What a day. I had a great time in France, but travelling back to Canada was an ordeal. I left my hostel early (6:30am) to ensure I arrived at the airport on time. I took the metro to the Gare du Nord and then the RER train to the airport. I made it with plenty of time to spare. I boarded my plane, and then – to my dismay – learned that we would be taking off an hour late due to de-icing.

I don’t know why my flights were booked so close together. I would have booked a direct flight with Air Canada, but I guess they needed to save money and so they went with a crappy airline. I was basically set up to fail. Even if my flight had arrived in Amsterdam with no problems, my connecting flight would have already started boarding before I arrived. Thus, with the slightest hiccup, I was screwed.

As soon as I arrived in Amsterdam, I bolted off the plane. I ran across the airport like I was a contestant in “The Amazing Race.” And when I arrived at my gate fifteen minutes before the flight was going to take off, those bastards from KLM told me they’d already cancelled my flight to Canada because they knew my flight from Paris was going to come in late. I watched as my plane took off.

They told me it was my own fault that I missed my connecting flight, so they would not bump me up to business class. I’m not sure how that was my fault – I wasn’t flying the plane from Paris. Nevertheless, they re-booked me on a flight to Minnesota and told me that it had already started to board so I’d better run.

I ran. I made it. But first I had to call my parents to tell them about the change in plans. I couldn’t have them arriving at the airport to pick me up, only to discover that I wasn’t on the flight! It’s bad enough that they had to drive all the way to Toronto to pick me up in the first place (but I guess booking me a flight from a city near my home was out of the question). Nope. The KLM people told me I didn’t have time to call them. If I didn’t get on that flight, I was on my own.

I started weeping as I was going through security. My parents would already have been in Toronto for two hours by the time I got to Minnesota, frantic with worry that I wasn’t on my original flight. There were probably ten people rushing me onto that flight, and none would let me make a phone call first. The security woman saw me crying and asked if I was okay. I said, “No. They are forcing me onto this flight against my will, and they won’t let me contact my family.”

Suddenly everything stopped. Suddenly the KLM people were more than willing to let me make a phone call. Their payphones wouldn’t work for me (since my North American credit card didn’t have a chip), so one of the employees even let me use his cell phone to call my mom. I gave her my new flight number, and got on the plane.

I arrived in Minnesota hours after I was supposed to have arrived in Toronto. Then I had to take a tiny airbus to Toronto, forcing back a claustrophobic fit the entire time. By the time I arrived in Toronto, it was after 10pm. My backpack came off the luggage carousel, with the front pocket almost ripped clean off. Thanks a lot, KLM/Air France/Delta/Northwest Airlines.

So today was the travel day from hell. It just goes to show: don’t skimp when you purchase your flights. I didn’t book my own flights; if I had, I would have booked with Air Canada. If I had taken a direct flight with Air Canada, I would have had no such problems. The airport employees and flight attendants would have been respectful, rather than acting like they were doing me favours in rectifying their own mistakes (and maybe “rectifying” is too strong a word). I will never fly with KLM/Delta/Air France again.

The drive home took about an hour, so it was after 11pm when I finally returned. I’d been travelling for almost 24 hours straight. What a HORRIBLE end to my trip.