Auckland or Oakland?

On May 24, 2019, I posted the following caption to Instagram with the above picture.

TL;DR - Auckland, not Oakland. Alaska, not United. Full House forever.

Do you believe in travel angels? I had a horrific time getting from D.C. to San Francisco to Auckland. At one point, a United Airline agent asked, “Where are you going? Oakland? To which I replied, “No, Auckland.” And that took me right back to the Full House episode that I watched when I was 7 when Stephanie and Michelle accidentally got on a flight to Auckland, New Zealand instead of Oakland, which was “right across the bay.”

Shoutout to my very own travel angels:

1. Ash, the @alaskaair agent at DCA, who rebooked my delayed flight at a different airport, put me in a cab and gave me a fighting chance to make my connection (all at no additional cost). You deserve a raise.

2. The retired scientist who blocked the aisle on my rebooked flight, so I could deplane ahead of everyone else and run for my Auckland connection. You have the coolest travel stories.

3. The engineers going to a conference in Auckland who didn’t once complain when I showed up sweating, out of breath, and without shoes right before the boarding doors closed. Thanks for your extra pillows and compassion when I woke you up every time you fell asleep to go to the bathroom.

My Instagram caption told all the best parts of a much longer story that spanned roughly 18 hours, and I think that it's time I put it in writing somewhere.

My Departure from D.C.

On May 18, 2019, I graduated from Georgetown University with all the typical festivities that came with graduations pre-COVID-19. I had booked my flight to depart for New Zealand just days later on May 22. I planned to pack up my entire life in D.C., put it in a storage unit, and set off for Oceania and Southeast Asia without missing a beat.

I managed to do everything perfectly right up until I walked into Ronald Reagan National Airport. My original flight was departing from DCA to SFO to AKL. I would leave D.C. at 5:20 PM, arrive in San Francisco at 8:25 PM, leave on a connection at 11:10 PM, and then arrive in Auckland two “days” later at 7:20 AM on May 24. I would skip May 23, 2019, entirely.

However, right as I stepped into the airport, I got a notification that my initial flight from D.C. to San Francisco was delayed. Initially, I was unperturbed and optimistic that the customer service agents may already have a solution. I was flying Alaskan Airlines between D.C. and San Francisco and United Airlines between San Francisco and New Zealand.

I approached the Alaskan Airlines desk and immediately overheard the conversation in front of me. It seemed that the passenger they were helping was also heading to Auckland, and they were telling him that he was unequivocally out of luck. Because of the delay, he would miss the connecting flight to Auckland. Additionally, because it was a United connection (not Alaskan), there wasn’t anything they could do.

Starting to panic, I waited my turn but clarified the information. I’m not quite sure what clicked between me and the agent helping me named Ash (maybe I just looked panicked), but he began offering solutions that the passenger in front of me was not offered. He said he would check the one other flight that was headed out of Dulles International Airport as the last resort.

Within seconds, he had rebooked my flight at no cost to me, handed me a cab voucher for a taxi between DCA and Dulles, and given me a fighting chance to make my flight. The connection would still be incredibly tight at the San Francisco airport, but I went from having no chance to potentially making it. The next 6 hours would be crucial.

My Journey to Dulles

I had never used a cab voucher before, and I’ve never used one since. It was printed on what looked like an airline ticket and all I had to do was hand it to a taxi driver at the stand downstairs to get a taxi. In the backseat, I called my credit card company, Chase, with who I had booked the flight. I wanted to know if I had any travel interruption protection under them if I missed the flight.

While they weren’t super helpful — apparently you have to actually miss the flight before they’ll give you any information — my taxi driver was evidently listening. At one point, he looked at me in the mirror and said, “Wait, what time is your flight? Are you going to miss it?”

He even sped up briefly before I quickly reassured him that I wasn’t going to miss the flight I was driving to right then but potentially my connection. Still, I was heartened by the army of people I seemed to have who were committed to me making this flight.

When I arrived at Dulles, I went to the United Airlines counter to see if I could get my second boarding pass. I knew I would need it when I was at the gate on the other side, and I wasn’t going to have time to stop and get one with the tight connection. Often, with international flights, they want to see your passport in person to check you in, so I was hoping the customer service agent could help me with that process now.

The first customer service agent I talked to looked at me like I had three heads. I explained that I was going to Auckland but that I had a tight connection and needed a boarding pass for that flight. She was clicking on her computer, and finally, she looked up and said, “I’m sorry. Where did you say you were going? Oakland?”

At that moment, I was not only reminded of the Full House episode where Stephanie and Michelle accidentally fly to New Zealand instead of Oakland, which is “right across the bay,” but I realized that someone could actually mix those two up! Seriously, why would I be flying to Oakland from San Francisco? Wouldn’t you just drive?!

After meeting Ash, my real-life travel angel, this United Airlines agent really wasn’t doing it for me. Eventually, she ended up calling over a second agent who helped me get the boarding pass I needed, but I didn’t leave that counter with a lot of confidence, especially after causing that much confusion.

While I can’t remember the exact flight time, I will note that my new flight wasn’t all that different in time from my original flight. In fact, it was probably only 20-30 minutes later than my original flight, but it happened to arrive approximately 30-45 minutes before the delayed flight, which allowed me a brief window to potentially make the connection.

As I sat in Dulles Airport, I grabbed food, and I thought about what I would do if I missed it. I continued to peruse Chase’s travel interruption rules, and apparently, I would have to take a flight the next day at the same time. Where was I supposed to stay in San Francisco last minute? What was I supposed to do with my stuff if I wanted to explore the city during the day? I was endlessly wrapped up in scenarios, and I hadn’t even gotten on my first flight yet.

My Flight to San Francisco

I finally boarded my flight to San Francisco. Thankfully, I was seated right around Row 13, which meant I would be able to make a semi-quick exit during the deplaning process.

Thanks to T-Mobile, I had Wi-Fi on the flight, I attempted to look up the airport map of SFO to see if I could figure out which route I should take once my flight landed. Unfortunately, the map showed a lot of construction, and the terminal I landed in and the terminal I needed to go to were interrupted by that construction. It was unclear whether I would be able to circumvent that construction easily or if I would need to take some sort of shuttle.

On a five-hour flight, analyzing and overanalyzing your next 30 minutes is not what you want to be doing. Fortunately, I sat next to a very kind older man who struck up some non-awkward conversation. He asked where I was traveling to, and I told him an abbreviated version of my travel struggles that day. He told me he was a scientist, and he explained some of the travels he had done to Europe, the Middle East, and Africa. Hoping for more adventures in my future, I loved hearing these stories to pass the time.

As we descended and started to taxi, he wished me well and told me that he would stand up and block the aisle for me, so that I could get out of the middle seat and get a head start.

My Connection to Auckland

My run through the San Francisco Airport to make my Auckland flight was one of the most chaotic experiences of my travel career. There’s no other way to describe it. I was sprinting — utterly hauling ass through the airport with 35 minutes until boarding was complete. I originally tried to run right through the terminal with construction, which would lead me to where my gate was. However, due to the construction I anticipated, I ended up having to exit the airport and get on a shuttle to the terminal where my flight was.

Sweating on the bus, all I could do was watch the clock. I knew I would have to reenter security, and the clock was counting down slowly but surely. As long as there wasn’t a line, I could potentially make it.

As I rushed to the security gates, the most dismal sight met my eyes.

Even with my TSA pre-check, there was a 30-minute line standing between me and my flight, and there simply wasn’t enough time for me to wait. I stood at the back of the line, tears stinging my eyes, and knew I was about to miss my flight.

At that moment, I quite shamelessly decided to use my very real tears and panic to my advantage. One by one, I went to those standing in front of me, and I asked to skip them because I was going to miss my flight. What else did I have to lose but my pride and $700?

Most people avoided my gaze while letting me skip, but I was soon running out of steam. It was embarrassing, and I had only progressed about five people. Then, a kind man saw my struggle after one particularly awkward interaction, and he allowed me to skip him, which made the line more than half as short. Instead of a 30-minute security line, I only ended up waiting about 7 minutes in security.

Unfortunately, TSA at this particular checkpoint was making everyone (including pre-check passengers) take out their electronics and toiletries and remove their shoes. I frantically emptied my bag and tore off my shoes, throwing everything onto the belt.

Once through the scanner, I scooped up the contents of the bin in my arms (including my shoes) and ran barefoot through the airport with 10 minutes to go before the doors closed. I had no idea how far my gate was, and the terminal was large.

I finally arrived at an empty gate completing boarding. A flight attendant looked up at me as I skidded to a halt, panting, and said, “You made it‼”

I was ushered onto a packed plane where I was met with yet another middle seat. A young man jumped up and helped me with my bag as I all but threw everything else I was holding under my seat and sat down, still huffing and puffing. The energy around me was enthusiastic, and I quickly sensed I was sitting in the middle of a group.

They told me they were engineers off to a conference in Auckland. They were cheerful, excited, and chatty, and I was sweaty, exhausted, and moody. I could barely tell them my name let alone recount my last 6 hours, but I did my best to fill them in so they knew why I was the way that I was. They were sweet and sympathetic, and they offer me their pillows when I told them I was planning to sleep the entire time (which I did).

I proceeded to sleep for the next 13 hours, waking only to eat and go to the bathroom. It just so happened that my bathroom breaks always coincided with when my new friend next to me would fall asleep. Quite the way to repay him for his kindness.

After 13 hours, my flight landed on May 24. Everything went exactly as planned, but those first 18 hours started off my trip around the world with a bang.

Final Thoughts

My whirlwind arrival to New Zealand left me with one resounding lesson: travel angels are everywhere. They popped up several times in this story: Ash, the taxi driver, the retired scientist, and my engineer friends. They’ll likely never know the difference they made in my experience, but I look back and know that I would've had a different outcome if I hadn’t encountered them in my travels.

Read about another travel angel of mine in A Bumpy Mumbai Arrival. 

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