Berlin at Christmastime 2012: Part One

(This is Part One; Part Two is here.)

For two years we’d been talking about returning to Berlin around Christmastime to visit friends and experience the wonderful Christmas markets.  In autumn 2012, when conversation turned to travel, we decided this was our time to return to Germany.

The Planning

Our original plans took us to Berlin by way of a couple-of-days stay in Dubai, with a routing of Dulles to Paris to Dubai to Paris to Berlin to Paris to Dulles.  For reasons I detailed here, we decided to forego Dubai and ended up booking to Budapest, with a routing Dulles to Amsterdam to Budapest to Berlin to Paris to Dulles.  Because we had credit with Delta, we booked our tickets with them, but our outbound flights would be on KLM; our return flights would be on Air France.  (This becomes a nightmarish happenstance, as you'll later read.)

For accommodations, we used points for three nights at the Budapest Intercontinental.  Usually when in Berlin, we rent an apartment.  The cost is often a good bit cheaper than a hotel and it gives us more space and a kitchen.  This time, though, i stumbled upon a 95€ per night rate at the Berlin Hilton.  Since the location is so great and the rate so good, and because my Hilton status would get us free breakfast, we decided to book into the Hilton.

We had everything planned and soon it was time to fly.

The Getting There

About nine hours before we left I received an ominous email, which advised of weather in Amsterdam the next day.  The email said that it was “likely to significantly affect” our flights.  It went on to say that we should rebook, at no additional cost.

Of course, I am always keen to avoid weather, so I started to look at other options.  The only real alternative, if we wanted to keep the same days and destinations, was to take the flight from Dulles through Paris on Air France instead of through Amsterdam on KLM.  Since KLM and Air France are the same company, it should not have been an issue at all.

After previous trips, I wrote (here, for instance), about how horrible SkyTeam’s integration is.  (SkyTeam is Delta’s, KLM’s, and Air France’s alliance.)  This trip was no different, and the troubles had begun before we ever left for the airport.  I wrote/ranted all about it here, here, and here, so I won’t go into it all again here, but, basically, our—and mine specifically—reservations were totally screwed up.  So, we could not check-in online, we could not change our reservation, we could not even access our reservations.

At the airport, I told the agent about the email her airline had sent me.  I told her that we wanted to rebook through Paris to avoid the weather, and so on.  She was having none of it and refused to change our flights, as did her supervisor.  “Your flight is fine.  It is showing on time.”  “Of course it is because it doesn’t leave for ten hours and the weather isn’t coming for eight hours.”  “You don’t need to worry, your flight will be fine.”

In the lounge at Dulles before the flight, my hair relaxes with some reading

Our flight was not fine:  although we were able to land, our onward flight had already been canceled before we landed.  I usually like to be correct but, in this case, I didn’t like to be right, not one bit.  And, ours wasn’t the only one, as the roughly two inches of snow threw Amsterdam Schipol Airport into complete chaos and pandemonium.  Yes, less than two inches of snow!  At a Northern European international airport, and they were totally incapable of dealing with it.

View from the lounge in Amsterdam

We made our way past the long rebooking lines and headed to the KLM Crown Lounge to rebook and get sorted out.  They were operating on a number system, so we drew one when we first got into the lounge.  Then, we waited.  And waited. And waited. 

Finally, after almost four hours, our number was called and we finally got to speak to an agent.  The next flight to Budapest was way full and there were already 25 people on the standby list.  I asked about other destinations:  Prague, Hamburg, Warsaw, and so on.  They were all full.

We opted to just standby for the two o’clock flight to Budapest.  Of course, we also found out
that, if we didn’t make it onto that flight, we’d have to queue again to speak to an agent to get on the next standby list.  Crazy!  I’m used to airlines’ systems just rolling over the rest of the standby list to the next flight, but KLM’s antiquated system will not allow that.

By this time we’d been in the lounge for over 4 ½ hours and Philip was ready for a change of scenery.  I was reluctant to go, as we did at least have seats in the crowded lounge.  But, we did change to the next lounge, which was on the other side of passport control and nearer our Budapest gate.

Walking through the airport we saw even longer lines of people.  We made it to passport control (we were entering the Schengen Area in Amsterdam), and found our way to the Schengen lounge.  On the way in we took another number, just in case.

In the new lounge we did manage to find a seat, but it, like the other lounge, was really packed.  We killed the time with snacks, surfing the internet, and doing whatever we could to pass the time.  It was eventually time to load up and go to the Budapest departure gate to see if we could get out.

At the gate I asked the gate agent what our chances were of getting on the flight.  As expected, she was vague and said she couldn’t be sure.  Stateside especially, gate agents are a unique breed:  they hold a lot of power and some use that power to help you, and others not.  Upsetting them is never a good idea.

In our situation, I really did not think we would make the flight, so I had a bit of a tough-love moment with the agent.  I gave her the sixty-second version of what we’d been through, making it clear that we were in our predicament because of her airline’s agent.  She started to say something but I told her “You don’t need to answer.  I just want you to know that, if we don’t get on this flight, you are going to have to help us.”

Departure time came and went and I started to think that the flight would be canceled.  We overheard that the later Budapest flight had just been canceled, so this was the only chance for us to get to Budapest that day.  At last, the flight crew was there and aboard.

When the other gate agent took to the microphone, I imagined he’d begin boarding.  Instead, he announced that there was a fire in the control tower at Budapest and he was awaiting further news.  That information came about five minutes later:  the flight would not go because they didn’t know when the airport would reopen.  Great.

As the agent made the announcement, I looked at the gate agent I’d spoken with.  She mouthed “I’m sorry,” and motioned me over, as the other agent stated that nobody would be rebooked there and that we all had to wait in the lines out in the terminal.  Luckily, the chat I had had with the agent seems to have worked:  when I approached the podium she just asked “You want to go to Berlin, right?”  I answered “Yes, and him,” I pointed to Philip, “And our baggage.”

After she put us on the standby list for Berlin, I reconfirmed that our baggage would be traveling with us.  She looked at the screen and then paused:  “I see you travel a lot, so I can be honest with you.  If your bags don’t come up at the baggage claim, don’t panic.  If that happens your bags will come tomorrow.  You know how these things go.  It’s crazy in the baggage area.”

With that, we were back to the second lounge to wait out our flight to Berlin, which was about 2 ½ hours off still.  The lounge was still packed.  And, we still had our number and could tell by whom they were calling that our number would certainly not have been called for another four or five hours.

About an hour before our Berlin flight was to go, we headed out, fingers crossed that we’d get on, as we could tell it was still another four hours before our number would be called.  Neither of us had enough sanity left in us for that!

We managed to get on the Berlin flight and, in spite of some delays pushing back—and even more delays for deicing—we finally got airborne.  After about nine hours at Amsterdam Schiphol, I’d had enough and was ready to get out of there.

Up next:  Clearly we arrived, but did our bags?  Here's a tease of what we saw that night in Berlin:

Looking at a Ferris Wheel and the Berliner Dom

At the Christmas Market at Alexanderplatz