Packed, showered, fed. Bidding goodbye to Katherine and Raoul, thanking them for the hospitality, we trek out into the cool city, loaded down with twenty kilos on our backs. Zipping underground, and then whisking through the air over the magnetic field we arrive at the airport. Sliding up the hallway we finally reach the terminal and join the snaking line. Then things go awry.
A confused look flashes across the attendant's face. Rushed words in Mandarin are hissed to her coworkers. With them peering over her shoulder a discussion ensues, at which point Larissa and I exchange a worried glance. I'm informed that there is an issue with my ticket. Unable to get a further explanation I follow their advice and drag my pack directly to Customer Service. However the answers I receive here are unsatisfactory. "Your ticket has been suspended" is all they can tell me before I'm advised to contact my sleeping travel agent (midnight in Ontario). Fighting through the this-can't-be-happening feeling Larissa and I struggle to figure out what to do. Luckily Larissa has yet to check her luggage, so I refuse to purchase a ticket at full fare, push Larissa's flight back 24 hours and return to Katherine's, grateful to at least have a base to return to.
Now the long wait until business hours, eastern standard time, in hopes of resolving this.
... the saga continues.
No comments:
Post a Comment