Never Fly Iberia

Saturday morning I got up at 7am to shower and get ready for my 9:55 flight to London. At 8am Kurt and I are in the car driving to the airport which is about 45 minutes away. We reach the airport just before nine and get in line to check in for my flight. I reach the front of the line at about a quarter after nine and the lady asks where I’m flying to. “London” I tell her. “Go to counter 18″ She says. I was confused as to why I couldn’t be helped at her line, but I went without question. I go to counter 18 and see that it was for late check in.

After 15 minutes I get to the front of that line which only consisted of three people including myself. My flight had just begun boarding, but I wasn’t worried because there weren’t many people there and there are only 12 gates in the whole airport. The lady at this counter asked where I was going and I told her, “London”. She gave a frown and directed me back to the line I came from. I told her that I had just come from there and she said, “Oh?” She looked at my info again and then said, “oh yeah, you’re late! I can’t help you. You need to be check in 45 minutes before departure for an international flight.”

I was directed to a third line to be issued another ticket. I reached the front of my third line 15 minutes before the departure of my flight, and this lady also tried to direct me back to the late check-in line. When I told her that I had just come from there she also did a second check and then said, “oh yes, you’re late!” I was again lectured about the need to be checked in 45 minutes before departure for an international flight, even though the night before Kurt had told me he had gone through after arriving at the airport 30 minutes before the departure of the exact same flight. The lady at the counter made three attempts to find a fight on another day, Sunday…booked, Monday…booked, Tuesday…booked. “I can’t help you. You’ll have to call British Airways.” She gave us the Spanish number for BA. Kurt called it on his cell phone from the airport…they’re closed on the weekend.

Kurt went up the counter for another number for BA and the lady was shocked to learn that they were closed on the weekends and didn’t have any other alternative. “I can’t help you” Was all she said. When we left the airport my flight was not only still there but was on last call…the doors weren’t even closed yet!

Kurt and I went back to his apartment and looked online for BA’s number. Gave them a call and after much waiting on hold, getting manager’s approval, and paying $165 in ticket change fees I got another flight. When relaying my new schedule, Catherine, the extremely helpful customer service person with BA began with…ok this isn’t pretty but it’s the best I can do…I had the same 9:55am flight from Bilbao Spain to London with a 24 hour layover in London…10:50am the next day a 10 hour flight to San Francisco with a five hour layover and then back to Seattle. That’s not how my flights actually played out but that was the schedule…