When Travel Throws a Curve Ball
Our bags were all packed and ready to go...actually they had already been packed for a month now. After moving out of our house on August 25th, our family had been nomadic for the past month, bouncing between family and friends in addition to my solo trip to Guatemala. Yet, now, it was finally time to depart for Spain!
My aunt dropped us off at New York's JFK Airport after a final hurrah in Ocean City, New Jersey, and we settled in to wait a few hours until we could check in for our 11:55 PM flight to Madrid, Spain. We passed time by riding on the elevators and escalators with the girls. On the way back from the food court, I noticed on the display board that our flight had been delayed until 4:35 AM. "Oh boy," I thought, "this is going to be a long night."
After a while, I thought that it would be a good idea to see if we could check-in early to our flight so we wouldn't have to try to get Lydia and Evelyn through security after 1:30 AM. As I walked to a counter, I saw an update that our flight had been cancelled. I waited in the check-in line for quite a while, only to be directed to another area where I waited with other customers for a couple hours. Eventually, we were informed that we would be taken to a hotel and would need to work with the airline to reschedule our flight.
With a bit of confusion and crying children in tow, we eventually made it to the correct area to wait for the bus that would take us to our hotel. It was pretty much exactly the same spot where we had been dropped off by my aunt seven hours earlier. Once we made it on the bus, I was able to call the airline to reschedule our flight for the following night, but we would need to fly out of Newark instead of JFK. At this point, I realized that the bus was traveling the opposite direction of Newark, heading east on Long Island. I grew more confused as we seemed to be getting farther from commercial districts and closer to residential areas. Finally, we turned into a stately gate and drove down a long driveway to a Gilded Age era mansion. "Where in the world are we? This isn't exactly the Motel 6," I thought.
We tumbled out of the bus with our fellow bedraggled travelers, mostly Spaniards, and entered The Mansion at Glen Cove, which had been the home of a Standard Oil executive in the early 20th century but was now a hotel and conference center. We crashed in our comfortable room before waking up to breakfast in a chandelier filled ballroom. The girls enjoyed playing around the many fountains and exploring the extensive grounds. After lunch in the ballroom, I was able to fit in a workout in the fitness center. Having our flight cancelled, only to be transported to this luxurious oasis was truly a bizarre experience.
Fortunately, the second attempt at our flight went much better than the first. After our overnight flight from Newark to Barcelona, we caught a domestic flight to Madrid. We ended the evening by eating delicious kabobs next to a park fountain as Spanish children played after dark. After months of preparation, we had finally arrived in Spain!
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| Here we go! |
My aunt dropped us off at New York's JFK Airport after a final hurrah in Ocean City, New Jersey, and we settled in to wait a few hours until we could check in for our 11:55 PM flight to Madrid, Spain. We passed time by riding on the elevators and escalators with the girls. On the way back from the food court, I noticed on the display board that our flight had been delayed until 4:35 AM. "Oh boy," I thought, "this is going to be a long night."
After a while, I thought that it would be a good idea to see if we could check-in early to our flight so we wouldn't have to try to get Lydia and Evelyn through security after 1:30 AM. As I walked to a counter, I saw an update that our flight had been cancelled. I waited in the check-in line for quite a while, only to be directed to another area where I waited with other customers for a couple hours. Eventually, we were informed that we would be taken to a hotel and would need to work with the airline to reschedule our flight.
 |
| Here we don't go...right back where we started. |
With a bit of confusion and crying children in tow, we eventually made it to the correct area to wait for the bus that would take us to our hotel. It was pretty much exactly the same spot where we had been dropped off by my aunt seven hours earlier. Once we made it on the bus, I was able to call the airline to reschedule our flight for the following night, but we would need to fly out of Newark instead of JFK. At this point, I realized that the bus was traveling the opposite direction of Newark, heading east on Long Island. I grew more confused as we seemed to be getting farther from commercial districts and closer to residential areas. Finally, we turned into a stately gate and drove down a long driveway to a Gilded Age era mansion. "Where in the world are we? This isn't exactly the Motel 6," I thought.
We tumbled out of the bus with our fellow bedraggled travelers, mostly Spaniards, and entered The Mansion at Glen Cove, which had been the home of a Standard Oil executive in the early 20th century but was now a hotel and conference center. We crashed in our comfortable room before waking up to breakfast in a chandelier filled ballroom. The girls enjoyed playing around the many fountains and exploring the extensive grounds. After lunch in the ballroom, I was able to fit in a workout in the fitness center. Having our flight cancelled, only to be transported to this luxurious oasis was truly a bizarre experience.
 |
| Did we stumble upon a worm hole to the Gilded Age? |
Fortunately, the second attempt at our flight went much better than the first. After our overnight flight from Newark to Barcelona, we caught a domestic flight to Madrid. We ended the evening by eating delicious kabobs next to a park fountain as Spanish children played after dark. After months of preparation, we had finally arrived in Spain!
 |
| We made it! |
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