By this time it was midnight, and my brain was not at its most alert after the evening's events. I had no connections or family in Burbank to call on for assistance, and no smart phone to help me search for a hotel. The airport was closing as soon as we were all taken care of; no cabs lingered out front. I had chosen to re-book on the 7:15 AM flight to Oakland since I have so little time at home on weekends, so even if I could get to a hotel there wouldn't be much time to sleep before I had to return to the airport. Putting all of these factors together I decided to join several other passengers who also had elected to spend the night at Burbank Bob Hope Airport.
TSA regulations require the gate area to be closed since there were no flights, so we trooped out to the ticket counter area. Most people had luggage to pick up, some of which was wet inside due to the rains. At least they had toothbrushes; not me, since I travel with just a book to read and odds and ends. (I now have a toothbrush in my bag, just in case.) I chose a chair and plopped down with my iPad open to a book. After a while some Southwest people brought out cans of juices and water, cups, ice in a cooler, and bags of peanuts to snack on since restaurants in the terminal were closed. The cleaning crew vacuumed, the lights stayed bright, the background music blared in the quiet, every few minutes we were reminded not to accept bags from strangers---not a quiet night but we were in a cool place with restrooms available, all in all not awful. When E was in Paris years ago, she slept on the sidewalk when the train terminal closed and everyone had to leave the building.
I tried a time or two to put my head down and nap, but it didn't work. At least one man lay on the floor, covered his eyes and slept; I heard him snoring. But I didn't want to lie on the floor. I walked around a bit, but mostly I read and talked to others who were stranded.
By 5:30 TSA opened the security checkpoint and we began to move back to the gate area. Coffee shops opened by 6, providing caffeine and food. My plane was already sitting there; I guess it also spent the night at Bob Hope. We boarded via the stairs to the front and back of the 737 and left on time. I arrived in Oakland about 8:15, Randy picked me up promptly. After a quick shower I left for my committee meeting at church, having discovered that I am usually fine in the morning after a sleepless night but fatigue sets in by late afternoon.
The Southwest agents were calm, at least when I was fourth in line. Perhaps by the last passengers, after repeating the same information and apologies many times, they were not quite as polite; I don't know. One traveler said she would never fly Southwest again. I won't go that far, but I will brush up on what my rights are as a passenger on a cancelled flight. In all my trips to and from Phoenix this year, this is the worst experience. I've had delayed flights, which are tiresome, but no cancellations. I've never been stuck in a plane sitting on the tarmac for hours.
The return trip to Phoenix on Sunday left on time.
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