I have a love hate relationship with airlines. I love to travel. There is nothing that can beat the feeling of being on a jet that is taking off and knowing that your next stop will be halfway around the world. I love having the time to watch multiple movies that I somehow never got around to watching as we sail through dark skies over an endless ocean. I love friendly flight attendants who offer you beverages and snacks. I even love the challenge of juggling the prepackaged meals that you are served in coach. It is like playing a game of Jenga to see what you can open and eat without knocking to the floor.

Although I find the flight experience itself enjoyable, I hate travel days because I hate airports and I hate the myriad of obstacles that always pop up throughout the day. My husband and I disagree on when to arrive. He likes to arrive at a later time. I like to follow guidance and arrive early, because rushing to catch a plane makes me anxious and missing a plane makes me furious. There is no good solution because the airport experience is unpredictable. No two airports operate the same and yet employees at each airport are clearly frustrated when passengers don’t know the “way it works” in a particular airport. What is too late on one day, may be way to early on another.

On our latest trip, we had a full range of airport experiences. In St. Louis, we were happily checking in for our flight using a self check kiosk when my husband noticed that our flight was delayed 50 minutes. This meant that we were unlikely to make our connecting flight in Los Angeles to Australia. We went to the service counter where the agent suggested that we have a gate agent in Los Angeles rebook us on a flight for the following day. They told us we had the last American flight out for the day. I politely asked if there was a code share flight with a partner airline leaving later. The staff in St. Louis were so helpful in finding a Quantas flight that we could join and still arrive on time. They took the time to listen and problem solve to get us where we needed to be and I was grateful.

Problem solved, we headed to our gate. Even though the flight was delayed, I was able to use a flight tracker app to see that it was arriving ahead of its estimated arrival time. We were one of the only flights departing the terminal, yet we had no gate agent. The plane was arriving and no one showed up to deal with passengers. People were circling the counter looking for someone to assist them. I could see a man in an American Airlines uniform sitting three gates away all by himself. I watched our plane arrive and still no gate agent appeared to begin the deplaning and pre-boarding tasks. Porters with wheelchairs arrived and still no gate agent.

Passengers begin to deplane and the man that was sitting by himself at another gate for the last 45 minutes appeared and began making announcements. He chastised passengers for moving too slowly. He chastised passengers for having questions. He announced several times that the flight crew may “time out” and be unable to fly to Los Angeles if passengers didn’t cooperate with him and move faster. I was beside myself.

Passengers had been at the airport waiting out a 90 minute flight delay with no information and no American airline employee in reach. This man, who had been lounging several gates away the entire time was treating passengers as if they were the problem. He had passengers scan their own boarding passes and yelled at me to hold it still because it didn’t scan fast enough, Thankfully everyone kept their cool and boarded without incident (unless you count eye rolling and clinched jaws).

Once on board, the flight crew was excellent. We had an uneventful and comfortable flight to Los Angeles. On ward to Sydney, we were even given aisle seats with no one seated beside us. Extra room and good food, what could be better? Quantas did a great job providing a pleasant flight experience.

Once in Sydney, we headed into the immigration and customs area. Everything was automated. We were directed to scan our passport and received a ticket from a machine. We weren’t sure what to do next as there were no people. We approached some plastic doors with a scanner, but didn’t see any immigration officers. Thankfully some Australians who were familiar with the system helped us scan our ticket which cleared us to enter the country. No questions. No passport stamp (sadly). Electronic passport control seemed efficient.

Next we had to go through customs. This was a more rigorous process where we had to declare our prescription medication. We were sorted into lines and groups until finally we were asked to put our bags on the ground so the security dog could inspect them. Thankfully Fido agreed we were trustworthy and we were cleared to go.

We made our way to the street and attempted to board the free shuttle to the domestic terminal. An airline employee wanted to know what airline we needed. I tried to explain that we just got off a Quantas flight and only needed to take the shuttle to our hotel near the domestic terminal. However, the employee only heard Quantas and kept insisting we return to the international terminal. After several mutually frustrating exchanges, she finally waved us aboard. I know she thought she was saving us from ending up in the wrong place. I knew where I needed to go.

The next morning we left the hotel to return to the airport for a Jetstar flight to Brisbane. The street to the airport was closed. The entire street we used to get to the hotel had been jackhammered out of existence overnight. So we walked several blocks around the construction and found a way to the terminal between parking lots. Crisis averted.

Jetstar is a discount airline that is owned by Quantas. We needed to check ourselves in, but you could not check in until Jetstar opened your flight at the self service kiosks (usually 2 hours before your flight). There was no where to sit or get food in the outer terminal, so we sat on a rail and waited. At the correct time, I checked us in through a simple scanning process and received two luggage tags. We followed the directions to attach our tags and got in the designated lines to await our turn at baggage drop off. A friendly agent took our bags, weighed them, and sent them to the plane. We went through security without ever having to show identification or a ticket to anyone. Once at the gate, we joined a line to board as there were no boarding groups. Based on our seat assignment, we were diverted off the jetway and down stairs onto the tarmac. We then had to climb stairs into the back door of the plane. Unusual entry, but also counted as a workout for the day. My backpack is heavy to lug up and down a steep staircase. Once aboard, the flight was comfortable and uneventful.

At Brisbane airport, the bags came quickly. I asked how to find the airport train that would drop us off in front of our hotel. I found out the train was not in service because of weekend maintenance. Thankfully Australian Uber came to the rescue, and we made to our apartment with just enough time to grab a bite to eat before the restaurants closed for the evening.

The week in Brisbane passed quickly. Before we knew it, it was time to catch the airport train for our flight to Melbourne. We got to the train platform early, only to find that there had been an accident further up the line and our train was delayed. So we waited. There was a football game near the station and all the fans were pouring off trains all around us making the wait feel even more chaotic. Eventually our train came and we made our way to the airport. We arrived on time and still had to wait until Jetstar allowed check in. This time, there were no clear lines to check in or drop off luggage.

Three employees stood in a cluster talking to each other, while one employee attempted to help passengers navigate baggage drop off. I asked an employee what to do and they pointed to a machine next to a conveyor belt and went back to chatting. So I began to use the bag check computer myself. We each had a baggage ticket so we each checked in separately. My husband’s went through easily. My bag wouldn’t scan in even though we attached the tags the same way we had sent them through in Sydney. I went back to the cluster of gossiping airline staff. A man stepped over, rolled his eyes and ripped off my bag tag and reattached it on the side of my suitcase and tossed it on the belt. The tag was loose and I silently prayed it would make it to Melbourne.

In a now familiar pilgrimage, we walked through security to our gate only to find that our plane would be delayed by over an hour because of a staffing shortage. We were hungry but there was no restaurant open. I went to a vending machine, but it didn’t take cash. I walked the length of the terminal to find some water and less than nutritious snacks.

After a dinner of candy while standing in a long line to board, we settled into our seats. A flight attendant appeared and asked us to move to an exit row. We agreed and a short while later she appeared with thank you snacks. The flight crew was outstanding during a pleasant flight. Before we knew it, we had arrived in Melbourne at the farthest gate possible. We walked a half mile through an empty airport to collect our bags. I was very happy when mine actually arrived with the tag hanging on by a thread.

Uber delivered us to our apartment in Melbourne and then delivered us back to the airport at the end of a great week. We found a lovely cafe just outside the Jetstar terminal, where we could await the opening of our flight. Food and a place to play a quick card game. We thought we hit the jackpot until the staff let us know that they closed at 2:00pm. So we headed into the terminal, which was large with surprisingly comfortable seating.

This is where we met Rose, an elderly Australian woman who could not carry her own luggage and had mild dementia. A nice young man had escorted her off the plane and helped her collect her baggage. He sat her near us and asked her if she would be okay and then notified an airline employee that her son was supposed to meet her at the plane but had not shown up. Rose looked confused but happy and asked us if we would watch her bags while she went to the bathroom. I got up to show her to the bathroom while my husband watched her bags. Meanwhile I heard someone running toward us yelling, “Mom”. Her flight had arrived early and her son was anxious to find her. The family successfully reunited and I mentally said thanks for the kindness of strangers.

Meanwhile, it was time to check in. I collected the baggage tags and noted that all visible Jetstar employees were gathered in a bunch laughing and talking. Passengers were completely on their own. By now, Jetstar veterans, I felt more than competent to meet the challenge. Except this time, unlike the first two Jetstar trips, it asked us to check in all the luggage under my name. I went ahead and did that hoping that we wouldn’t incur an extra charge for a passenger over the luggage allowance. Little wrinkles to keep us on our toes.

Melbourne airport has all of their shops and services in a central location and only directs passengers to the gate as the planes are ready to board. So we settled in the holding area, ordered food and found out we had a two hour flight delay. So we played cards. I shopped. We had desserts. Eventually, at the signal, we hiked a half mile to the gate and boarded … thankfully through the front with no stairs involved.

After an uneventful flight, we landed back in Sydney and had Uber take us to our apartment. I was too tired to figure out the train m. We were dropped off in the night at the address, but could not find the lock box that would let us in. We circled around in the dark with flashlights. We checked every rail. As we were looking, a woman in her pajamas appeared with her dog. She introduced herself as Karen “but not in a bad way”. That made me laugh. She offered to help and walked us to what she thought might be the correct building, where Glenn was able to find our key. We entered our third and final Australian nest exhausted from another full day of air travel.

The next three weeks went by in a blur. Uncharacteristically, I did not worry about getting to our early international flight because I pre scheduled a 4:45 am Uber transfer. Our driver was assigned with a defined pickup over a week in advance. I was content. The morning of our flight, we got up and got ready. As we were walking to the pick up spot, our driver cancelled our pick up. I got a notice from Uber that they were trying to find another driver. Resisting the urge to panic, I began to google taxi and car services that might be able to do a last minute pickup from a suburb. Thankfully just as I was getting ready to call a taxi service, I got a text that Uber had located another driver. Crisis averted.

Once at the airport, we approached the self service kiosk and an Australian American Airlines employee said, “Please let us serve you Ma’am”. And directed me to a full service counter where another polite gentleman check us in and wished us a pleasant flight. It was like we had stepped back in time 10 years. I almost fainted with the sheer pleasure of a great customer service experience. American Airlines should have Australia train all of their employees.

Once at security, we were greeted with smiles and told to take nothing out of our bags and to leave our shoes on. My husband and I looked at each other in confusion and walked through with smiles on our faces. My bag was pulled out of line and I prepared to be asked to empty my backpack that was stuffed with souvenirs and electronics. Instead a pleasant officer with a wand, ran it over the bag and the contents appeared on the screen. He looked for a minute, handed me my bag and told me to “have a great flight ma’am, thank you”. With a smile no less. Where are we? Australia should train all airport security officers.

The departure gates were surrounded by coffee shops and souvenirs stands so I had a great time waiting on our flight spending our leftover AUD. The flight was on time and boarding was uneventful.

We had awesome bulkhead seats with lots of legroom. Our seat mates were pleasant and the food was actually very good. The 13 hour flight passed quickly.

Coming back into the U.S. after traveling abroad can be a slap in the face. From the minute you step into the security area, grumpy looking security staff yell and point directions. If you miss what is said or don’t understand they repeat the same phrase and just yell louder. Tone is tense and unpleasant. After a long flight it can be disorienting. I am usually embarrassed that it is a traveler’s first impression of America. When I compare how we were treated in Australia , I am mortified by our lack of hospitality. Everyone in line to enter the country is treated like a nuisance at best and a potential terrorist at worst. We were herded into a small area, and a woman yelled instructions like a broken record.

A disinterested immigration officer scanned our passport without comment, we collected our luggage and then looked for the baggage recheck area. There were signs that were confusing. There was a man in a chair yelling unintelligible directions. Two couples stopped to ask questions , but he continued to yell the same phrase at the same volume in their faces. So they gave up and turned away. I showed our ticket and he waived us through. I just took a guess I was headed in the right direction.

We ended up in a small room with alot of stacked luggage. I got in line at the American counter by baggage drop. The agent was on the phone so I waited, and waited, waited. Finally she asked if I needed something or if I was just standing. I told her I needed to check our connecting flight, so she ended her phone call. Somehow our three hour layover had been extended to a 12 hour layover. I asked her why and if she could find us another flight. She apologized and told us that our flight was now the only flight of the day.

Dejected, we went to make our way to the American concourse, but found ourself confronted with a four story ascent with an out of service escalator. Our terminal was about 80 degrees and very small. We found a spot where I could get coffee and do some work and where my husband could stretch out and sleep. He fell asleep and I quickly found out that the electrical outlet didn’t work. So much for using the time wisely. I read. I walked. I tried to guess the home state or country of passengers as they passed.

At some point we went back to the international terminal. It had air conditioning, restaurants and comfy chairs. It was a long, boring day. At some point , we went back to the small terminal where I scanned my own ticket on the plane while the gate attendant flirted with a coworker. I seriously considered writing to American Airlines to ask if their US based employees could be trained in Australia.

Once we were on the flight home, I blew up my travel pillow and fell fast asleep. A four hour nap and we were home. Miraculously our luggage was ready when we got to baggage claim. Once on the street, two shuttle buses passed us by. But on the third try, we were back at the truck. Thirty hours of travel in, we only had a one hour drive to the house and our journey would be over . To celebrate, we stopped at Wally’s travel center, where at one a.m. we got a small soda (easily the largest drink size we had seen in the last five weeks). Back in the USA, giant caffeinated drink in hand, I have once again determined that travel (even if airline travel can often be agonizingly awful) is good for the soul.