“I think we might have been gone too long,” I whispered to DH, an hour or so into our American Airlines flight from London to Chicago. A bored-looking, dishevelled flight attendant had just flung a packet of pretzels at me and told me, categorically, that there were no children’s meals.
Remembering that getting food is a stroke of luck on US carriers these days, I asked for chicken and looked grateful. “I’m running out of trays…Try the other side,” she replied nonchalantly, motioning at the cart being pushed by a disinterested Joan Rivers lookalike with a headache making her way reluctantly up the other aisle.
“There isn’t a hint of red lippie in sight,” I remarked to DH, with amusement. “We’ve been really spoilt flying everywhere on Gulf airlines, haven’t we?” I admitted.
SkyHag: “Does this aisle make my butt look big?” Unionised American cabin staff are very different from the pretty, young things hired by Middle East carriers
But nothing was going to dampen our enthusiasm – not the 4am start, the eight-hour transatlantic flight with small children, or the fact I’d been singled out for ‘special screening’ at the gate – akin to being frisked by a human body scanner with octopus arms. This was our first trip back to the States in four-and-a-half years and I’d been looking forward to it since moving to the Middle East in 2008.
I was so excited – literally couldn’t wait to get back. The U.S. of A! We were finally on our way! Actually on the ‘big silver airplane’ we’d been telling the kids about and crossing the pond.
In retrospect, it wasn’t surprising that my words ‘been gone too long’ rang true precisely seven hours later as we attempted to negotiate our way through US immigration at Chicago’s busy O’Hare airport.
During our marriage, we’ve left an electronic trail around the world. America, the UK, Dubai – we’ve had to get our ducks lined up in several countries now, and despite having had a lawyer on the case during our time in the US, there are loose ends, I know.
“When were you last in the US?” asked the steely eyed immigration official, sizing me up from behind his spectacles.
Border control: “How long are you staying? Where? Why? Where’ve you been? Please step this way….”
He’d already processed the 75 per cent of my family who hold American passports, but my green card, which I’d proffered proudly along with my trusty British passport, was ringing alarm bells. “Umm, we left four years ago,” I mumbled apologetically – wondering to myself if all the gallivanting we’ve done round the Middle East since had got his attention.
“If you could just foll-ar me,” he beckoned, stepping down from his kiosk and leading me into a room with several rows of plastic chairs and a windowless, artificially lit ‘interview’ office on one side.
I started getting worried – our connecting flight to Minneapolis was in three hours’ time. I really didn’t want to miss it. The boys were bored and scrapping with each other like gerbils.
Students with visa problems, a plane-load of Koreans and three generations of an extended family from Asia were processed before me, despite the fact I’d been sitting there the longest. “Are you going to jail, mommy?” asked BB, still full of pent-up energy.
Two hours rolled by and we discovered that, contrary to the posters on the wall promising respect and courtesy, the woman in charge didn’t give a rat’s arse about customer service (okay, we weren’t exactly customers, but we did have questions).
“Immigration issues ain’t a quick problem,” barked the supervisor. “Ar’ve got a whole load of people we’re sending home – we’re doing ‘em first,” she drawled, closing her office door on our faces.
By now, I was panicking. DH, always the voice of calm, even looked annoyed. The boys, high on half a night’s sleep, were restless.
Our luck only changed when a new shift started and a much kinder official looked into our case. We had, indeed, been ‘gone too long’. As a green card holder, I found out I need to return to the US every year, or apply for a special visa. Two-and-a-half hours after being led into the waiting room, we finally left – $560 dollar lighter (yes, we were fined!) and with less than 40 minutes until our next flight.
There was no choice but to queue jump at the long line snaking its way through security. I whipped off my shoes, belt and jewellery and we hustled the boys through.
But there was worse to come.
The airplane was waiting and the crowd of people at the gate looked like they were ready to elbow their way on board – when some unwanted news changed our plans.
“The 1.30pm flight to Minneapolis/St Paul is cancelled,” the gate agent announced, deadpan. No apology, no explanation. Nada. “Passengers can line up for rebooking” – on a flight nine hours later.
I’ll say that again. Nine hours. Longer than the time it took to cross the Atlantic.
There followed a reminder that travelling round the US these days on bankrupt airlines is like a lottery. You purchase a flight online, but the chances of actually getting your scheduled flight are about the same as being struck by lightning, twice.
Two little ole’ ladies who’d also flown from London looked aghast. A travelling mum with kids even younger and less manageable than ours sat on the floor and wept quietly. Other passengers conversed in hushed grumbles, cursing every now and then as though they had Tourette’s.
I know, I know, it wasn’t her fault. But she delivered the news with no apology whatsoever – and I was fed up by now
It was at this point that my DH, who’s always brilliant under stress and spent four years flying regional jets round the US, came up with an escape plan. “Can we go to Rochester instead?” he asked the lone gate agent in charge of rebooking the long line of disgruntled travellers. “Yes, in two hours’ time,” was the reply. And after much tapping on the computer, we were re-routed and on our way to a new destination.
Arriving at Rochester, Minnesota, was a blessed relief, despite the fact our luggage didn’t make it (it was never going to, was it?). We hired a car after being put on hold by our American credit card company for what felt like ages (yet another fraud check) and set out on the drive to Minneapolis, drinking in the green farmland and marvelling at the open road on which we were travelling.
On which there was very little traffic compared to the UAE – and which had, unbeknownst to us, a ridiculously low speed limit.
You’ve guessed what happened next, haven’t you? (stop laughing!)
“Gotcha! Do you know how fast you were going?”
Yes, we were pulled over – by a police officer who had no sympathy for our sorry story about a tiring, long journey from London, our cancelled flight and lost luggage, and who issued us a speeding ticket. Straight out of Dubai and with nearly-there-after-one-helluva-journey enthusiasm, we were fair game, I suppose.
Welcome to the US, indeed! Thankfully, things got a lot better over the next two weeks…
OMG Marianne what a trip. As a journalist it was super interesting adventure to write about albeit valium inducing. Sorry I missed meeting you at Moir Park but, the weather here has been trying . . .. I believe you experienced it. Hope
you had some fun while your were in Minneapolis. Barb Jensen
Hi! We had the most amazing time in Minneapolis, thank you! It was so good to be back! So sorry we missed you…yes, the weather was unexpectedly challenging…Dubai-like, in fact! I will meet you another time – loved every minute of seeing Sandy, Jaz and Rod. Missing Minneapolis now!
Oh dear!! What a journey! I am getting a bit nervous since my passport contains visas from countries people can’t even pronounce…. I hope it all went much better after this experience!! xxx
Have a wonderful trip Pia! I really want to get to Seattle one day and I loved Montana when we visited a while ago…please say hi to Tawna! You have your ESTA, yes? I had one too – but to get in as a tourist, they wanted me to give up my green card – no way! Took 5 years to get that and I really want to live in the States again one day! Wishing you a smooth journey xxx
You should probably become a US citizen soon as you can….would be a lot easier!
Sorry the journey was so hellish but good that you can laugh about it now….
Fortunately the night flight back was uneventful, apart from wide-awake boys!
Oh dear. O’Hare is always a bit of a crapshoot about Immigration. Arriving back from London last month, my husband warned me about the queues as he’d had to wait for over an hour to get in with the kids four days before (all on US passports). I looked at my watch as I joined the light queue and was processed in under three minutes! Quickest ever. It will never happen again.
PS. There are quite a lot of rules (hurdles) before you can become a US resident if you haven’t been in the country for a while. They may have changed now but before I got US citizenship I was told off because the Immigration people hadn’t been stamping all my comings and goings to the UK. Apparently you had to be resident in the US for the majority of the time, and you had to be able to show that you hadn’t been away for more than (I think) 3 months in all.
I had a feeling there’d be some huge blockades to jump! Thank u v. much for the info – I’m already thinking about my next US trip to keep the green card current.. Emirates flies into NY, Houston, San Fran, LA, Seattle (waiting for Chicago!) – it’s such a long way to come from Dubai for a weekend, but I’m determined I’ll accompany DH in the next year!
Poor you Marianne 🙂 What an ordeal ! I would of been in panic mode ! Did you get your luggage back after all of that or is it still in America ? Hopefully you’re all safely home now.
We got our luggage the next day! On the upside, it meant I got to go straight to Target (one of my fave US stores) to get some overnight things!
Pleased to hear that you managed to buy some new clothes out of it !
That is ment to be a sad face, not a happy one !!
Love the post! Your trip was 10 times worse than mine last year!! Glad you survived intact and hope you are having a great time in the states!
Thanks K! We had a great trip…I hope you’re having a wonderful time on the West coast. Miss you!
Well, my goodness, that makes our 6 and a half hour car trip ending up at the wrong campsite (our friends’ journey took two hours and ended up at the right campsite) seem like a fun thing to have done!
Always entertaining, your blogs, this one takes the biscuit. Hopefully you’ll having a lovely time now. x
Hi Linda! We’re in Woking now if you’re over this way visiting your brother xx
That was meant to say “you’ll be having” !
Hope you’re all really well and you and the girls are having a great summer hol…love to catch up if pos. Must be hard to work at home during holidays..hope work going okay too!
What a story! Funny now, but not so at the time I’m sure!
One of my neighbors had problems at O’Hare this summer too. She’s Philippino, married to a Scot. They have a daughter, born in Korea I think, and a son born in the US. So one US citizen and three green cards between them. He’s working in Vietnam right now, s the family spends the school year there and come back to the US in the summer. She came back ahead of the others and got stopped at O’Hare with that same question “When were you last in the US?” It turned out that when she entered the US last summer via JFK they had never stamped her passport so she had no proof that she’d been here. She was furious that they appeared to have no computer record of her arrival in 2011. She had to pay the same fine that you did. She had to call her husband in Vietnam and warn him ahead of time that the kids were likely to face the same problem when they arrived a couple of weeks later, as would he on his arrival a month later . . .
At least they let you both just pay a fine though. I had a Spanish student years ago whose entire family lost their green cards because they did not return to the US every 6 months.
My goodness, that is horrible losing their green cards. And really surprising that in your neighbour’s case, there was no electronic record (I thought they knew everything about comings and goings!) – what an expensive arrival they must have had. I will make sure my passport is always stamped…
What a story!!! By the time I got to the last chapter, with the ridiculously low speed limits… I was shaking my head with sympathy. Been there, done that, slightly different story but same plot: exhausted traveller excited to arrive but burned by a series of mistakes (not all one’s own!). Great post.
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