The first time I took Brent backpacking with my Calgary pals was a trip to MacLeod Creek in August of 2009.
When backpacking, of course there is a lot of focus on bringing only what you truly need for the trip. The essentials. You're going to be carrying everything for your trip on your back, so size and weight are key considerations. Every backpacker decides for themselves what "exceptions" they are willing to carry. For some people it is a proper pillow. Others may decide that a book is not optional, and carry along their favorite novel. My friends have a long-standing tradition of bringing a "set-up beer" on our trips. A "set-up beer" is pretty self-explanatory... it's a beer that you bring along to enjoy while you set up camp after lugging all your stuff in on your first day.
I like having someone to share gear with on a backpack trip. I can comfortably carry 30lbs in a pack. By the time I reach 33-35lbs, I'm getting uncomfortable, and carrying anything beyond 35lbs is virtually impossible for me. Yeah, I'm just wimpy that way. So, having someone to share the load with is awesome.
Brent and I prepared for our trip together and split up the essential gear - tent, tarp, first aid kit, food, water filter, pot and stove, and so on. I didn't tell Brent about "set-up beer". I snuck out and bought a couple of big cans of Molson Canadian and re-packed my pack, hiding them at the very bottom.
When the day of the trip came, we all hiked in together. Honestly, MacLeod Creek is not a particularly interesting nor scenic trip, so as km turned into km and another km, we were all feeling very ready to reach our camp site.
Then... someone said they couldn't wait to have their "set-up beer".
Brent: "What? What? What is that?"
Friend: "Set-up beer! We all bring a beer to enjoy while we set up camp!"
Brent looked absolutely stricken. He looked at me with his heart clearly breaking, "You didn't tell me about 'set-up beer'! I don't have a 'set-up beer'!"
I apologized to him and we kept hiking, Brent's bottom lip dragging on the ground from the pouting while my friends tormented him, expounding about the joy, and tradition, of the revered "set-up beer" (they were in on my prank).
When we got to camp, I couldn't wait to spring on him that I had, in fact, brought set-up beers for both of us. Thankfully the relief and joy of experiencing his "set-up beer" overrode the trauma of the first practical joke that I played on him. Yay for "set-up beer"!
Sunday, May 1, 2016
Monday, March 21, 2016
"Miracle Gabi" Day
Brent's sister's friend, Gabi, who lives on Bequia but is originally from Germany, rode with us on our European Cycle Tour from Donaueschingen to Vienna.
To say that Gabi is a "character" would be a gross understatement. Traveling with Gabi was thrilling, vexing, and never boring. Of all of our adventures with Gabi, one day stands out quite spectacularly. I call it "Miracle Gabi" Day.
Our good friend, Laura, joined us for the same portion of our tour as Gabi. The four of us had been cycling together across Germany for about one week. We were enroute to Donauworth for the day, cycling mainly down little-used side roads. It was overcast and threatening to rain.
We were on a particularly small and quiet side road when Laura's bike decided to blow a spoke. We stopped to have a look at it and hoped that it could be repaired on the spot, but we came to realize that that was simply not to be. We were in the middle of nowhere, about 8km from Donauworth and it was starting to drizzle. Our map indicated two bike rental shops in town, but no bike store or mechanic, so I expected the next few days to involve a lengthy solution in order to get back on the road.
Starting to formulate a plan, we were angling towards having Brent and Gabi continue on to Donauworth, and I would walk with Laura the 8km to Donauworth. None of us was happy with the plan but it was the best we (and when I say 'we', I mean, the three imagination-less Canadians) could come up with.
Completely dissatisfied with our inferior plan, Gabi pronounced "Don't worry guys, I got this". She blew a kiss to the sky and said something to the universe, and then, quite confidently stated "the next vehicle that comes along is for us". Doubty Doubterson became my name at that moment.
We didn't even have time to convince Gabi that "Plan A" (logic, reason, and "sucking it up") was the way to go when down the road, traveling in our direction, appeared a small car towing a small horse trailer. Gabi marched out into the middle of the road, stopped the car, and had a conversation with the driver.
The horse trailer was empty.
The driver was a man, heading to Donauworth, with his son.
They piled Laura and Gabi's bikes and gear into the horse trailer, tossed Laura and Gabi into the back of the car, and before Brent and I could say WTF, they were off down the road.
Brent and I rode the rest of the way to Donauworth.

The man dropped Laura and Gabi off right at the bike repair shop in Donauworth.
The bike repair shop had Laura's bike repaired before Brent and I even reached Donauworth.
I will never forget "Miracle Gabi" Day.
| "Miracle Gabi" and the Canadians |
Our good friend, Laura, joined us for the same portion of our tour as Gabi. The four of us had been cycling together across Germany for about one week. We were enroute to Donauworth for the day, cycling mainly down little-used side roads. It was overcast and threatening to rain.
We were on a particularly small and quiet side road when Laura's bike decided to blow a spoke. We stopped to have a look at it and hoped that it could be repaired on the spot, but we came to realize that that was simply not to be. We were in the middle of nowhere, about 8km from Donauworth and it was starting to drizzle. Our map indicated two bike rental shops in town, but no bike store or mechanic, so I expected the next few days to involve a lengthy solution in order to get back on the road.
Starting to formulate a plan, we were angling towards having Brent and Gabi continue on to Donauworth, and I would walk with Laura the 8km to Donauworth. None of us was happy with the plan but it was the best we (and when I say 'we', I mean, the three imagination-less Canadians) could come up with.
| One of Gabi's happiest moments on the tour |
We didn't even have time to convince Gabi that "Plan A" (logic, reason, and "sucking it up") was the way to go when down the road, traveling in our direction, appeared a small car towing a small horse trailer. Gabi marched out into the middle of the road, stopped the car, and had a conversation with the driver.
The horse trailer was empty.The driver was a man, heading to Donauworth, with his son.
They piled Laura and Gabi's bikes and gear into the horse trailer, tossed Laura and Gabi into the back of the car, and before Brent and I could say WTF, they were off down the road.
Brent and I rode the rest of the way to Donauworth.
The man dropped Laura and Gabi off right at the bike repair shop in Donauworth.
The bike repair shop had Laura's bike repaired before Brent and I even reached Donauworth.
I will never forget "Miracle Gabi" Day.
Monday, March 7, 2016
Waschfreunde, Where Are You When We Need You?
Cycling touring in Europe last year was the best, and most aromatic, time of my life. By definition, when you're cycle touring, you haven't got a lot of clothing along. Brent had essentially two outfits along: one to wear and one to switch into. I had a little more than that, but not much more. Good thing I don't mind being stinky!
We skipped merrily through Iceland without needing to do a load, and when we hit France we found it wonderfully civilized, with a laverie (laundromat) pretty much every place we went.
When we got to Germany, though, things started to get a little weird. Every town we asked in apologized for not having a waschsalon (landromat) and it seemed that they were quite uncommon in Germany. A few days in we reached Mannheim where we found out first waschsalon of Germany. Mannheim is a university town, which is why they have one.
The Waschfreunde (wash friend) in Mannheim was a wonderful modern place with brand new machines and a very VERY attentive attendant. She greeted us, showed us how the machines worked and proceeded to help us through the whole process. It was like she thought we'd never used a laundromat before, and we suspected that most of her clientele hadn't.
The further east we went, the harder it got to find any kind of laundromat at all, and in most of the countries we visited, it just isn't done. People own their own washing machine, and if they don't, they use their family or friends' washing machines. We managed to find washing machines occasionally in campgrounds, and occasionally said washing machines were actually functional. It was a pretty special day when we found a spot with a machine, even though most of the machines we encountered beyond France took up to three hours to wash one load.
In Germany we stayed at a very nice campground that had washers AND dryers. What luxury! We were vexed, though, to discover that the dryers didn't dry. Eventually Brent figured out that there was a water reservoir on the machine that had to be emptied regularly (like, several times per load) in order for any drying to occur at all. Very strange.
Occasionally we'd get too desperate for clean clothes to wait for our next chance encounter of a machine so we'd have to make "laundry wine" which involved stomping our dirty clothes into submission in the bathtub with some water and laundry soap.
When we reached Croatia, we not only found laundromats non-existent, we also found campgrounds non-existent. For the first couple of weeks we stayed in hostels and "apartmani" (furnished short-term stay apartments) and once in a while we'd encounter a washing machine in our apartman. I was, shall we say, disproportionately happy to discover a washing machine in our apartman in Rijeka. As we reached the more touristy areas of Croatia, campgrounds became more plentiful, but washing machines were still scarce. Quite often we'd resort to the "laundry wine" trick.
Even that didn't always work out, though. We stayed in an apartman in Dubrovnik and we were beyond desperate to do some laundry. The apartman complex had an extensive list of "rules" including visitors being strictly forbidden to wash clothes in their rooms. They would happily provide a laundry service for €30 per load. Yes, that's approximately $45CAD for a single wash. We declined and I stealthily washed a couple of items anyway.
We've been back home now for four months and I'm still not over the shock of discovering how much clothing I own, nor the luxury of washing it, and smelling sweet, any old time I want.
When we got to Germany, though, things started to get a little weird. Every town we asked in apologized for not having a waschsalon (landromat) and it seemed that they were quite uncommon in Germany. A few days in we reached Mannheim where we found out first waschsalon of Germany. Mannheim is a university town, which is why they have one.
The Waschfreunde (wash friend) in Mannheim was a wonderful modern place with brand new machines and a very VERY attentive attendant. She greeted us, showed us how the machines worked and proceeded to help us through the whole process. It was like she thought we'd never used a laundromat before, and we suspected that most of her clientele hadn't.
The further east we went, the harder it got to find any kind of laundromat at all, and in most of the countries we visited, it just isn't done. People own their own washing machine, and if they don't, they use their family or friends' washing machines. We managed to find washing machines occasionally in campgrounds, and occasionally said washing machines were actually functional. It was a pretty special day when we found a spot with a machine, even though most of the machines we encountered beyond France took up to three hours to wash one load.
In Germany we stayed at a very nice campground that had washers AND dryers. What luxury! We were vexed, though, to discover that the dryers didn't dry. Eventually Brent figured out that there was a water reservoir on the machine that had to be emptied regularly (like, several times per load) in order for any drying to occur at all. Very strange.
When we reached Croatia, we not only found laundromats non-existent, we also found campgrounds non-existent. For the first couple of weeks we stayed in hostels and "apartmani" (furnished short-term stay apartments) and once in a while we'd encounter a washing machine in our apartman. I was, shall we say, disproportionately happy to discover a washing machine in our apartman in Rijeka. As we reached the more touristy areas of Croatia, campgrounds became more plentiful, but washing machines were still scarce. Quite often we'd resort to the "laundry wine" trick.
Even that didn't always work out, though. We stayed in an apartman in Dubrovnik and we were beyond desperate to do some laundry. The apartman complex had an extensive list of "rules" including visitors being strictly forbidden to wash clothes in their rooms. They would happily provide a laundry service for €30 per load. Yes, that's approximately $45CAD for a single wash. We declined and I stealthily washed a couple of items anyway.
We've been back home now for four months and I'm still not over the shock of discovering how much clothing I own, nor the luxury of washing it, and smelling sweet, any old time I want.
Sunday, March 6, 2016
Look Out pStyle, Here Comes Stadium Gal
I love the freedom my pStyle affords me. I can pee standing up while outdoors, avoiding trying to squat in the snow or in heavy brush or in bug-infested places. I can pee standing up in unsanitary long-drops and gas station washrooms. There is no doubt the pStyle is my favorite gear.
On our recent trip to Loreto, one of our first outings was sport fishing on the Sea of Cortez. I'd been looking forward to it ever since Legendary Ed and I started planning the trip. He's been going on annual fishing trips since he turned 90 and I've always wanted to tag along.
We were introduced to a fantastic fishing guide named Juan. Juan took us out for the morning in his panga. One of his first orders of business was to have a whiz over the side of the boat. I was envious as I was already feeling the urge too and I wondered how I'd fare out on the water in a panga for several hours.
We fished for skipjack. We fished for yellowtail. We fished for marlin. We fished for roosterfish. Brent and Ed caught fish. I lost a fish, took photos and tried not to think about my bladder.
After we'd been out for a few hours, Juan took his second pee over the side of the boat and I decided I'd have to ask to do the same. Before I had a chance to ask for myself, chivalrous Brent asked on my behalf. Juan suggested that I squat over the side of the boat. I wouldn't be able to do that, but I thought I could give the trusty pStyle a try.
I asked the men in the panga for some privacy and they looked the other way while I tried to use the pStyle off the front of the boat. The side of the boat was too high, the boat was too floaty (yes, I understand that's a good quality in a boat), and I had stage fright. To clarify, the side of the boat being too high is a problem because:
On our recent trip to Loreto, one of our first outings was sport fishing on the Sea of Cortez. I'd been looking forward to it ever since Legendary Ed and I started planning the trip. He's been going on annual fishing trips since he turned 90 and I've always wanted to tag along.
We were introduced to a fantastic fishing guide named Juan. Juan took us out for the morning in his panga. One of his first orders of business was to have a whiz over the side of the boat. I was envious as I was already feeling the urge too and I wondered how I'd fare out on the water in a panga for several hours.
We fished for skipjack. We fished for yellowtail. We fished for marlin. We fished for roosterfish. Brent and Ed caught fish. I lost a fish, took photos and tried not to think about my bladder.
After we'd been out for a few hours, Juan took his second pee over the side of the boat and I decided I'd have to ask to do the same. Before I had a chance to ask for myself, chivalrous Brent asked on my behalf. Juan suggested that I squat over the side of the boat. I wouldn't be able to do that, but I thought I could give the trusty pStyle a try.
I asked the men in the panga for some privacy and they looked the other way while I tried to use the pStyle off the front of the boat. The side of the boat was too high, the boat was too floaty (yes, I understand that's a good quality in a boat), and I had stage fright. To clarify, the side of the boat being too high is a problem because:
- If I got the exact right pressure on the pStyle, it was angled back towards myself instead of over the boat
- If I got the pStyle angled over the boat, it put too much pressure on my urethra for me to pee
After my first unsuccessful attempt, the men politely all moved and faced the other direction so that I could try peeing over the back of the boat, which isn't quite as tall as the front of the boat. Alas, still no success.
For the rest of the trip, I suffered with my full bladder and vowed that I would find a solution to this problem asap.
One of our fellow villa-dwellers lent me his "pee bucket" for our second trip out, which was great. I happily used the bucket and Ed even used the bucket once.
A pee bucket isn't the kind of long-term solution I was hoping for, though, so I decided to take another look at the Stadium Gal, which I've been aware of for a few years. The Stadium Gal is the female version of the Stadium Pal, an external catheter designed for men to enjoy sporting events without having to interrupt their fun by getting up to pee.
Now, reminiscent of my first foray into peeing standing up with the dreaded Whiz Easy, my Stadium Gal has arrived and is sitting, mockingly, in my office waiting for me to muster the courage to try it. Soon, Stadium Gal. Soon.
Sunday, February 28, 2016
Dear Westjet: You Suck
SATURDAY:
Ed and I just got back from Loreto (Mexico) and boy did Westjet ever let us down this time. By "Ed" I mean "Legendary Ed". At the time of this writing, he's almost 94. He's also well over 6' tall. He always goes for bigger seats on aircraft simply so he can fit in the seat. For our trip to Loreto, we got the "Plus" seats, which I've never done before, but that's where the leg room is. Having a "Plus" seat is pretty nice - I enjoyed having one on the way to Loreto.
When our time in Loreto was nearly completed, I got the usual "check in online" e-mail from Westjet a day before our flight. I didn't use the online check-in because I didn't have the same access to technology (including 3G roaming) that I have at home and was concerned that I wouldn't be able to access our boarding cards at the airport. So, we decided to check in the old-fashioned way: at the check-in desk talking to a person.
At check-in, the ticket guy clearly knew that we had Plus seats because he didn't charge us for our checked bags. He neglected, however, to warn us that our seat assignments were not for Plus seats. (FAIL: Should have warned us that our seats had been given away... or, rather, sold to another customer).
After check-in, we looked at our tickets and the seat assignments looked wrong - 6B and 19B. Those didn't look like Plus seats to us, but since we hadn't been informed by the ticket agent, nor charged for checked bags, I wasn't particularly worried. I told Ed that I'd inquire when we got through security and to the gate.
At the gate area, I went to speak with the lady at our gate. She looked up our reservation and told me she couldn't help me because our reservation was not for Plus seats. (FAIL: Lied to me about this). I produced my printed confirmation that we did, in fact, have Plus seats at which point she summoned her supervisor.
The supervisor shrugged and said we would have to complain when we get to Calgary. I said that wasn't good enough because my friend is very tall and very old. I went to get Ed as "backup" and to show them that making him sit in a cattle car was not acceptable. Incidentally, Ed was not looking like his usual robust self today. He'd taken a spill hiking on Coronado Island and half of his face was a big purple bruise, and he was walking with a cane because of a newly acquired "trick knee". The supervisor shrugged again and told us to tell the flight attendant and they would figure it out. (FAIL: Supervisor should at least say sorry for the situation and be more helpful about finding a resolution).
When we got on the plane, I spoke with Flight Attendant Michelle. I told her that we had been bumped out of our Plus seats for some reason and no one in the terminal would help me - they were making her deal with it. Her first reaction was that we should go stand at the very back of the plane while everyone else boards and then she'd deal with us. (FAIL: Really??). When I asked her why she said because she didn't know where anyone else was seated at that time and she needed to get the plane boarded. She then told us to take our assigned seats (which she wrote down) and she would come talk to us when everyone was boarded. I told her that Ed won't fit in a normal seat and she just said she had no other choice. That's what we needed to do until everyone else was boarded.
I left Ed at 6B and went back to 19B. I was, oddly, seated between a couple, and, oddly, they declined when I offered to let them sit together, so I had one on either side. They listened, sympathetically, while I ranted for a few minutes and then engaged me in conversation about Loreto, which was very helpful to calm me down.
When it looked like everyone was on board, I could see that Ed was still in 6B, so I walked up to the front of the plane. When I reached the row where Ed was sitting, I encountered another Flight Attendant. I asked her if anything had been done about moving him. She said "I don't know anything about that. Did you talk to someone?" I indicated Michelle. She said "Go talk to her then" and rudely pushed past me in the aisle. (FAIL: I'm already being treated like a difficult customer... for what??)
I approached Michelle and she said that the flight was full and there was nothing she could do. We would just have to complain when we reach Calgary. I said "Look at him! He doesn't fit in the seat! We paid for Plus seats so he'd have leg room." Michelle said "Well, all these other people paid for Plus seats too." I said "Can we ask someone if they'd trade?" Michelle talks to one lady who immediately agrees to switch with Ed. I thanked Michelle and the lady. (FAIL: She clearly didn't even TRY to do anything about it until I insisted, and wouldn't have even bothered trying if I hadn't insisted). I asked if the seat he was being moved to was bigger. Michelle turned and started walking away, flipped her hands in the air and said, curtly, "That's the biggest you get!" (FAIL: Really? Treat me like I'm being a difficult customer when all I'm doing is trying to get my long-legged friend into the seat that he paid for IN NOVEMBER!?)
I returned to 19B and the nice couple from Cochrane. They had to listen to me rant again for a minute about the way Michelle handled the situation, and the way she treated me.
Now, over-selling a flight I can actually understand. There is ALWAYS attrition. When I post an outdoor event I always exceed my maximum as well, and thanks to attrition, I almost never have more than my maximum come out. But what I don't understand is, if you're going to over-sell your flight, why over-sell the PLUS seats? If you over-sold cattle-car seats and had to "bump" people to Plus seats, they'd be thrilled about it. People being bumped from Plus seats to cattle-car seats... not so much.
Through the whole experience, not once did anyone say:
- We're sorry this happened
- We take responsibility for this happening
- We will try to resolve this
They treated us as an inconvenience at best, and a difficult customer at worst.
SUNDAY:
I called Westjet customer service and I spoke with a helpful lady named Leslie. One of the first things she said was that she was sorry this happened to us. She was the FIRST person through everything to indicate that she/Westjet was sorry. She said she could clearly see that we had a Plus reservation and she didn't know why we weren't given our seats.
After several minutes of looking into it, she could find no reason why our seats were given to other customers. She said the only reason would be if someone needed them for a medical reason, which was not the case. She indicated that perhaps the system had somehow given up our seats to another customer checking in online as an "upgrade", although that shouldn't happen because Westjet doesn't over-sell their Plus seats. I said that maybe that's something their IT department should look into.
She offered me compensation for the experience, starting with $200/ea back to me and Ed. We could take it as cash back (to my credit card) or as a flight bank. I said we'd take the money back on my credit card because I was not satisfied with the resolution and I didn't know if I'd fly with them again. She asked if there was more she could do to make me happier and offered me $300/ea, which I accepted. I'm not sure if I'm happy about that at all. I don't feel compensated for what happened; I feel appeased.
Ed and I just got back from Loreto (Mexico) and boy did Westjet ever let us down this time. By "Ed" I mean "Legendary Ed". At the time of this writing, he's almost 94. He's also well over 6' tall. He always goes for bigger seats on aircraft simply so he can fit in the seat. For our trip to Loreto, we got the "Plus" seats, which I've never done before, but that's where the leg room is. Having a "Plus" seat is pretty nice - I enjoyed having one on the way to Loreto.
When our time in Loreto was nearly completed, I got the usual "check in online" e-mail from Westjet a day before our flight. I didn't use the online check-in because I didn't have the same access to technology (including 3G roaming) that I have at home and was concerned that I wouldn't be able to access our boarding cards at the airport. So, we decided to check in the old-fashioned way: at the check-in desk talking to a person.
At check-in, the ticket guy clearly knew that we had Plus seats because he didn't charge us for our checked bags. He neglected, however, to warn us that our seat assignments were not for Plus seats. (FAIL: Should have warned us that our seats had been given away... or, rather, sold to another customer).
After check-in, we looked at our tickets and the seat assignments looked wrong - 6B and 19B. Those didn't look like Plus seats to us, but since we hadn't been informed by the ticket agent, nor charged for checked bags, I wasn't particularly worried. I told Ed that I'd inquire when we got through security and to the gate.
At the gate area, I went to speak with the lady at our gate. She looked up our reservation and told me she couldn't help me because our reservation was not for Plus seats. (FAIL: Lied to me about this). I produced my printed confirmation that we did, in fact, have Plus seats at which point she summoned her supervisor.
The supervisor shrugged and said we would have to complain when we get to Calgary. I said that wasn't good enough because my friend is very tall and very old. I went to get Ed as "backup" and to show them that making him sit in a cattle car was not acceptable. Incidentally, Ed was not looking like his usual robust self today. He'd taken a spill hiking on Coronado Island and half of his face was a big purple bruise, and he was walking with a cane because of a newly acquired "trick knee". The supervisor shrugged again and told us to tell the flight attendant and they would figure it out. (FAIL: Supervisor should at least say sorry for the situation and be more helpful about finding a resolution).
When we got on the plane, I spoke with Flight Attendant Michelle. I told her that we had been bumped out of our Plus seats for some reason and no one in the terminal would help me - they were making her deal with it. Her first reaction was that we should go stand at the very back of the plane while everyone else boards and then she'd deal with us. (FAIL: Really??). When I asked her why she said because she didn't know where anyone else was seated at that time and she needed to get the plane boarded. She then told us to take our assigned seats (which she wrote down) and she would come talk to us when everyone was boarded. I told her that Ed won't fit in a normal seat and she just said she had no other choice. That's what we needed to do until everyone else was boarded.
I left Ed at 6B and went back to 19B. I was, oddly, seated between a couple, and, oddly, they declined when I offered to let them sit together, so I had one on either side. They listened, sympathetically, while I ranted for a few minutes and then engaged me in conversation about Loreto, which was very helpful to calm me down.
When it looked like everyone was on board, I could see that Ed was still in 6B, so I walked up to the front of the plane. When I reached the row where Ed was sitting, I encountered another Flight Attendant. I asked her if anything had been done about moving him. She said "I don't know anything about that. Did you talk to someone?" I indicated Michelle. She said "Go talk to her then" and rudely pushed past me in the aisle. (FAIL: I'm already being treated like a difficult customer... for what??)
I approached Michelle and she said that the flight was full and there was nothing she could do. We would just have to complain when we reach Calgary. I said "Look at him! He doesn't fit in the seat! We paid for Plus seats so he'd have leg room." Michelle said "Well, all these other people paid for Plus seats too." I said "Can we ask someone if they'd trade?" Michelle talks to one lady who immediately agrees to switch with Ed. I thanked Michelle and the lady. (FAIL: She clearly didn't even TRY to do anything about it until I insisted, and wouldn't have even bothered trying if I hadn't insisted). I asked if the seat he was being moved to was bigger. Michelle turned and started walking away, flipped her hands in the air and said, curtly, "That's the biggest you get!" (FAIL: Really? Treat me like I'm being a difficult customer when all I'm doing is trying to get my long-legged friend into the seat that he paid for IN NOVEMBER!?)
I returned to 19B and the nice couple from Cochrane. They had to listen to me rant again for a minute about the way Michelle handled the situation, and the way she treated me.
Now, over-selling a flight I can actually understand. There is ALWAYS attrition. When I post an outdoor event I always exceed my maximum as well, and thanks to attrition, I almost never have more than my maximum come out. But what I don't understand is, if you're going to over-sell your flight, why over-sell the PLUS seats? If you over-sold cattle-car seats and had to "bump" people to Plus seats, they'd be thrilled about it. People being bumped from Plus seats to cattle-car seats... not so much.
Through the whole experience, not once did anyone say:
- We're sorry this happened
- We take responsibility for this happening
- We will try to resolve this
They treated us as an inconvenience at best, and a difficult customer at worst.
SUNDAY:
I called Westjet customer service and I spoke with a helpful lady named Leslie. One of the first things she said was that she was sorry this happened to us. She was the FIRST person through everything to indicate that she/Westjet was sorry. She said she could clearly see that we had a Plus reservation and she didn't know why we weren't given our seats.
After several minutes of looking into it, she could find no reason why our seats were given to other customers. She said the only reason would be if someone needed them for a medical reason, which was not the case. She indicated that perhaps the system had somehow given up our seats to another customer checking in online as an "upgrade", although that shouldn't happen because Westjet doesn't over-sell their Plus seats. I said that maybe that's something their IT department should look into.
She offered me compensation for the experience, starting with $200/ea back to me and Ed. We could take it as cash back (to my credit card) or as a flight bank. I said we'd take the money back on my credit card because I was not satisfied with the resolution and I didn't know if I'd fly with them again. She asked if there was more she could do to make me happier and offered me $300/ea, which I accepted. I'm not sure if I'm happy about that at all. I don't feel compensated for what happened; I feel appeased.
Sunday, November 1, 2015
Stumbling Around Schengen
Brent and I spent about four years planning a big cycle tour in Europe. We diligently researched the visa requirements for each of the countries we thought we might visit, and each one indicated that we could stay for up to three months. Easy peasy. We weren't planning on spending nearly that long in any one country, so we didn't spend any more time or effort on that aspect of our trip planning.
We plotted out a rough route, which evolved over time. When we left Canada on May 1st 2015, our plan involved touring in France, Belgium and the Netherlands, then heading over to Frankfurt to leave our bikes there while we went to visit Ireland and the UK. We would return to Frankfurt in mid-July to collect our bikes and meet up with Laura and Gabi to ride the Danube Cycle Trail from Donaueschingen to Budapest. After Budapest, we would travel southwest to visit Slovenia, then Italy, Spain, and back to France to fly home on October 31st.
Aside from specific dates with friends, we left the plan completely open. We'd learned from experience (ahem... Australia) that it was difficult to determine where we'd be at any specific time, and we didn't have any reason to box ourselves in unnecessarily. Good thing because our best laid plan was out the window before we'd been in Europe five minutes.
When we arrived in Iceland and went through customs, the lady asked us about our plans, and we told her the high-level plan as described above. Her chilly question: "You know you can only spend 90 days in Schengen, right?" Our response: "What's a Schengen?"
We had a whirlwind itinerary in Iceland, and wouldn't have time to take care of anything there, so we decided to visit the Canadian Embassy in Paris as one of our first "things to do" and get our visas straightened out so we could spend longer than the default 90 days in Schengen.
On our first day in Paris, we found an address for the Canadian Embassy and used Metro to head down. When we got there, we were told that they couldn't do anything for us - we needed to contact the country we're visiting (not our home country). I had no idea how to contact a French Embassy from within France, or even if that was the right thing to do for Schengen, so I sent off an e-mail to the contact listed on the Schengen support web site inquiring about options.
We started talking about adjusting our plan so that we would only be in Schengen for 90 days. We could spend about 45 days cycling within Schengen and then head over to Ireland and the UK (which are not part of Schengen). That would still give us 45 days to spend on the Danube with Laura and Gabi, which was more than ample. We didn't have any other confirmed plans with folks within Schengen, so worst case scenario... only 90 days in Schengen.
Using Google as our guide, we learned more about Schengen. The Schengen Area is a collective of countries, sort of like the European Union, which does not have international border crossings between the member countries. It's sort of like one big "country" encompassing a bunch of European countries. Some people from the "online community" indicated that they would just "pop out" of Schengen, then go back in to start a new 90-day visa. Several people suggested the same on my Facebook. But, as I dug deeper, I learned that that, unequivocably, is not the solution. It just doesn't work that way. The way it works is simple:
- When you enter the Schengen area, a "counter" starts lasting 180 days.
- Of the subsequent 180 days, you are only allowed to be in any Schengen countries for 90 of them, regardless of in-and-outs.
- After 180 days have elapsed, you can re-enter Schengen to start a new 180-day counter.
- There is no such thing as a "long term visitor" visa for Schengen.
- Some Schengen countries offer long-term visas for a variety of purposes - most commonly: student visas, working visas and retiree visas. Any one of those visas allows the holder open travel within the whole Schengen area.
Many people over-stay their Schengen visa, and many of those people do not get "caught" or suffer any consequences. Some web sites recommend departing from France if you're going to do this because they seem to be the most lax about it. But, if you are over-staying your visa and something happens (say, you are the victim of a crime, or are injured and require medical attention) you will most certainly be found out. And if you are found out, you get a "black mark" on your passport/record which makes it difficult to visit the Schengen area in future. You can be banned from entering Schengen for five years. Brent and I decided that it absolutely is not worth it to us to "take our chances" as some people suggest.
So, what to do to ensure that we don't violate our 90-day Schengen visa? Reluctantly, we decided that once we were done the Danube tour, we would exit Schengen - we just had to figure out where we would go. We had lots of options... the biggest problem was going to be finding an option with decent cycle infrastructure. We could "convert" from a cycle holiday to a hiking holiday (or some such), but this was supposed to be our six-month cycle tour and we really didn't want to do that.
I arranged to borrow our "Danube Cycle Trail 4" book back from Frank, which describes the route east of Budapest to the Black Sea. That portion of the route is outside of Schengen as soon as it leaves Hungary. We learned a lot about that route, though, and decided that we weren't really interested. Not only does it look like kms and kms of "flat and boring", it also sounds like it has some sketchy bits (for example, sections where panhandlers will block the trail and not let you pass unless you give them money... in the wild west, I think these were called highwaymen). I'm not interested in encountering highwaymen, nor am I interested in cycling kms and kms of flat and boring just for the sake of cycling for our remining two months. We considered many many options, and ultimately decided to spend some time cycle touring in Croatia. I'd heard good things about cycling there, and I managed to get ahold of a map for Istria (northern peninsula) that shows cycle routes on it. Brent talked to a couple from New Zealand who'd done some cycling there and they declared it to be quite wonderful (albeit expensive for camping).
About a week before we were due to be done our Danube tour, I did a last-minute search for any other options for staying in Schengen. I discovered that France offers a long-term visitor visa! Sonofagun! I don't know how I missed that earlier! Well, I do know how I missed it... I had been searching for countries that we wanted to visit at the end of our trip, not countries that we'd already visited. I did some more research, and started pulling together the information we needed to apply for the visa. One web site said that you could apply from outside of your own country, as long as you explained your reason for doing so. We planned to apply for the visa in Vienna. If you're rejected in one place, you can still apply from another place, so we thought that would also leave us back-up opportunities to try from Budapest, and then from Croatia. We tried to apply in Vienna, but the visa application department of the French Embassy in Vienna is almost closed down... you need to make an appointment ahead of time just for them to show up. Brent did a little more research into how to apply, and he found that, to apply for the visa you need to have an in-person interview (at an Embassy... ie in your home country), you need a police clearance, and you need to provide three months of "original source" bank statements. "Original source" meaning hard-copy bank statements from your bank. Bank statements printed off the internet only count if they're stamped by your bank. Realizing that it would be pretty much impossible for us to provide those things without being physically in Canada, with lots of lead time, we finally gave up.
After our time in Budapest, we zoomed down to Croatia and had a great time. We spent seven weeks there altogether. At the end of the sixth week, due to autumn and scary traffic conditions, our cycle tour was completed. We gave away our bikes and shipped our cycling and camping gear home. We shifted to a "backpacking" holiday, touring around the Dalmatian Coast for a week, then headed over to Sarajevo (Bosnia), then to Cappadocia (Turkey).
At the time we left Hungary, we still had 11 days left on our Schengen "ticker". Our 180 days actually expired on October 28th and we weren't heading home until October 31st, so if we left Schengen on (or before) October 28th, then went back in on October 29th, we could technically have 14 more days in Schengen (11 on our original visa and 3 on a new visa).
Brent mapped out a plan for us to do a whirlwind train tour across Europe after we left Turkey. I created a spreadsheet to help us confirm the number of days we had remaining in Schengen (and also as backup documentation for our passport stamps for any Passport Control personel who may want to see it).
We did our 11-day train trip from Venice to Bruges. Brent had tried to find a way for us to pop over to the UK on the 28th and return to France on the 29th. He was very vexed to discover that, without a vehicle, it is very difficult to use the ferry crossings between France and England.
Finally I suggested using Dublin instead, which worked out great. Passport Control questioned us quite thoroughly coming into Ireland, and Brent went on a bit of a runner explaining what we were doing and why. We got passport visas valid until the 29th only... no messing around! But that was all we needed, so it was all good.
On October 29th we headed back into France and Passport Control didn't even blink at us (nevermind ask us a question). Wow. That was easy.
On October 31st, we had our final trip leaving Schengen. We flew from Paris to Iceland, which was our final exit point from Schengen, 183 days after we arrived on May 2nd. When we got to passport control, the fellow asked us the date we first entered Europe. I told him, and in dismay he exclaimed "MAY SECOND!?" I could tell he was steeling himself for dealing with the Canadian scofflaws standing in front of him (I'm sure it's not his favorite thing to do). Then I clarified: we were in and out of Schengen during that time: 90 days within Schengen, and another 90 days outside of Schengen. He was relieved and we were golden. He happily gave us our exit stamps and sent us on our way. I didn't even have to show him (or anyone else) my fancy spreadsheet.
My advice for visiting Schengen: follow the rules. I'm glad I didn't have to experience the consequences if we'd over-stayed our welcome. Some folks risk it and some folks get away with it. If you want to stay longer than 90 days within Schengen, apply for one of the approved visas from one of the member countries well in advance of your visit. That's it.
We will probably never have to follow our own advice again, though, as it's unlikely that we'll plan another six-month vacation. I think a month or two is a nice amount of time.
We plotted out a rough route, which evolved over time. When we left Canada on May 1st 2015, our plan involved touring in France, Belgium and the Netherlands, then heading over to Frankfurt to leave our bikes there while we went to visit Ireland and the UK. We would return to Frankfurt in mid-July to collect our bikes and meet up with Laura and Gabi to ride the Danube Cycle Trail from Donaueschingen to Budapest. After Budapest, we would travel southwest to visit Slovenia, then Italy, Spain, and back to France to fly home on October 31st.
Aside from specific dates with friends, we left the plan completely open. We'd learned from experience (ahem... Australia) that it was difficult to determine where we'd be at any specific time, and we didn't have any reason to box ourselves in unnecessarily. Good thing because our best laid plan was out the window before we'd been in Europe five minutes.
When we arrived in Iceland and went through customs, the lady asked us about our plans, and we told her the high-level plan as described above. Her chilly question: "You know you can only spend 90 days in Schengen, right?" Our response: "What's a Schengen?"
We had a whirlwind itinerary in Iceland, and wouldn't have time to take care of anything there, so we decided to visit the Canadian Embassy in Paris as one of our first "things to do" and get our visas straightened out so we could spend longer than the default 90 days in Schengen.
On our first day in Paris, we found an address for the Canadian Embassy and used Metro to head down. When we got there, we were told that they couldn't do anything for us - we needed to contact the country we're visiting (not our home country). I had no idea how to contact a French Embassy from within France, or even if that was the right thing to do for Schengen, so I sent off an e-mail to the contact listed on the Schengen support web site inquiring about options.
We started talking about adjusting our plan so that we would only be in Schengen for 90 days. We could spend about 45 days cycling within Schengen and then head over to Ireland and the UK (which are not part of Schengen). That would still give us 45 days to spend on the Danube with Laura and Gabi, which was more than ample. We didn't have any other confirmed plans with folks within Schengen, so worst case scenario... only 90 days in Schengen.
Using Google as our guide, we learned more about Schengen. The Schengen Area is a collective of countries, sort of like the European Union, which does not have international border crossings between the member countries. It's sort of like one big "country" encompassing a bunch of European countries. Some people from the "online community" indicated that they would just "pop out" of Schengen, then go back in to start a new 90-day visa. Several people suggested the same on my Facebook. But, as I dug deeper, I learned that that, unequivocably, is not the solution. It just doesn't work that way. The way it works is simple:
- When you enter the Schengen area, a "counter" starts lasting 180 days.
- Of the subsequent 180 days, you are only allowed to be in any Schengen countries for 90 of them, regardless of in-and-outs.
- After 180 days have elapsed, you can re-enter Schengen to start a new 180-day counter.
- There is no such thing as a "long term visitor" visa for Schengen.
- Some Schengen countries offer long-term visas for a variety of purposes - most commonly: student visas, working visas and retiree visas. Any one of those visas allows the holder open travel within the whole Schengen area.
Many people over-stay their Schengen visa, and many of those people do not get "caught" or suffer any consequences. Some web sites recommend departing from France if you're going to do this because they seem to be the most lax about it. But, if you are over-staying your visa and something happens (say, you are the victim of a crime, or are injured and require medical attention) you will most certainly be found out. And if you are found out, you get a "black mark" on your passport/record which makes it difficult to visit the Schengen area in future. You can be banned from entering Schengen for five years. Brent and I decided that it absolutely is not worth it to us to "take our chances" as some people suggest.
So, what to do to ensure that we don't violate our 90-day Schengen visa? Reluctantly, we decided that once we were done the Danube tour, we would exit Schengen - we just had to figure out where we would go. We had lots of options... the biggest problem was going to be finding an option with decent cycle infrastructure. We could "convert" from a cycle holiday to a hiking holiday (or some such), but this was supposed to be our six-month cycle tour and we really didn't want to do that.
I arranged to borrow our "Danube Cycle Trail 4" book back from Frank, which describes the route east of Budapest to the Black Sea. That portion of the route is outside of Schengen as soon as it leaves Hungary. We learned a lot about that route, though, and decided that we weren't really interested. Not only does it look like kms and kms of "flat and boring", it also sounds like it has some sketchy bits (for example, sections where panhandlers will block the trail and not let you pass unless you give them money... in the wild west, I think these were called highwaymen). I'm not interested in encountering highwaymen, nor am I interested in cycling kms and kms of flat and boring just for the sake of cycling for our remining two months. We considered many many options, and ultimately decided to spend some time cycle touring in Croatia. I'd heard good things about cycling there, and I managed to get ahold of a map for Istria (northern peninsula) that shows cycle routes on it. Brent talked to a couple from New Zealand who'd done some cycling there and they declared it to be quite wonderful (albeit expensive for camping).
About a week before we were due to be done our Danube tour, I did a last-minute search for any other options for staying in Schengen. I discovered that France offers a long-term visitor visa! Sonofagun! I don't know how I missed that earlier! Well, I do know how I missed it... I had been searching for countries that we wanted to visit at the end of our trip, not countries that we'd already visited. I did some more research, and started pulling together the information we needed to apply for the visa. One web site said that you could apply from outside of your own country, as long as you explained your reason for doing so. We planned to apply for the visa in Vienna. If you're rejected in one place, you can still apply from another place, so we thought that would also leave us back-up opportunities to try from Budapest, and then from Croatia. We tried to apply in Vienna, but the visa application department of the French Embassy in Vienna is almost closed down... you need to make an appointment ahead of time just for them to show up. Brent did a little more research into how to apply, and he found that, to apply for the visa you need to have an in-person interview (at an Embassy... ie in your home country), you need a police clearance, and you need to provide three months of "original source" bank statements. "Original source" meaning hard-copy bank statements from your bank. Bank statements printed off the internet only count if they're stamped by your bank. Realizing that it would be pretty much impossible for us to provide those things without being physically in Canada, with lots of lead time, we finally gave up.
After our time in Budapest, we zoomed down to Croatia and had a great time. We spent seven weeks there altogether. At the end of the sixth week, due to autumn and scary traffic conditions, our cycle tour was completed. We gave away our bikes and shipped our cycling and camping gear home. We shifted to a "backpacking" holiday, touring around the Dalmatian Coast for a week, then headed over to Sarajevo (Bosnia), then to Cappadocia (Turkey).
At the time we left Hungary, we still had 11 days left on our Schengen "ticker". Our 180 days actually expired on October 28th and we weren't heading home until October 31st, so if we left Schengen on (or before) October 28th, then went back in on October 29th, we could technically have 14 more days in Schengen (11 on our original visa and 3 on a new visa).
Brent mapped out a plan for us to do a whirlwind train tour across Europe after we left Turkey. I created a spreadsheet to help us confirm the number of days we had remaining in Schengen (and also as backup documentation for our passport stamps for any Passport Control personel who may want to see it).
We did our 11-day train trip from Venice to Bruges. Brent had tried to find a way for us to pop over to the UK on the 28th and return to France on the 29th. He was very vexed to discover that, without a vehicle, it is very difficult to use the ferry crossings between France and England.
Finally I suggested using Dublin instead, which worked out great. Passport Control questioned us quite thoroughly coming into Ireland, and Brent went on a bit of a runner explaining what we were doing and why. We got passport visas valid until the 29th only... no messing around! But that was all we needed, so it was all good.
On October 29th we headed back into France and Passport Control didn't even blink at us (nevermind ask us a question). Wow. That was easy.
On October 31st, we had our final trip leaving Schengen. We flew from Paris to Iceland, which was our final exit point from Schengen, 183 days after we arrived on May 2nd. When we got to passport control, the fellow asked us the date we first entered Europe. I told him, and in dismay he exclaimed "MAY SECOND!?" I could tell he was steeling himself for dealing with the Canadian scofflaws standing in front of him (I'm sure it's not his favorite thing to do). Then I clarified: we were in and out of Schengen during that time: 90 days within Schengen, and another 90 days outside of Schengen. He was relieved and we were golden. He happily gave us our exit stamps and sent us on our way. I didn't even have to show him (or anyone else) my fancy spreadsheet.
My advice for visiting Schengen: follow the rules. I'm glad I didn't have to experience the consequences if we'd over-stayed our welcome. Some folks risk it and some folks get away with it. If you want to stay longer than 90 days within Schengen, apply for one of the approved visas from one of the member countries well in advance of your visit. That's it.
We will probably never have to follow our own advice again, though, as it's unlikely that we'll plan another six-month vacation. I think a month or two is a nice amount of time.
Sunday, August 30, 2015
Epic European Cycle - Blog Quick Links
In 2015, Brent and I spent six months cycle touring in Europe. The trip is extensively chronicled on http://www.damdetails.com/calendar/trips/1. This page just provides some quick links to the Trip Log page.
| Page | Dates (Click) | Synopsis | Friends |
|---|---|---|---|
| 1 | 2015/04/30 - 2015/05/09 | Left Canada, Whirlwind Iceland, Paris, Véloscénie | NA |
| 2 | 2015/05/10 - 2015/05/19 | Véloscénie | NA |
| 3 | 2015/05/20 - 2015/05-29 | Mt. St. Michel, Nantes, Loire à Vélo | NA |
| 4 | 2015/05/30 - 2015/06/08 | Loire à Vélo, Rhine Route | NA |
| 5 | 2015/06/09 - 2015/06/18 | Rhine Route, Ireland | Sandie |
| 6 | 2015/06/19 - 2015/06/28 | Ireland, Scotland | Dawn |
| 7 | 2015/06/29 - 2015/07/08 | Scotland, England: Dorset | Dawn, Beth, Lorraine, Pip |
| 8 | 2015/07/09 - 2015/07/18 | Isle of Wight, Frankfurt | Beth, Lorraine, Pip |
| 9 | 2015/07/19 - 2015/07/28 | Black Forest Train, Danube Cycle Trail - Donaueschingen to Dillingen | Laura, Gabi |
| 10 | 2015/07/29 - 2015/08/07 | Danube Cycle Trail - Dillingen to Linz | Laura, Gabi |
| 11 | 2015/08/08 - 2015/08/17 | Danube Cycle Trail - Linz to Vienna, Vienna, Budapest, Kalocsa | Laura, Gabi, Michelle |
| 12 | 2015/08/18 - 2015/08/27 | Budapest, Nagykanizsa, Croatia: Čakovec, Varaždin, Krapina | NA |
| 13 | 2015/08/28 - 2015/09/06 | Croatia: Krapina, Zaprešić, Jastrebarsko, Belavići and area, and then to Ogulin where Brent's "Traveler Tummy" got the better of him. | NA |
| 14 | 2015/09/07 - 2015/09/16 | Croatia: Sick days in Ogulin, train to Rijeka, first taste of Istria: Opatija, Medveja, Mount Učka, Lovran, Labin. | NA |
| 15 | 2015/09/17 - 2015/09/26 | Croatia (Istria): Labin, Marčana, Premantura, Kamenjak, Pula, Rovinj, Novigrad, Monkodonja, Kanfanar. | NA |
| 16 | 2015/09/27 - 2015/10/06 | Croatia: Kršan, Lovran, Rijeka. Ditched our bikes/gear. Zadar, Plitvice, Split. | NA |
| 17 | 2015/10/07 - 2015/10/16 | Dubrovnik (Croatia), Sarajevo (Bosnia) and Cappadocia (Turkey). | NA |
| 18 | 2015/10/17 - 2015/10/26 | Cappadocia (Turkey) and train journey: Venice, Innsbruck, Luzern, Geneve, Bruges. | NA |
| 19 | 2015/10/27 - 2015/10/31 | End of trip: Bruges, Dublin, Paris, home. | NA |
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