Unplanned LA Layover - It was not better then the Cook Islands
Art always overreacts by being at the airport early by a margin of four hours, Rita, Jim and Jean accepted his demand for an even earlier Shuttle by United "just in case". We left Petaluma, CA, May 26 at 3 pm to catch our 7:11 pm United flight to LA and connect with New Zealand Air at 11 pm going to the Cook Islands. Daniel and Jennifer flew into LA from Denver, and Joan and Paikky flew into LA from Cincinnati.
Our first warning was the United pilots "work slowdown". The pilots objected to forced overtime. They would only work their safe hours with time to sleep and recover between flights. The slowdown affected all flights from that time on. An on time United flight was rare and mostly nonexistent, with planes leaving and arriving from 1-3 hours late of their scheduled time. This slowdown stated 1-2 weeks before our flight and was to escalate over Memorial Day weekend. We had failed to notice our flight was on the Friday of that weekend. This and other oversights frosted our cake.
When we got seat assignments and asked the receptionist about any delays, we were assured that International passengers got priority for standby, and were assigned as standby to the 4:30 pm flight. We hung around the desk anxiously waiting our call, which never came. Friday was hot even in San Francisco. The United gate's air-conditioning did not cool their entire wing. That's because hundreds of people milled around for hours and hours moving from gate to gate as standby shifted. This continued from plane to plane to plane. Around 6 pm a frustrated United desk person finally announced there were over TWO HUNDRED people on standby. That's when my heart sunk.
Still we maintained our vigil, watching monitors as fake happy faced clerks told us the planes should be on time but the monitors slowly slipped arrival times, 20 min, 30 min, 40 min, 1 hour, 2 hours late. If we had only acted and asked to transfer to another airline but with hopes high. We expected our 7:11 pm flight might only be an hour late.
Finally we boarded our flight around 8:45 pm. We sat in our seats waiting for standby's to be called after steward persons verified several times there were a few empty seats. Then we taxied. It would be tight but we could still make the 11 pm New Zealand flight. Art had left messages on his 800 number that Dan and Jenn picked up. They tried to get New Zealand held on their end. When we asked the stewardess to call New Zealand, she said she had no power to do so.
We were rolling to the end of the runway then stopped cold. The pilot came on to ask anyone with sharp objects to put them away. Then he announced that we had to wait an extra 30 min to take off due to flow control, whatever that meant. That killed any option to make our connection, other than Air New Zealand being delayed or waiting for us.
On landing at 11:15 pm in LA, our pilot literally sped to our exit gate. The stewards did ask to let all international connectors off first and we were among the many dashing for International Terminal. Our gate could not have been farther, being opposite from International. Art did not understand Jenn's message to cut across by the airport restaurant and control tower instead of running the entire U. We ran the entire U, sweating, out of breath, and arrived at the Air New Zealand counter at 11:30 pm. The supervisor was just closing his station and sadly informed us the plane left 20 minutes ago and is in the air. Another breathless pair, Kathy and Jeff, both from Australia, arrived. Kathy collapsed in tears as she sat on the weigh-in section of the baggage counter, since this trip was a gift from her children.
The supervisor, with as much sympathy as he could muster at midnight, did what he could by getting all of us distressed discount rooms at the Sheraton Airport Hotel. We took the hotel van and registered for the FOUR days before Air New Zealand flew again to Rarotonga, settling in close to 1 am without our luggage. Hungry from no dinner and only peanuts on United, the desk informed us that no restaurant was open. We headed for the bar for a glass of wine. Sat down and was told they just closed 2 minutes before! What else could happen? Art called Rarotonga Lodge from the hotel room to leave a message for Dan and Jenn about our delay. Cost: $64. Well, the Rarotongan desk clerk was confused by all the Mr. And Mrs. Cooke's with reserved rooms and put the message in Art and Rita Cooke's box! Dan and Jenn never saw that expensive message.
Disbelief, dismay, depression, anger, and futility swirled through my blood and nerves. Taking a sleeping pill, I laid down for a restless, fitful sleep.
Up early after a shower, we stopped at the Sheraton for brunch -- not worth the price, unfortunately. For our day's work, we took the Sheraton van BACK to the airport and shuttled between Air New Zealand and United to track down our bags. We ran into Kathy and Jeff there, both stranded single passengers who did not know one another before the fiasco. Each airline claimed the other had our bags. Finally Liz at United made an astounding announcement. She was sure our bags had preceded us to Rarotonga. Since the transfer company stated for sure they gave the bags to New Zealand, we stood at New Zealand counter until Ed Williams, the supervisor, finally came out. Being smart by then, we asked him to personally call Rarotonga airport -- which was closed because no flights arrive on the weekend and they only open when flights are coming or going. He reluctantly agreed to send a fax, giving permission, IF our bags were there, to have Dan, Jenn, Joan or Paikky pick them up for us. Ed Williams said that, by law, luggage is only put on a flight when the passengers carrying the bags are verified on the plane. When Dan and Jenn found out our bags were at the Rarotonga Airport, the Airport offered to put them on the Lodge's bus and store them at the hotel lobby. Our bags had a great vacation in the Cook Islands.
Kathy, Jeff, Art, Rita, Jim and Jean went for lunch at the Encounter, a retro 60's restaurant hanging from spider legs with a view of the airport. This is the restaurant that many people who fly into LA think is the control tower. The food was OK but the views made up for it. Jeff and Kathy thought eating at a LA landmark was great. They were due out for Auckland that night, Kathy giving up all hopes of spending her four-day Mother's Day gift in Rarotonga. At least she did not actually flood with tears anymore, just got dewy-eyed.
We said our good-byes and headed back to Air New Zealand to find out if Ed found out anything. He hadn't but allowed me to call the Rarotongan and got switched into Joan's room instead of Daniel's by giving the wrong room number first. I talked for 20 minutes explaining the delay and problem with luggage, even giving exact numbers on our claim tags while Ed switched from side to side, glaring, waiting for me to hang up. At least I got $100 free phone call out of them. We asked when he was due off work and got a very evasive answer by asking when we were coming back to the airport. We said 6 pm, he said, "I will be here." We arrived back at 5 pm to have the assistant manager tell us that probably 4 out of 6 of our bags indeed were at the Rarotongan Airport. We walked down one flight to the baggage claim area for the closest bathroom and, lo and behold, ran smack into Ed Williams rolling his briefcase/suitcase and going home! Suprisingly, it was not even 6 pm, so he must have been leaving early for some reason. My greatest delight was the look on his face as we engulfed him, stating his assistant already gave us the message.
At least the Sheraton Airport van was free, so we returned and went swimming. Jim had absolutely NO clothes while Rita had put a few things in a daypack including a new pair of swim trunks for Art. Art went swimming in his shorts and tee shirt partly to wash them. Jim used Art's swim trunks. Both Rita and I had bathing suits in our daypacks. We practiced swimming underwater, holding our breath to sink so our neutral buoyancy would be good when we were dive assuming we ever went diving, of course. I never could get to the bottom but Jim and Art went down like stones. Underwater swimming helped me calm my panic when putting my face in the water. We even practiced somersaults, Jim getting up to 8 without drowning, although just barely. A soak in the hot tub and we were ready for relaxation.
Since we didn't have any clothes or even a toothbrush, we rented a car for Sunday in the hotel lobby. We then took an evening walk along the streets surrounding the Sheraton and stopped a mini mart store. We bought junk food and some wine and retired to Art and Rita's room to watch a movie.
Sunday breakfast was at Burger King about 2 blocks from the hotel. McDonald's is much better. Returning to the hotel we picked up our red rental car and proceeded to explore LA and our old neighborhoods before buying our clothes. Mom and Dad's house, on San Angelo in the town of Bassett, was loaded with celebrating Mexicans. I believe there was an addition on the house. We slowed just enough to snap a picture before feeling out of place in the neighborhood. The neighborhood and houses are well kept in what seemed an ethnically diverse neighborhood. More than just Mexicans lived there although the area had always been heavily Hispanic.
A few miles from mom's old house, we stopped at K-Mart for clothes. We headed for the sales aisles and bought enough clothes so that we each had at least two changes of clothing. At least we wouldn't have to wear clothes still dam from sink washing. Our search for the Green Burrito for lunch was disappointing. The original Green Burrito in La Puente had been converted into a hamburger place. We stopped at a Carl's Junior that also had a Green Burrito sign The menu did not look like the real Green Burrito so we passed, delaying eating until we got to The Original Pantry in downtown LA.
Proceeding into Pomona, I was surprised to see our first home and neighborhood still standing. I was sure the place would have been demolished for urban renewal or a warehouse. There were less boarded up houses than when we lived there, I think we only saw one. Some yards and houses were maintained well, other's not so well, but none were falling down. Those houses were really cheaply constructed. I guess the good climate helped them to stand.
St. Joseph Catholic Church was in good repair, newly painted, and goodly quantity of people leaving from Mass. The sign stated Mass was in Spanish and Arabic. The ethnic mix was moving along. I passed on seeing Pomona Hospital and we drove to Diamond Bar.
Diamond Bar has gone from quiet rural when we lived there to cacophonous traffic jams and over built housing and shopping. The area is not attractive anymore. Our Allegro condos were in good condition. A Black family is in our old house. The swimming pool was smaller than I remembered. The grounds looked well maintained.
Baldwin Park has matured with less scary areas and more buildings. Jim and my first apartment on Francesquito Blvd, the Villa Capri, were in good condition and repair. That pool also seemed smaller than I remembered. The families gathered in the pool and lawn areas were predominately Hispanic.
The Original Pantry never changed. We got right in and split one steak per couple. The coleslaw was delicious, as were the hash browns. All in all a wonderful place to enjoy a filling lunch.
Back to the Sheraton for swimming, hot tubbing, and relaxing.
Monday, we all took the Sheraton van back to the airport to pick up a bus that dropped us off at the transit station. Tickets came from an automated machine. We boarded to who knows where. Some stops we did not take-- in Watts and questionable neighborhoods. I was looking for cover up makeup for my purple arm blotches from my bleeding disorder. I wanted the blotches covered up for Dan and Jenn's wedding. Finding a stop close to stores was elusive. Our first stop, Redondo Beach, we found a small shopping center with no drug stores. We ate at a Japanese fast food place for lunch then walked the mile or so back to the transit.
Close to the end of the line in Norwalk, we walked another mile and found a drug store. We also found a bakery and bought rolls for the morning so we did not have to eat at Burger King again. Upon leaving the bakery, a helicopter circled low overhead and a police car was parked in the small parking lot with the door open. A police officer armed with a shotgun was standing behind the door for protection. Another 2 patrol cars were on the street in front of the liquor store. I snuck up to take photos. Soon everyone relaxed, as the holdup alarm turned out to be false. I caught up with the police and patrol cars and asked to take their picture with the shotguns; and they agreed!
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