Too ready..
The sweet deal I got on my plane ticket to France was the beginning and the end of my luck. My burning traveler heart had no clue how to handle the debacle that unfolded on my connection flight from Manchester to Paris early Saturday morning. As a girl who works long nights in customer service, dealing with testy patrons normally consists of over-apologizing and over-compensating-- anything and everything to keep them from writing impassioned Yelp reviews. Well, Thomas Cook Airlines will definitely be dealing with an overflow of those pretty soon.
I had already prepared myself for my travels. As much as I ridiculed horseshoe shaped neck pillows in the past, I was counting on my memory foam plush to give me the support of at least a couple hours rest along my 24-hour journey from Miami to Cannes. An 8-hour flight, a 3-hour layover, another 2-hour flight, 4 hours to get to the train station, topped off with a 5-hour train ride to our hotel. I was READY. Or so I THOUGHT.............
The first flight went so peachy. A 2 hour delay wasn't going to sour my trip. But the combination of overly vigilant TSA officers, poorly circulated terminal AC, and £4 airplane mini water bottles only ignited the fury flame I never knew I had. Daniel, Noelle, Morgan, Mike and I were all on the same flights taking us to Paris, but once we sprinted through the Manchester Airport to make our flight, Noelle and I were only faced with the worst experience of our lives.
May I speak to your manager please...
We got kicked off the plane by the airline. Without notice.
And as our friends flew off over the English channel, we had to wave from the ground. Noelle and I, along with a gentleman with his 7-year-old son, were trapped in Manchester, all thanks to Thomas Cook Airline's fucked up fuck up.
Long story short, we were faced with the most disgraceful service I've ever experienced from a company ever. I couldn't believe how unhelpful and condescending the staff at this airport were, putting us off to the point of just asking for a refund and purchasing tickets on a different flight that left that night. This all resulted in an extra night away in Paris from the Cannes Festival, and then buying another $100 train ticket to Cannes. But I've got to say, Noelle was the driving force behind actually getting to the Riviera in the first place. Never have I seen more might and ferocity in such a tiny human. So this post goes out to you, Noelle. You saved my sorry, passive ass from spending the night in Manchester. All is gouda.
-A.J. :~)