So, at 6:55 we got up. Our breakfast consisted of yogurt we bought last night and granola bars from home. It would be ridiculous to take the latter back. I hoped that my stretches would keep down the cramping from all of today's sitting.
We checked out and immediately got in the taxi that had been prearranged last night. At 8:16, we were off for the train station that we'd arrived at just yesterday. When we were let out across the street from the station at 8:25, where we'd found the taxis the day before, I was surprised that the fare was higher at 15 Euros, even though the trip was shorter in time duration. I wondered, whether it was because we'd booked it.
I decided that it might be a good idea to run up the stairs to the WC, after we passed through the checkpoint for tickets. It cost 0,70 Euros, but it gave me one of the SaniFair tickets, like they have at rest stops in Germany. I didn't take it into the shop there, because I didn't want to take the time, because I expected us to have to haul the luggage up the stairs to our track. However, happily, there was an escalator at that track. I stayed with the luggage, while my husband went into the shop there to spend the ticket, hopefully on a Milka bar with Oreos, that we'd seen on a television commercial last night. Unfortunately, that shop wouldn't accept the ticket. So, he bought nothing.
I noticed this cool building on the other side of the train station:
We didn't know where check was in relation to where we were. In June, the driver had dropped us off at the Delta check-in area. Now, we were near where we'd exited the baggage claim area. As we went in search of a way up to the next level, we came upon a busy supermarket. My husband K insisted on going in to buy cheese. I knew that there was a special price for three up in the Amsterdam shop on the other side of security. I suspected the price here was the same or even better, but saw no reason to buy it now. I was quite surprised that he put his one cheese in his suitcase. I tried to dissuade him, saying that it would stay cooler in the main cabin, he didn't know how long it would sit on the tarmac, etc., but all to no avail. Sigh.
At 9:50, we were in the line for KLM to drop our baggage, because Delta doesn't actually have a desk here. They code share with KLM and KLM does their check in. When it was finally our turn, my suitcase went up on the scale first, because we remembered that it had been the heavier on the way over. The weight was fine. The clerk mixed up the passports, however, and my husband's name went on my bag. My bag disappeared behind a metal door before my husband's bag was even up on the scale. His bag got my name, of course. I stuck the baggage claim tickets in my purse and we were done there at 10. I was a little concerned about the time we were told to go to the Delta gate, which we knew was their actual security check in, but I was assured it was fine.
At 10:03, we entered the rather lengthy security line. It moved well, however. My bag got extra swabbing, but it was fine and we moved on at 10:16. Today, we were sent to the self-serve passport kiosk, which had not happened in June. We each were scanned and matched to our passport photos, before stepping up to passport control to have the passport stamped. We were all finished at 10:21.
Now knowing this area fairly well, we headed for the Amsterdam shop. I checked the prices against another shop, but they were the same. We got 6 packages of Dutch stroopwafel (waffle cookies with caramel in the middle) in different flavors for gifts, as well as the three cheeses. These cheeses were all Edam, but one was plain, one had herbs and one had garlic. We'd keep 2 of the 4 cheeses we'd bought today and give 2 to our daughters. I also bought a keychain that I could pull apart to use the pieces for my Dutch dollhouses.
We stopped at Amsterdam Bread Co., where we'd had a delicious meal in June, for K to buy a sandwich and Coke to take up to our gate. He got a ham sandwich for 6,20 Euros and a Coke Zero for 3,55 Euros. I will not miss overpaying for Coke.
At 11:10, we were in the Delta line at D1. It was far more crowded than in June and I became a little concerned about how slowly it was moving. Many of the desks were manned, and I was irritated to note that a clerk who was far from the head of the line took people near him out of the line to check them. That was not fair to the people who were ahead of them. Finally, it was our turn to answer the same old security questions about our luggage. They put a colored sticker on the back of each of our passports and sent us to our real gate, D49, at 11:25.
It was quite a hike to the gate and we really hustled, arriving at 11:33. That gave us a little time to eat, use the restroom and for me to take Dramamine.
Just after we pushed back from the gate at 1, I started watching Being George Clooney, a really good documentary about voice actors for foreign films, who dub for all sorts of actors, including Clooney. They really get paid rather poorly and receive little recognition for their work. However, Robert De Niro, I think it was, insisted on doing the dubbing for his film, when it was done in Italian. The audience refused to accept it, because they were used to the local voice actor's work. I remember a poster in German for one of the Ice Age movies that actually named the guy doing Sid's voice. I was well into the movie, when we took off at 1:30.
About 2:15, the cabin crew brought around wine and snacks. I started to watch My Cousin Vinny, but I couldn't stand what I was seeing. So, I switched to An American in Paris, which I've never seen before. Oh, I've seen the dance, but not the whole movie. It does not hold up. There is no way it would receive an Academy Award today. There are too many plot holes; Gene Kelly is unconvincing as a struggling artist. I hated the way his character treated the woman, who tried to help his career. But, at least I've seen it.
By the time they got to our row with food at 3:10, they were running out of things. K and I both wanted pasta, but they were down to just one of those. He kindly took chicken, since I'd had it on the way over. Both meals weren't bad.
Around that time, I was watching the animated movie Early Man. I thought it was pretty good. When that was over, I watched Sandra Bullock and Melissa McCarthy in The Heat. It was really funny.
At 7:20, they gave us a sort of dinner. Once again, they ran out of choices by the time they got to us. It was a rather unimpressive warm sandwich, but also a Dove ice cream bar, which I love.
Most of the luggage was already on the carousel. We found K's, but mine was nowhere in sight. This was crazy-mine went through before his. We were told we'd have to talk to Delta. When we got to their desk area just after the last Border Patrol guard, there were rope lines and as we went to get in one, we were asked why we going there by a Delta agent. We explained and she said to go up to report it. We were then stopped by a male Delta agent, who's about to tell us the same thing, when my husband tried to tell him that we knew that. "If you'll let me finish, sir,..." he said not at all kindly. K had not been rude, but this guy was.
Finally at the desk, the woman behind the desk started searching in the computer for the bag. All she could find was that it had not come off the plane. (Evidently, the luggage tags are scanned, when they come off.) It wasn't on the plane, but she didn't know where it was. I was getting more and more upset and closer to tears. My expensive orthotics were in that bag! She really had no idea, where the bag was, but said we couldn't file a claim until our final destination. She was truly puzzled and had even called over another agent. This did not make me feel better.
It was 4:40 now and we had to get into the security line to go out to go to our next flight. This made me even more upset, because we did not have our TSA Pre clearance for this leg. So, I was going to have to take out my CPAP machine, which they even announced to everyone, and take off my shoes. Walking without shoes is a no-no for me and not comfortable after sitting for so long.
When I got up to the machine, I asked just how much of the CPAP they wanted out. Just the air handling part, which struck me as dumb; the electronics are in the cord and its adapter box. Then, they decided they had to swab every single chocolate bar, cookie box and cheese. I mentioned that this had been done in Amsterdam, although, I didn't say that it was a more general swabbing. When I said something about my feet, one TSA agent was quite kind and she told me to tell them next time and they'd just swab my shoes. Seriously more pleasant people than Delta.
Out on the main concourse, we took a moment to enjoy their playful fountain and to note the tram high overhead.
I texted the daughters about the luggage and put it on Facebook. My older daughter immediately replied, asking if I'd tweeted at Delta. Evidently a friend of hers did and got quick results. It couldn't hurt, so I did, complaining about the missing bag. Within moments, I got a tweet expressing sorrow over this and asking me to private message them my luggage tag number. Luckily, a link to private message was provided, because I didn't have a clue how to do so. Within minutes, she-even though there were only initials, I decided it was a she- sent me a message back, saying the bag had been put on the bag after ours, the direct flight to Orlando, and I might be able to pick it up, when I got there!
I thanked her most heartily and gave her a glowing review, when Delta send me a message later to check on how I was taken care of. I also told them about the less-than helpful desk agent and the rude male agent. I reported the happy news to the daughters and, when I put it on Facebook, I gave my older daughter full credit for playing a millennial and teaching an older person a social media thing.
My husband came back, having found the dean of his college, who used to be the head of his department. He was going to be on our same flight on his way home from a conference. We chatted a bit and he recommended food places further back on the concourse.
We wound up at one of these, Bigalora, at 6:55. We ordered a wood roasted vegetable pizza for $13.79 and 2 Coke Zeros. It was a tasty pizza. Then, my husband felt I needed cheering up and ordered me a scoop of chocolate gelato. It took an incredibly long time to arrive; we almost cancelled it. It was good, but more on the order of ice cream than gelato. We hurried out after paying at 7:38.
We landed at OIA at 10:33. When we were coming down the escalator to baggage claim, I could see my suitcase sitting in front of the Delta unclaimed baggage office. Hurrah! Someone was in there on the phone, but the bag was just sitting there unsecured. I asked a Delta guy, who was there at baggage claim, if I could just take it. He didn't even check my claim ticket. I then saw that the lock was gone. I have had that TSA-approved lock for years and years. Delta opened just two years ago. The guy said, I should write and complain and demand back some of the Delta miles I spent to get this trip. I never did, because I just felt it was a losing battle. When I got home, I found a card inside from TSA saying they'd directed Delta to open it, because it was unaccompanied. Of course it was! Those idiots didn't put it on my plane. This is all because Delta doesn't do its own check-ins in Amsterdam. I also found the cut lock in the front pocket. Just plain disgusted.
Our younger daughter picked us up at the curb outside of baggage claim, rather than parking. We had a good chat on the way home, arriving by 11:30. I gave her her cheese, before she went back home.
It really was a good trip. It was just the last hours of it that were "challenging".
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