Flight day, Zurich to Detroit: Bikes on Swiss public transport
My last full day in Switzerland I mostly sat and chatted. There were logistics to deliberate. Like how the bike and were getting to the airport. One of the reasons I went back to Untervasser was because I left there my bike box.
But how was I alone to manage this--on a bus and 2 trains?
It was decided, I would buy a bike box at the airport. Then I had to cut up into little pieces the cardboard box my friend had saved. I felt a bit stupid because it took an hour and then it cost to deposit into the town trash receptacle. At one point when nearly done destroying the box, Monica asked if I was okay doing this. Before I could answer (because it was way to late to change my mind) she clarified: Continuing to tear up while she fixed dinner?
We also looked into my ticket to get to the airport. I would either have to put the box or tix on my CC as I was running out of Franc. Anyway, I couldn't buy the ticket at the office, something wasn't working. They said to get it on the bus. My journey to the airport would begin at 8:12 a m
Then I used Franc to buy chocolate bars and cheese to take home. We also managed to hike UP a mountain and loop back. After dinner we were both tired and went to bed at 8 pm.
In the a.m. I awoke to discover my flight had been cancelled. Though to be fair I hadn't quite realized it. My daughter had written asking (again) for flight details and I clicked on an email from Iceland Air and sent it to her. But, I noticed the destination and times were different. I rechecked my messages, and that's when I saw a slew of messages re: cancellation, sorry, rebooking, and rebooked. Wow. Ok. My new flight would leave an hour earlier.
When Monica and I got on the bus, the driver didn't want to sell me a ticket. It was confusing. He seemed distracted. Then after a few stops ordered all of us off. Apparently there was a mechanical problem. The Swiss pride themselves on their trains etc running on time. What's happening? I asked. We were immediately put on another bus and the driver made up time, bringing us to the train station in WatterWil on time. While on the bus, Monica pulled up the ticket on her phone and I took a pic of the QR code and paid her from my dwindling Franc stash. A ticket for me and all day pass for the bike. Monica helped me get to my platform, my train arrived, and I tearfully said goodbye. Let's not wait another 25 years.
I rode to my next station and made the transfer to another train. This was a bigger one, with a bathroom right next to bike storage. Yay!
Once at the terminal I had to find Safe Bag to buy the pricey box.
Unbelievably I found it without too much trouble. They said I could buy a new box or a used one for wayyy less. Yes, please. I disassembled and packed a few things around it. The guys weighed it and it was under 50 pounds. They asked me which airlines and Iceland Air was right across from them
That's when I discovered my flight had been switched to Swiss Air. Ok I had to maneuver the bike on and off the elevator because the doors were too narrow to accommodate the box. Suddenly the Safe Bag guy was there again to help me.
I found the counter for "bulky items" and the supervisor said he wasn't supposed to check me in. I also told him I had no boarding pass because of all the switcheroos. Remember, these are the people who run by rules. He checked me in anyway, boarding passes and all. I went to take the bike off the cart, and 2 guys raced to assist. Ok.
At security I forgot about my Swiss Army knife and was pulled out of line. Oh,no. But, they measured it and (likely tried to cut something with it, very dull) and told me to go on. All this to say, with all the changes etc, I made it to my gate, with 40 minutes to spare
Swiss Air is the lap of luxury. Great meal (none was offered on Iceland Air), plenty of liquids, hot tea etc. Even ice cream for a snack.
I'm so grateful for travelling mercies. This whole trip has been a marvel.
++++
Here's where my narrative turns sad or insane--depending. After a nearly 10 hour flight, 400 people disembarked to terminal 5 at O'Hare under construction: Tyvek walls, foil covered electrical, plastic sheeting, to wind through in a single line to wait for up to 2 hours to get through customs/passport control. INTO MY OWN COUNTRY! Two hours between connections sounds like plenty until you wait in that line, are told you must collect your luggage and rebook it=a bike box. Clock still ticking, I manage all that. Hurry to the tram to take me 3 terminals over to one. Race to United to get a boarding pass. Then go through TSA screening again (did security in Switzerland), and surrender my pocket hours after the agent literally dumped everything out of NY bag and then walked away.
By now I'd been awake for 24 hours. SO I began to cry, out of self pity, as I collected my trashed belongings, restuffed my bag, and told myself: you have 5 minutes: Do this thing. I ran like hell. Furthermore, United concourse C was the furthest one. My gate a bit farther. I made it just in time to hear the agent say she'd begun to give my seat away to stand by. Indeed, there were like 8 bros waiting to get on. No way! I told her to undo it and get my seat back. I got on before doors closed.
At Detroit airport my bike box came through with the contents herniating out. At ORD TSA had opened the box for a security check and decided not to retape it.
It was after midnight when I got home, morning in Switzerland, and I was beyond exhaustion from traveling.
But how was I alone to manage this--on a bus and 2 trains?
It was decided, I would buy a bike box at the airport. Then I had to cut up into little pieces the cardboard box my friend had saved. I felt a bit stupid because it took an hour and then it cost to deposit into the town trash receptacle. At one point when nearly done destroying the box, Monica asked if I was okay doing this. Before I could answer (because it was way to late to change my mind) she clarified: Continuing to tear up while she fixed dinner?
We also looked into my ticket to get to the airport. I would either have to put the box or tix on my CC as I was running out of Franc. Anyway, I couldn't buy the ticket at the office, something wasn't working. They said to get it on the bus. My journey to the airport would begin at 8:12 a m
Then I used Franc to buy chocolate bars and cheese to take home. We also managed to hike UP a mountain and loop back. After dinner we were both tired and went to bed at 8 pm.
In the a.m. I awoke to discover my flight had been cancelled. Though to be fair I hadn't quite realized it. My daughter had written asking (again) for flight details and I clicked on an email from Iceland Air and sent it to her. But, I noticed the destination and times were different. I rechecked my messages, and that's when I saw a slew of messages re: cancellation, sorry, rebooking, and rebooked. Wow. Ok. My new flight would leave an hour earlier.
When Monica and I got on the bus, the driver didn't want to sell me a ticket. It was confusing. He seemed distracted. Then after a few stops ordered all of us off. Apparently there was a mechanical problem. The Swiss pride themselves on their trains etc running on time. What's happening? I asked. We were immediately put on another bus and the driver made up time, bringing us to the train station in WatterWil on time. While on the bus, Monica pulled up the ticket on her phone and I took a pic of the QR code and paid her from my dwindling Franc stash. A ticket for me and all day pass for the bike. Monica helped me get to my platform, my train arrived, and I tearfully said goodbye. Let's not wait another 25 years.
I rode to my next station and made the transfer to another train. This was a bigger one, with a bathroom right next to bike storage. Yay!
Once at the terminal I had to find Safe Bag to buy the pricey box.
Unbelievably I found it without too much trouble. They said I could buy a new box or a used one for wayyy less. Yes, please. I disassembled and packed a few things around it. The guys weighed it and it was under 50 pounds. They asked me which airlines and Iceland Air was right across from them
That's when I discovered my flight had been switched to Swiss Air. Ok I had to maneuver the bike on and off the elevator because the doors were too narrow to accommodate the box. Suddenly the Safe Bag guy was there again to help me.
I found the counter for "bulky items" and the supervisor said he wasn't supposed to check me in. I also told him I had no boarding pass because of all the switcheroos. Remember, these are the people who run by rules. He checked me in anyway, boarding passes and all. I went to take the bike off the cart, and 2 guys raced to assist. Ok.
At security I forgot about my Swiss Army knife and was pulled out of line. Oh,no. But, they measured it and (likely tried to cut something with it, very dull) and told me to go on. All this to say, with all the changes etc, I made it to my gate, with 40 minutes to spare
Swiss Air is the lap of luxury. Great meal (none was offered on Iceland Air), plenty of liquids, hot tea etc. Even ice cream for a snack.
I'm so grateful for travelling mercies. This whole trip has been a marvel.
++++
Here's where my narrative turns sad or insane--depending. After a nearly 10 hour flight, 400 people disembarked to terminal 5 at O'Hare under construction: Tyvek walls, foil covered electrical, plastic sheeting, to wind through in a single line to wait for up to 2 hours to get through customs/passport control. INTO MY OWN COUNTRY! Two hours between connections sounds like plenty until you wait in that line, are told you must collect your luggage and rebook it=a bike box. Clock still ticking, I manage all that. Hurry to the tram to take me 3 terminals over to one. Race to United to get a boarding pass. Then go through TSA screening again (did security in Switzerland), and surrender my pocket hours after the agent literally dumped everything out of NY bag and then walked away.
By now I'd been awake for 24 hours. SO I began to cry, out of self pity, as I collected my trashed belongings, restuffed my bag, and told myself: you have 5 minutes: Do this thing. I ran like hell. Furthermore, United concourse C was the furthest one. My gate a bit farther. I made it just in time to hear the agent say she'd begun to give my seat away to stand by. Indeed, there were like 8 bros waiting to get on. No way! I told her to undo it and get my seat back. I got on before doors closed.
At Detroit airport my bike box came through with the contents herniating out. At ORD TSA had opened the box for a security check and decided not to retape it.
It was after midnight when I got home, morning in Switzerland, and I was beyond exhaustion from traveling.
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