And just like that, we were ushered back into a long line of passengers with “issues.”
Juggling luggage and children, we waited over an hour while an agent struggled to reissue our tickets, followed by another hour in the security line. We were finally called to board at 10 p.m., but at the gate I looked through a window and noticed something ominous: The lights of the plane were off. Our flight had, after all, been canceled.
As angry passengers targeted the agents, my husband and I went into battle mode, putting all our energy into finding a place for the children, delirious with exhaustion, to sleep. Nearby hotels were booked, but at the Loews Chicago O’Hare Hotel, my husband pleaded our case, offering to pay whatever it took for a reserve room. After a tense deliberation, we were offered a room for $700.
While the children slept, we huddled in the bathroom over our phones, searching for flights. Then, miraculously, I received an email from Swiss saying we had been rebooked through Copenhagen. The journey would be longer by six hours, but at that point it seemed like a minor hurdle.
At Home, at Last
In Copenhagen, we were met with a massive security line caused by the new entry-exit system, which has created significantly longer processing times across European airports. While inching forward in the zigzagging line, my daughter said, “Mommy, my tummy is hurting.” Then, suddenly, she vomited. When we got back from the bathroom, I begged the security agent to let us go to the front of the line. Other passengers shouted at us, saying they had 20 minutes to make their connection, but when I pointed to the pool of vomit my daughter left behind, their snarling ceased.
After a short, uneventful flight from Copenhagen, we were back in Geneva at last, only to be greeted with temperatures over 100 degrees: The fourth heat wave in Western Europe since May had just arrived.
