Having a major trip unexpectedly canceled is one of the most difficult things to deal with in life. If you’re a true traveler, you understand.
For me, planning an overseas trip is like creating something. It’s giving birth to a dream. And when it suddenly and unexpectedly cancels, it’s almost like dealing with a death. I go through all the emotional stages of grief.
I start with disbelief and denial. How can this happen? Maybe there’s a mistake? This can’t be happening to me.
Then I get angry. It’s not fair. I’ve put too much time and effort into this. I’ve looked forward to this for too long. My bags are already packed. I’m going to lose money.
Unfortunately, bargaining rarely works when it comes to travel plans. You must move on to depression and acceptance. Some things are just out of your control.
I will admit that sudden trip cancellations have been rare in my travel life. For that, I feel lucky. I know some people who seemed to be plagued with it.
I’ll never forget Christmas of 2010. I was booked to travel to Germany to visit various Christmas Markets and end up in Garmisch-Partenkirchen for the holiday. Just hours before I was leaving for the airport, I received a text from the airline saying my flight to Europe had been canceled with no alternate offered. It seems that overnight Germany had been hit with an unusually strong snowstorm that closed Frankfurt Airport and left thousands without power in the cold winter weather.
We all know that the airlines will try to re-accommodate you on “the next available flight”, which in this case ended up being 5 days later. It was, after all, the busiest week of the holidays. That kind of shot a hole in my 10-day trip. A very big hole.
I was in denial. How could this happen?
So, I went to Vegas. At Christmas.
But that was pre-pandemic.
In September of 2019, I started to put together a 2-week trip to Italy departing in late April of 2020. I was going to visit a variety of smaller towns and villages which I had never been to before and incorporate an independent 4-day inn-to-inn walking trip in Umbria in the middle of it.
I did my research on where I wanted to go, how it would best fit together, and built the perfect itinerary. I even scored an incredible airfare booking 8 months in advance and locked in reservations at perfectly located small hotels in each town. In the months to come, I would finalize day trips, reconfirm train schedules, and explore restaurants and bar options.
And then COVID came to town.
At first, I thought surely things will be OK by late April. I mean, how bad could this thing really be? Then Italy became the hotspot in Europe, and everything shut down. And I mean everything.
So, I reluctantly punted on my trip to Italy. The one I had planned so carefully and looked forward to for so long. I was in grief.
By September of 2020, I felt secure enough to rebook the trip in its entirety for April of 2021. I had done all the work, all I had to do it put the pieces back together. And they fit perfectly, assuming that everything would be reopened by then.
By about November, I started thinking April may be just a bit premature for the airlines to resume all their international service and the small hotels to reopen to guests. I moved everything to late May. Surely things would be OK by then.
By January 2021, I realized that May wasn’t going to happen either. It was too soon. But there were vaccines now and optimism and hope reemerged in the travel industry. If I couldn’t experience spring in Italy, I could easily settle for early autumn.
I moved everything to October. The weather would be perfect. It was harvest time in the vineyards. Life was good.
This was the 4th incarnation of this trip. I had both my vaccinations and the flimsy paper CDC vaccine record. What could go wrong?
At about 45-days out from my October departure, I had to make a judgment call once again. The incredible airfare which I had successfully been able to rebook 3 times unfortunately had me routed via London Heathrow on the way to Italy. Italy now required a mandatory 5-day quarantine for any passenger originating, visiting, or transiting the UK without regard to vaccine status or test results. A simple 2-hour flight connection at Heathrow ruined everything. I looked at virtually every other option available. Rerouting at that point would have more than doubled my airfare. I guess that’s what I get for not foreseeing the UK would become such a pariah to the rest of Europe.
Thank you, Delta. And I’m referring to the variant, not the airline. Although I do hate them both.
It took about a week to come to the acceptance that I would once again have to cancel this trip. I was angry. I was in disbelief. But I finally pulled the trigger and canceled everything. Piece by piece. Again.
It’s been several months now, and I’ve decided to rebook the exact same trip in its 5th incarnation for May of 2022. I’m not giving up. It’s become a life challenge. This time, however, I am avoiding Heathrow on the way over.
It took quite a bit of creativity to get the airline to accept and reissue a ticket that would be close to 3-years old by the date of travel (which is another story) and I’ve been able to rebook the hotels. I’ve got my booster shot and I’m now cautiously looking forward to 2022.
If… no, when I finally get to Italy again, you can be sure I’ll be posting plenty of photos on Instagram and blogging about each stop along the way. I’ll be so excited, I may never leave.
What? Omicron?
I dare you.
