Tell me your travel horror stories!

[Hawkeye-X]

Post 'em now, before I send your next suitcase in Ulan Batar, Mongolia!

[1gobluedem]

1. I just did

http://www.democraticunderground.com/discuss/duboard.php?az=view_all&address=105x6718505

Another time it took me 12 hours to get back from Denver thanks to cranky air traffic controllers at O'Hare who were mad because the FAA wouldn't let them stack planes anymore; they slowed traffic down to a crawl, left us holding over Missouri so long that we had to go to Indianapolis to refuel. I missed four different connections they tried to book me on had to go to three different concourses with my cane, purse, and carryon while the golf carts just zoomed past me; finally I burst into tears, demanded a wheelchair, my bag, and a meal and, once I got home, vowed to never set foot in O'Hare again. Seven years later and I still haven't.

[Screwfly]

2. I can't afford to travel

The only thing that could make me go on road trip is a zombie outbreak.

[Whoa_Nelly]

3. 1977~~Pre-cell phone/Internet days

Driving to Oklahoma from CA middle of summer in an old yellow VW Bug

Had borrowed a friend's dog for protection on the road.

Broke down on I-40.

OK Highway Patrol stops.

Says he can take me to Yukon, but not the dog.

It's over 100 out.

I protest that my dog will die, so he finally gives in after about 5 minutes of debate with me.

Takes me to some guy's step-van outside of Yukon, and tells me this guy is a mobile repair and will fix things for me.

Dog and I get into the step-van.

The balding, 50-ish (I'm only 23) love-handle heavy guy has 8 CB radios in his cab.

He asks the right questions. Calls in to OKC for the right parts. Tells me it'll be about two hours . Then, proceeds to try and intimidate me.

First shows of his male prowess with his ability to use any and all CBs at the same time.

Then, he starts asking me questions about my dog.

So, I tell him (remember...this is NOT my dog to begin with!)

Me: Oh, yeah...she's a really good dog. She's trained to attack. She knows subtle hand signals, and has killed for me.

Repair Guy: Hold on... (gets on CB)
Gimme a 10-4 on the arrival of that part. We have an emergency here, and need it before ASAP! Over?

Part arrives within 15 minutes.

We go back to I-40.

He fixes my car while I watch everything fucking thing he does while keeping my dog on the leash telling her, "Stay back, girl! It's gonna be okay!"


Once again, in my wild traveling youth, did I save my hide... :rofl: