk to the train station every day through sand and cobblestone roads. No more eating out of the grocery store or in a restaurant while trying to hold wiggly Seth. No more convincing the kids to be quiet ... in the museum, on the train, on the bus, etc. No more eagerly watching CNN each night to see if the airports were opening again. No more Andrew asking when we would be able to take the plane home and if the cloud was still there.

It was a fun trip (as fun as it can be to travel to Europe with kids), but we were ready to be home.