Why were we checking our rollaboards? How did we end up, thanks to Lufthansa Airlines, with a case of misshapen identity, to coin a phrase?
We're well known (some might say "notorious") among family and friends for wanting to limit our luggage to carry-on bags, what some airlines call cabin baggage. Our main reasons are to avoid damage to the bags and their contents, and to avoid spending long periods of time waiting at the airport arrival carousels for the bags to be delivered. We were reminded of that more than once as we traveled home.
We disembarked from Marina in Barcelona, and spent a couple of days in Barcelona mainly resting. We stayed in a fair-to-middling Indigo Hotel, an IHG property, that was a relatively short walk away from a large shopping mall and a variety of restaurants.
We said our goodbyes to Tom and Ellyn in the Barcelona Airport, as they headed toward southwest Colorado via Amsterdam and Istanbul on Turkish Airlines business class, while our immediate destination was Frankfurt via Lufthansa and an overnight stay in the FRA Airport Hilton before flying home, non-stop to Seattle on Condor, and then to Bellingham on Alaska.
At this point we were tired (youngsters like Tom and Ellyn can wear out us geezers) and still fighting colds accompanied by bad coughs. We thought of the chances of remote gates at either or both airports, and the thought of lugging our bags, two for each of us, on the steep stairs between the plane and the tarmac was unappealing. For a short flight on one of the world's leading airlines, what could go wrong if we checked our bags? What indeed?
We landed in Frankfurt and we did have to walk down the stairs and board a bus to take us to the terminal.
We made our way to the baggage carousel, and waited. Then we waited some more. Then a sign was illuminated saying our luggage was delayed and asking for our patience.
Eventually the bags arrived. As we pulled up our handles, we noticed that Kathy's was completely mangled with a part missing. What to do?
Years ago, we experienced a similar problem at London Heathrow and British Airways gave us a rather inferior replacement on the spot. When we arrived at the Lufthansa office that handled such matters, we learned their intent was the same.
The Lufthansa employees offered us a Hobson's choice. We could have the bag repaired by a qualified repairman. However, they don't work on Sunday and today happened to be a Sunday. Otherwise, we could choose a replacement bag on the spot. The suitcases themselves were the Travelite brand and quite decent. The problem with that was the carry-on they were offering was the puny European size that wouldn't have held what Kathy's carry-on contained. Other than that, there was a medium suitcase and a large suitcase.
We told them we would really just prefer to get some sort of reimbursement in Euros. We buy cheap bags at places like Costco, and usually pay well under a hundred dollars for a rollaboard. You might say we're not high rollers. Accordingly, we would have been happy with a forty-Euro settlement but were told that wasn't possible.
We checked Lufthansa's own terms after we returned home, and our reading of that and EU regulations indicates we had a right to cash compensation, but that isn't what the Lufthansa employees told us.
Shame on them, we think. In the meantime, the conversation took an unpleasant turn, all because of the photo below that Brian snapped of Lufthansa's replacement luggage inventory.
The heretofore civil employee suddenly went ballistic and accused Brian of taking a photo of him. That was illegal and he was going to call the police. Brian, who was trying to conceal his amusement at the employee's almost hysterical outburst, told him to feel free to call the police. At the same time, a female employee approached us and said ominously, "The laws are different in Germany." We did read later that there are significant restrictions in Germany, even in public places, on taking photos of individuals without their permission.
The thing is that Brian only took a photo of the luggage, not of any people. Technically, he apparently should have asked permission to take any photos while on Lufthansa property, but it was a tempest in a teapot.
The employee demanded to see the photo, and the photo before it. Once he saw that the two photos on Brian's phone were of our own damaged rollaboard and of Lufthansa's stack of replacement bags, the great climb-down took place.
We took a midsize suitcase with no paperwork or receipt.
They seemed strangely happy to be rid of us, and we were happy the Polizei didn't appear on the scene to interrogate us.
We checked in at the Hilton where we'd again been upgraded to a large suite. One last taste of luxury!
A walk-in closet and a bathtub!
We eventually packed the broken rollaboard inside the new suitcase as we had no practical place to leave it.
We savored our final European meal of the trip at the Paulaner Restaurant on the other side of the FRA Squaire from the Hilton. Zwiebelschnitzel for Brian and Goulaschsuppe for Kathy.
The next morning we checked it in and flew a non-too-comfortable flight in Condor's Premium Economy section non-stop from FRA to SEA. We had a lot of legroom, sitting adjacent to the A330's exit door, but the seats themselves were cramped and unyielding.
The good-sized German Shepherd (naturally) that sat many rows behind us was undoubtedly even more crowded.
Wouldn't you know it? Our checked luggage was delayed after we landed in Seattle. Yes, we waited 45 minutes at the carousel for our new suitcase to appear. We kept ourselves awake with Cappuccinos in the Alaska Lounge until our flight departed several hours later.
We are blessed with great neighbors on both sides of us, and one of them was waiting for us when we landed at Bellingham International Airport after our short flight.
This time, given the size of BLI, it wasn't a long wait at the baggage carousel, and before long we were riding up I-5 in Bob's snazzy jeep, looking forward to home.
Now where to store our shiny new suitcase? We'll figure that out another day.
