It was almost perfect. Historic masterpieces in Rome, frolicking in the fields of Tuscany, wine overlooking the sprawling rooftops of Florence, and the grande finale of our romantic European getaway: a coveted Andrea Bocelli concert, which just happened to be in Sofia, Bulgaria. Although Sofia was not “on our way” geographically from Italy back home to the Netherlands, budget airlines in Europe make country-hopping a breeze. It was my idea to hop over to Bulgaria for the opportunity to see a legendary performance. But something I typically never do when planning a trip is return the day before having to jump straight back into a full-on work schedule. A minimum of 24 hours to “recover” energetically from a trip is essential, but I figured our flight would get us home early enough on that Sunday to provide ample rest. I was very wrong, and I failed to consider the other key reason I never plan a trip with such little wiggle room: What if the flight gets cancelled or something? “Unlikely,” I thought to myself as I hit the Confirm Payment button for the final plane ticket.
The majority of our journey was nothing short of magical.
It all began with a train ride from our small Dutch town to Brussels, Belgium, where we would board our first flight to Rome. We were giddy with anticipation of the food, wine, and sights to be seen. I had been to Italy many times before and even lived there during my university studies for an extended period of time, but it would be my partner’s first time in Italy. In our day-to-day life, he is the leader in showing me the ropes of navigating Holland, where he has lived his whole life and I am the newbie. But this time, it would be my turn to translate, explain Italian nuances, and show him “la dolce vita.” I felt a sense of responsibility for ensuring that the trip went smoothly. It would be both of our first times in Bulgaria, so there we would be on equal footing.
Rome was a success! We made wishes in the Trevi Fountain, roamed around the Colosseum and ancient ruins, and walked miles and miles through Vatican City, appreciating artistic masterpieces by Michelangelo, Raphael, and many other greats. Then we took a train from Rome to Tuscany, staying in a rustic farmhouse with a luxurious pool and vineyards as far as the eye could see. Another successful leg. Next, we spent a day in Florence, where I used to live. I know the city like the back of my hand, so I carefully packed all of my favorite places into a single day of exploring.
Then, we took our second flight to Sofia. We arrived late in the evening, but were greeted with a lovely surprise: a bottle of champagne and chocolates in our room, as the hotel was brand new and working hard to earn those crucial 5-star reviews. The following day, we went on a historic walking tour, learned the pretty dark history of the city during the world wars, and ate at a typical Bulgarian restaurant before heading to the Andrea Bocelli concert. The concert was wonderful; we had a decent view of the legend himself and excellent acoustics. The only downside was the unexpectedly cold summer evening, and we hadn’t realized the venue would be outdoors, in a sports arena with no roof. We braved the cold to enjoy the night and returned to the hotel for one last sleep before our very early morning flight back home.
Our alarms rang promptly at 4:30 a.m., and we were dressed and in the taxi less than thirty minutes later. The airport was only 15 minutes away, and our departure time was 6:45 a.m., so we felt we had plenty of time. No bags to check in, carry-on only, traveling light, no worries. However, when we arrived, we could tell this airport wasn’t as organized as others we’d visited on the trip. It was crowded for the early morning and relatively unclear where to go. All we saw was one big line. Could this be for us? We asked an airport worker if it was the line to the airport security checkpoint, and she said yes.
To the back of the line we went.
The line seemed to be moving quickly, but everyone around us seemed surprised at its length and tensions were rising. We weren’t worried. Others in front and behind us had earlier departure times, as early as 6:10 a.m. I was worried for them more than myself. Some individuals took the liberty of cutting the line, and others weren’t happy about it. “We’re all in the same circumstance!” one person in line protested. “Then YOU should also be concerned, and understand why I’m trying to get through the line in time!” another replied frantically. The energy was hostile, but my partner and I remained calm. I’m usually more stressed in these situations, and had I been alone, I probably would have discreetly cut the line too, but my partner’s calm demeanor had a contagious effect on me.
There was a girl in front of us traveling with two small kittens. She had arrived with more than enough time, concerned that her cats might take longer to pass security. She kindly let us go ahead of her since our flight was earlier than hers, though we didn’t think we needed the gesture. Little did we know that our fate would be decided by mere seconds.
As I said, the massive line seemed to be moving quickly—until we reached the “front” of the line and realized there was an entire second floor with a continuation of the line, even longer than the first. That’s when I privately started to worry, but there was nothing I could do. I didn’t want to see my partner go head-to-head with the burly Bulgarian men ahead of us in line. Cutting was not an option, and again, we were all in the same boat—or so we thought.
When we finally made it through security, which took about an hour, we checked the screen and saw that our flight was “boarding.” We rushed to the gate, but I wasn’t too worried because the screen didn’t say “final call.” However, when we arrived at the gate—two minutes after seeing the “boarding” notice and well before the flight’s scheduled takeoff—the gate agent had just closed the boarding gates in front of us. The door to the plane was still open, but the agents informed us that the “system was closed for boarding,” a call that apparently couldn’t be reversed.
As for that “everyone’s in the same boat” idea? The earlier flights waited for their passengers, but our budget airline did not. As our stomachs sank, we realized that we were the ones who should have panicked, but we couldn’t have known this would happen to our flight alone. A couple of others missed the flight too, and we were all told to exit the gates and go to the customer service desk.
Upon learning we missed the flight, I started crying. I was overwhelmed by the thought that my partner wouldn’t be able to rest properly before work, that we’d likely have to pay a large sum for another flight, and that we might not even get home that night.
At the customer service desk, the worker kindly informed us of a policy that allowed us to rebook the same flight for only 125 euros each if we did so within an hour of the original flight. Great news! Oh, but the next flight wasn’t for another six days. Never mind! While the agent was talking to my partner, I started browsing flights on my phone. The options were limited and expensive. I even considered staying behind so my partner could make it home in time for work, but I knew he wouldn’t like that idea. We had to stick together.
We sat down with my laptop and scoured the internet for the fastest route home. I grew increasingly frustrated that our flight didn’t wait for us. On all the other flights we’d taken, the gates didn’t close exactly when the ticket said they would. It felt almost vindictive. I couldn’t shake the feeling.
Meanwhile, my partner stayed calm, searching for solutions and comforting me. “It’s okay,” he kept saying. “We shouldn’t have come to Bulgaria. This was so unnecessary. It was my idea. This is all my fault,” I cried.
“It’s okay, don’t worry. I’ll get the flights back home for us,” he reassured me, a real-life angel.
Meanwhile, the devil on my shoulder whispered, “Maybe that plane is going to crash,” as if that would be a redemptive end to the story, that we’d dodged a disaster by God’s favor. When the plane's status showed "Landed" and 20 minutes early it made my blood boil even more. The flight could have waited those 20 minutes FOR US and still been on time! Argh!!! I couldn’t shake the resentment.
If we weren't being protected from a plane crash, I wondered if I was really being punished. I thought back to my moral choices over the past few days. “Babe, do you think this could be karma for stealing that piece of fruit from the hotel buffet?” I asked. “No,” he replied, unfazed, while steadily rebooking our emergency route home. He found us new flights: from Sofia to Vienna, and then from Vienna to Amsterdam, with a final train ride back home. We’d arrive home around 10 p.m. instead of noon. No time to unpack or rest, but it was the best we could find on short notice.
As angry as I was, I was even more frustrated that I couldn’t shake the anger and regret. I felt it pulsing through me and bringing down the whole aura around me. I thought, we could have set the alarm for 4 instead of 4:30. We even could have gone straight to the airport after the concert, 7 hours early and one less hotel stay. In my irrational turmoil, I reached out to a good friend of mine who travels even more than I do asking for a travel fail story to make me feel better about mine. The more you travel, I suppose, the more likely you accumulate some travel horror stories. And she delivered! She had a few stories that made me feel better, without any judgment for my asking.
After booking our flights, my partner was on a mission to cheer me up. We walked around the shops, got coffee and croissants, and talked about how much fun we had until this point. After all that, I still felt annoyed inside. At that point, I knew I had to surrender my own will.
In my hopelessness, I said, “Okay, I still don’t feel better. I know we’re going to get home tonight. I know that we are safe and we had an otherwise perfect trip. I know we are so lucky to be able to travel and see the world. And we’re even lucky to have work in the morning! I know we have so much to be grateful for, but I cannot shake the bad feelings from missing this flight on my own. I need help. I am calling on God to make me feel better and instill a feeling of gratitude in me. And I know that if I don’t fix my attitude now, there are a LOT more things that could go wrong today, and I risk attracting a string of bad luck that prevents us from getting home safely tonight.”
I knew the consequences were dire, and my attitude shift could not just make or break our trip home, but they could even be a matter of life or death.
In this moment, I realized that my energetic demeanor is always this crucial. A post I saw on social media recently came to mind. It was a message exchange between two people, and one person says, “I don’t believe you need God to get into heaven,” and just beneath it, another message said, “You need God just to get to the grocery store,” and I fully believe that to be true. The grace of God has allowed me to get to where I am today: to be in a happy, loving relationship with a man I met against all odds, to have lived in Europe for most of my adult life and gone places some people only dream of going, to have my own business that supports this lifestyle, and all the things I’ve been so blessed to do. God allowed and facilitated that. And I don’t want to know what it feels like for one moment without Him!
The things of this world are so fragile that without God’s light, even fortresses that once stood tall can crumble, kingdoms can be overthrown, and empires can be decimated in the blink of an eye. I thought back to all I had seen on this trip: the Roman ruins, the miracle of the Sistine Chapel, which took Michelangelo 4 years to complete while lying on his back and looking up at a ceiling. Things that seem impossible become possible with God. And the contrary can also be true: things which seem commonplace or everlasting can be taken advantage of and taken away, just as one of the wealthiest families in history, the Medici family, that once ruled over Florence eventually went bankrupt.
Even though I had been stuck in a mental rut for the first few hours of that day, I knew that each and every moment is a test from God and an opportunity to reach out to Him for help. I chose to reach out to Him, and from that moment on, everything went smoothly, even some things that were against the odds.
For example, we tried to find the best flight plan back home, but we didn’t exactly have time to research all of the variables, such as the weather in Vienna. After committing to that plan, we found out that many areas in Austria were being evacuated for flooding and experiencing flight cancellations due to the weather. Luckily, our flights were fine and on time, both going into Vienna for our layover and leaving again.
Then, when we finally arrived at our final airport destination, we had to take a train two hours to get to our hometown. Now, when we originally booked this trip, we were supposed to leave and arrive from Brussels Airport, not Amsterdam (we live halfway between the two airports), and I had already booked our train tickets from Brussels, which were now void and non-refundable. I got an idea to go to the customer service office with humility and ask if they could make an exception given our nightmare of a travel day. Americans are famous for asking for refunds, so I told my partner to let me do the talking.
“Excuse me, sir, I know this is not our right, as the tickets are non-refundable, but I was wondering if there was any way that an exception could be made to accept our original train tickets from Brussels for a different journey, considering we missed our flight and arrived at a different airport than planned? It’s been a long journey home.” The man behind the counter must have been having a better day than us because he immediately went to the back room, found a piece of paper, a pen, and an official stamp with the train company’s logo, and wrote a handwritten approval of my request to show the train ticket authorities. It was a miracle! Even my partner was amazed at our luck. We boarded our train with no additional ticket needed, got his handwritten letter checked as proof of our right to board, and got home smoothly without another ticket loss!
Walking in the door that night brought more gratitude than I can express, and maybe it’s moments of gratitude like that which these experiences are meant to bring us. Maybe it’s just a reminder to appreciate our partners more for being a rock and helping us through hard times. Maybe it’s all just a test. And hopefully, maybe, barely, I passed.