Skybus $20 promotion ended on the 5th and someone I know snagged a ticket

by Jamie Rhein on

No, I’m not the one who got the promotional price. And here’s why. On January 2, just before I was heading out of town with my husband and kids for jam-packed excitement in Cincinnati with friends, I got an email from Skybus announcing $20 each way flights to a few locations–one to Newburgh, New York. Since packing for the trip at hand, instead of planning for a trip in the future, was a priority, I put the deal on hold.

Two days later some of these flights on the weekend were still available. I went as far as picking the flight and starting to put in credit card information, but I choked. Here’s why:

1. I waffled about bringing my son. Should I or shouldn’t I? On one hand it would be fun. On the other hand, a solo trip would be great, but then that would leave my husband with my son for the weekend which is no big deal, but is it fair? I already won’t give my husband the left hand window seat of an airplane if we are sitting together. Wouldn’t leaving him with our highly energetic son on a weekend when he needs to get grading done be pushing it?

2. The weather in February, when I was planning to go, is so unpredictable. I could get stuck at my dad’s unable to get out. Being stuck in Columbus would be no big deal. I’d just eat the cost of the ticket, but the idea of being stuck on top of a mountain in upstate New York was not a happy thought. I spent my adolescence feeling stuck up there. No thanks.

3. Then there were thoughts of Skybus’s winter holiday snafus with the planes not working. Again, I could get stuck not being able to leave Newburgh. Without anyone to call how would you know if there was a problem? If there was a problem, does that mean that you have to stay in Newburgh until the problem is fixed? Does the airline inform people when the flights are going if you give someone a phone number? They do through the internet, but my dad doesn’t have internet. Again, there was fear of being stuck on top of a mountain, possibly forever.

4. If I couldn’t get out that would mean I couldn’t do any of my jobs which would mean a lack of income. A cheap ticket becomes expensive.

So, I decided to sleep on my decision-making. As what happens every time I wait on decision-making with Skybus, the ticket prices went up on the weekend that was the most convenient for me to travel, therefore I have decided to wait for the next round of cheap tickets. Once a price goes above $100, unless I have a specific reason to go on a trip, there’s a lot of things $100 will pay for. Psychologically, there’s something about not getting the cheapest deal that gets in the way.

Now, who is getting the cheap tickets.? My dad. I called him about the deal when I found out it was not good for me, Getting out of Newburgh was still cheap for him. He’s coming to Columbus for roughly $56.00 round-trip. Who wouldn’t?

I just looked at Skybus ticket prices. The days that used to cost $20, now cost $35, but they are mostly during the week. If you fly to Newburgh on this afternoon’s flight, it will cost you $35. That’s not a bad deal in an emergency. If you wait until tomorrow, it will cost you $180.

Here’s friend of mine’s take on SkyBus. Tom Barlow ‘s post “SkyBus: How cheap is too cheap,” at WalletPop reflects some of my concerns.

Holiday Travel Hell Part 1: American Airlines really doesn’t care

by Catherine Bodry on

Like many other travelers in 2007, I’ve experienced several flight delays. Since I mostly traveled from Anchorage to Seattle, none of the delays were that big of a deal — I usually ended up exhausted (I always have to fly on red-eyes, and it’s a two-hour trip to the airport on either end), which I can deal with. I’m generally a patient traveler, and don’t get angry about situations out of my control. But as I wrote yesterday, my travels in December 2007 made me realize just why travelers get upset. I believe that it’s not necessarily the delays or cancellations; rather, it’s the behavior of customer service reps that get travelers fired up.

The first segment of my holiday trip from hell was a flight from Seattle to Dallas, en route to Tampa. Naturally, our flight out of Seattle was delayed, so naturally, my sister Ali and I missed our connection in Dallas. The gate agent at Dallas/Ft. Worth, who was disinterested and silent, silently handed us vouchers for a hotel stay and told us we were booked on a flight the next day at 12:25 p.m. There were close to a dozen passengers who missed the 9 p.m. flight to Tampa, and I overheard a few of them working with other agents reserve flights early the next morning. When I asked if other passengers were getting early flights out of Dallas, he replied “stand-by. They are all on stand-by.” As Ali and I walked away with our vouchers, a couple from our flight asked us the situation. We told them that we were confirmed on the 12:25 to Tampa, and had requested to be on the stand-by list for the 9 a.m. When the couple approached the same gate agent, he told them, “Don’t listen to them [my sister and me]. Listen to me.” And he booked them on a 6:30 a.m. flight! What gives?

Several of us ended up on the shuttle to the hotel together, where we were able to compare notes. One passenger had to pay for his hotel room. Another received food vouchers on top of the free room. Every single passenger was booked on either the 6:30 or the 9 a.m. flight, including people who approached the counter after and Ali me. We couldn’t discern any reason for the differences — no one was MVP, for example.

When we got to the hotel room, Ali called Expedia to make sure our rental car in Tampa would be held at least another 12 hours, while I got online to write a complaint to American Airlines. My complaint was not that our flight was delayed; instead it was the flippant attitude of the gate agent and the seemingly whimsical manner in which each passenger was treated. Why, for example, would our gate agent tell the couple behind us in line to listen to him, and then book them on an early flight? Ali and I were in no way rude — I always make sure I’m friendly and polite. Why didn’t we receive food vouchers? Why couldn’t we catch an earlier flight, since our vacation was already delayed a night?

The next morning we arrived early to try and ride stand-by on the the 9 a.m. flight. We didn’t get on, but we did find out about a 10:30 a.m. flight that was available. We were both able to fly stand-by on that one, thank goodness. No one had mentioned that flight to us before then.

I received a reply to my complaint yesterday from American Airlines. The response was a cheap attempt at disguising a form letter — it focused on our delayed flight, and repeatedly mentioned being unable to compensate monetarily for flight delays, even though I never asked for money and made clear that my problem was not with the delay but with customer service. At one point in the email the rep wrote that the customer service complaint “concerned” her and that she had reported it to her manager. Nothing specific, nothing about the fact that her gate agent had complete control over passengers’ flights and was able to pick and choose who he wanted to fly when.

So what did I want from American Airlines? I think just the reassurance that despite appearances, the airline was looking out for me. That those in charge actually care about my travel plans, and are doing their best to get me where I need to be as soon as possible. Instead I received an insincere apology aimed at removing blame for flight delays, when the actual delay was never the problem.

Now I understand why travelers get angry

by Catherine Bodry on

I’ve always been a patient traveler — or so I like to think. Missed trains and delayed planes don’t normally phase me beyond a general annoyance. I’ve always regarded the stressed-out angry traveler as someone who needs to take a chill pill and enjoy the journey. I plan to get sick, get robbed, and/or see big insects in my guesthouse; so I don’t take valuable items with me, and usually sleep with the lights on (just because I expect to see big bugs doesn’t mean I’m not scared of them).

But this holiday season, I had the experience that made me understand just why travelers get so pissed off. I’ll be discussing it in a three-part series coming up, but for now I want to apologize to travelers out there on whom I have formerly passed judgment. It sucks being stranded in the U.S.A.

Here are the lessons I learned this dismal holiday travel season:

1. Landing in Tampa does not have the charm of landing in Bangkok or Delhi. There’s no $1.50 tuk-tuk or rickshaw to take somewhere if your car rental reservation gets effed-up. When you’re stuck in a hotel room in Dallas outside the airport (a hotel with no bar, nonetheless), it’s not as cool to have to order a $12 pizza from Dominoes as it is to eat street food for a few cents. Thus, being stranded while traveling domestically loses any glamor it might’ve had in a foreign country.

2. Delays cost money. Delays cause stress. Vacations are short and expensive, so a day by the pool that has been replaced by sitting stand-by and eating unhealthy and expensive airport food is reason enough to get upset. But when airline, travel agent, and car rental companies have no empathy for the bedraggled traveler, it makes everything all the worse. All we want is a kind word and a little respect to help make up for lost time and spent money.

3. When things happen through no fault of your own, don’t expect anyone else to take the blame. You’re on your own. As such, take every single precaution you can think of to protect yourself. One thing I regret is not taking down names; it helps to know who you were dealing with when filing a complaint. And when you file a complaint, don’t expect reparations — but it’s still worth filing.

Those are the three major lessons I learned — what about you? Did you have any eye-opening experiences while you traveled over the holidays?

Spotlighting the craziest travel stories of 2007

by Neil Woodburn on

2007 was a crazy year for crazy travel stories. Thankfully USA Today has kindly bundled them all together for our enjoyment.

The weirdest travel stories of 2007 treats us to tales of drunken in-flight brawls, stupid pilot delays, problematic airplane toilets, animals running amuck at 30,000 feet, corpses flying in First Class, airport security absurdities, lawn-chair pilots, and sexy women being told to button it up (on the right).

Gadling has diligently covered most of these stories over the last 12 months, but we unfortunately missed one of my favorites from the USA Today article: A Spanish hotel which allowed 30 “highly stressed-out people” to destroy their hotel rooms with sledgehammers (the hotel was undergoing renovation at the time).

So, it was a pretty whacky 2007 overall.

And, I’m sure we can all look forward to equally entertaining stories from the travel world in 2008.

Got the post-holiday blahs? Try a road trip

by Aaron Hotfelder on

Garrison Keillor, legendary yarn-spinner and the Christof behind the idyllic Lake Wobegon, has a new short essay appearing in Salon. In the piece, called “Just Follow the Map,” Keillor advises that the best way to break out of the holiday blues or blahs is to hop in your car, put the windows down and the music up, and drive west.

After an old friend confesses that the holidays have left him frustrated and lonely, Keillor tries to sympathize: “I listened and tried to say validating things, but guys don’t sit and brush each other’s hair and talk about life late into the night as girls do; our hair is too short. And my friend is 54, which is an awkward age. And I guess I believe in small answers to these large questions.”

One of his “small answers” is the aforementioned road trip, that staple of Americana that seems to be disappearing ever so slowly as flights become cheaper and gasoline gets more expensive.

When I was a kid, my family used to pile in the minivan and drive fourteen hours to New York or Colorado, and I never imagined that I might eventually become nostalgic for those long road trips. At the time, they were something to be endured rather than enjoyed. But as I’ve become more accustomed to flying, traveling in what Keillor calls “the realm of stale pretzels and unhappy flight attendants,” I really do pine for a long car ride– but, hey, I call shotgun.