An (old) airline story.
Re: Flight ** ***, Wednesday October 20, 2004
Dear **airline**
I am not a complainer. In fact I go out of my way to praise individuals and organizations, far more than I criticize or complain. However, after possibly the most awful day of traveling I have ever experienced – and I travel a lot – I had to write to you. I should point that I feel slightly uneasy about complaining because the flights were complimentary, as our client on this job was the ****** ****** Fund. In no way would I wish to jeopardize their relationship with your company, but this story is so bad that I thought that a company who is working hard to build a really good airline would like to know of my experience.
On October 20th, I was scheduled to fly with my cameraman from Toronto to Edmonton on your flight *** for a one-day shoot. We arrived at YYZ at 12:50pm for our two o’clock flight. As we were checking in, we were informed that there had been a mechanical problem with the aircraft, and that the flight had been cancelled. It was a small relief to learn that there was a 6:10 pm flight out of Hamilton, and we would be bussed there from Post 10 on the arrivals level at 3:20 pm. This was inconvenient, but better than nothing. We settled in to kill some time.
We arrived at Post 10 at 3:12, to find no-one. Not a soul. We waited an additional 5 minutes, then called your 800 number. We were told that the bus schedule had been changed, that it would now be 4 pm, from that same Post 10. We settled in to blow some more time.
At five minutes to four we joined the gathered passengers at Post 10. No-one from **airline** identified themselves. At 4:15 when the bus had still not arrived, people were getting tired of standing out in the cold. There is no place colder than airports. I finally realized that there was a young man from **airline** in the crowd, but he seemed as bewildered as anyone, did not really identify himself, and did not seem to be making any contribution to the managing of the situation.
The bus – actually busses - arrived at something like 4:20 pm. People by this point were quite agitated, and cold. We piled in.
Now, about the buses. They were not strictly what you might have thought would have been ordered in this situation. They were two small buses of the type used to shuttle air crews to the hotel. These buses were cramped, cold, and uncomfortable, especially considering what came next.
We left the airport via the 401 and hit Highway 403 at around 4:30 pm. Anyone familiar with Toronto traffic knows that highway 403 is a parking lot at rush hour. This point was certainly reinforced on our trip to Hamilton. The 80 km trip was something like 2 hours and 15 minutes. Cold, cramped, terribly boring, and thoroughly frustrating. But, whatever, we’ll jump a flight at Hamilton and be off to Edmonton.
Two thirds of the way to Hamilton, the driver got a call on his cell phone. After he hung up he announced that once we got to Hamilton, we should probably stay on the bus. Apparently there might not be a plane there for us after all. I could not understand why we would push on to Hamilton, another hour or so away, if there was going to be no flight for us when we arrived. It must be a mistake. So press on we did.
We arrived at Hamilton at around 6:45? pm. No-one from **airline** was in evidence to meet the busses or answer any of our now quite-frustrated questions. We went into the airport to try to find out something, and it was another ten minutes before it was clear that we shouldn’t be there. To quote one of your agents “I don’t know why you’re here, as you can see we’re fogged in.” Our plane had apparently diverted to YYZ.
I cannot describe to you in a polite letter the sounds that your passengers made when we were informed that we should get back on those little busses to return to Toronto. To say that there was a lack of enthusiasm among the passengers is putting it about as mildly as it can be put.
So, after some potty breaks, hunting down hot coffee etc., our little caravan headed back to Toronto. In total, around 30 minutes had elapsed in Hamilton. It was now dark, cold, raining like crazy, and the passengers were getting increasingly restless.
The trip back to YYZ was fairly quick. We were traveling against traffic, and it had thinned out anyway. We made good time, but one incident needs reporting. It seems that despite the rain, something on the bus caught fire. The passenger cabin was filled with a harsh, burning-electric-component kind of smell. After all that we had been through already, this was additionally worrisome. Being stranded on the side of the highway on this bus was not an appealing possibility. The bus driver was clearly concerned but uncertain what to do. I think he was becoming a little afraid of the now angry passengers, and announced “I don’t know what that is, but I sure hope we make it to the airport.” He mashed the gas pedal to the floor.
We arrived at Terminal 2 for the second time that day at around 8:15 pm. Cold, hungry, tired, frustrated, and bewildered. That no-one from **airline** met our bus to give us a little help, or encouragement, or support of any kind had me livid. I went into the terminal looking for answers, and was met with a combination of a lack of concern, blank looks and shrugged shoulders. Apparently some tall guy from **airline** knew what was going to happen with us, and would brief the check-in agents. That we were simply expected to once again line up like polite Canadians, after being shuttled around in horrible little buses for nearly four hours, I found to be a deplorable situation. That no-one attempted to address us as a group and offer apologies was totally unacceptable. But what else to do? We lined up.
At the check in, half-hearted apologies were offered. And still - I was amazed to learn - no-one seemed to know what was going on. I felt it unwise to go ahead and check in at this point, without knowing if there would be further delays. If we arrived in Edmonton too late in the evening, our morning’s work would be ruined anyhow. Better to postpone for a few days.
When I asked when our flight would leave, one of your agents said that “it should be about 20 minutes” I gave him my patented cold stare and asked him if he just made that up. The look on his face told me he clearly had. He said he maybe better check. I agreed. A minute later, he returned to tell us that the flight would definitely be leaving in around 45 minutes, at around 9 pm. This would be 7 hours after we were supposed to have taken off in the first place. I thanked him for letting me know.
We checked in. And I will admit we were not asked to pay overage for our heavy case of film lights. At the gate, waiting for us was a case of 24 bags of chips and a crate of orange-juice boxes. The flight was 7 hours late, a group of cranky passengers has just spent 4 hours on a crazy, horrible, unnecessary bus-ride, and we are being offered chips and boxed orange juice as some sort of compensation. By this time I was so tired and frustrated, I could only shake my head. The final touch of irony was the decal beside the door of the aircraft as we reached the end of the jet-way. “One of Canada’s most respected companies,” the decal brightly declared.
Aboard the flight, the flight attendants were really nice. We got to Edmonton very late. After getting our bags, and our rental car, and driving to Edmonton and finding something to eat well after midnight, I finally made it to bed at around 3 am Toronto time. Not the nice evening in Edmonton I had imagined.
Thinking it over, this is definitely my worst day of traveling ever. Only because my cameraman has survived a plane crash in Africa did this day come in second place for worst travel day for him.
In my opinion, **airline** showed very poor management and deplorable customer relations in this case.
There was no foresight. The YYZ staff must have known that the plane was incapacitated as early as 9 am, as I am informed that the aircraft never left Edmonton. Why slightly better bus/busses were not ordered, at a slightly more thoughtful departure time, I cannot imagine. To send three dozen paying customers to Hamilton on those cramped little busses at the height of rush hour on the busiest roadways in North America is simply stupid.
As well, to have sent us to Hamilton to meet a plane that would not arrive is pretty insupportable as well. As one of Canada’s most respected companies, why did you send us to meet a missing plane? Was there no communication with your dispatch system? Surely the aviation weather indicated well ahead of time that Hamilton would be fogged in. It should have been possible to know ahead of time that the horrible four-hour bus trek to Hamilton and back was a waste of my time and that of my fellow passengers.
That no-one from your company seemed informed about our unusual situation, and that no effort was made to meet us, greet us, help us, even inform us at either end of the awful bus trip is inexcusable.
Chips and orange drink? Enough said.
I hope that my letter helps you to make some management changes so that passengers will not have such a terrible time in the future.
Yours truly,
Ritchard Findlay
