We Heart Rick Steves

I have been SO lazy since our family reunion is over, and Chris went back to Australia. The only way I could possibly have been lazier today would have been to just stay in bed. And I haven’t made any effort to mine the material from my cruise to write something interesting for you here.

So here is my only travel-related thought:  if you go to Italy, bring home some limoncello. Oh,  I know. We drink some in a sunny spot in Sorrento or after a great dinner in Rome and spend half an hour debating over the different brands in the duty-free shop, right? Then you open up the bottle back home and well . . . wah, wah, wah.

Did I choose the wrong brand (again)? Does it lose something traveling for eight hours in the overhead bin of a 727? Whatever the reason, I had resigned myself to the idea that bringing limoncello home from Italy is just a waste of those last Euros burning a hole in my pocket at the Rome airport.

Store selling limoncello and all things lemon in Sorrento

Well, the other night I went to my women’s study club meeting at my friend Diane’s house. Diane is always a great hostess, and with a selection of wines and soft drinks, she also had set out a bottle of limoncello, a bottle of tonic and a little dish with fresh mint leaves. She suggested mixing the limoncello with tonic, add ice and a crushed mint leaf and – mamma mia! Now that’s a great, refreshing drink!

So go ahead and buy another bottle the next time you’re in Italy. I’m bringing one back in October for certain. And grazie mille to Diane!

Keeping up with this blog has made me realize how much I am a forward-thinking kind of gal as opposed to one who likes to remember and recall what already happened.

There is so much material I truly do want to write about from the river cruise. But . . . now I’m working on plans for my next trip and I’m all about THAT! Yesterday I booked our hotel room in Rome and looked into cooking classes and a walking tour and cooking experience in the city. This will be my fifth visit to Rome and I’m excited to be going with a friend who would rather do those kinds of things, rather than go to the standard historical attractions (which I have visited numerous times – and loved. But, numerous times).

My friend Fran has been my buddy since we walked from Geneva Elementary School to Assumption School for catechism every Wednesday afternoon from second grade on. The nuns were of an order that wore odd habits reminiscent of how stewardesses on Vatican Airways may have dressed in 1950. Fran has never been to Europe and when she told me a couple years ago that she really wanted to try a Mediterranean cruise, I told her to count me in when she was ready to take the plunge (figuratively speaking).

So we signed up for this great deal on Costa Cruises, sailing for seven days beginning on Oct. 8. Yes, Costa is the cruise line that went on the rocks off the coast of Italy not long ago. But I come from the school of thought that the safest airline to fly on is the one that just had a crash. I mean, what are the odds that the same thing will happen again to that airline anytime soon? That has to be true of ships too, I’m thinking. So, I told Fran I was game.

Since we’ll be beginning and ending in Rome, and Fran is of 100% Italian stock, I suggested we add a few days at the end as long as we’ll have already flown that far. We toyed with the idea of driving to Sorrento or any number of other trips, but renting a car is really expensive in Europe and so, we’re going to spend that time in Rome. Maybe take the train up to beautiful Orvieto one day.

Anyway. So that’s what I’m thinking about these days. If anyone has any suggestions for different things to do in and around Rome – particularly things that will be fun for my wine- and food-loving friend, Fran – please let me know! Grazie!

Okay. So the truth is I’m not sure I’ll ever get any good at making videos on my camera. The one embedded here is beyond lame. Be sure to click on it so you can hear me stumble over my words (hey, I am a WRITER – not a TALKER) and generally describe (and show) my stateroom on the Viking Primadonna in a fashion that is not likely to encourage anyone to sign up for a river cruise.

Despite a stupid video and a sampling of far-less-than-professional photos, I’d still like to tell you I think practically anyone would LOVE a river cruise. Note that I am saying practically anyone. If your idea of a good time is doing Jell-O shots at 4 a.m. and cheerfully raising your tank top whenever a joker hollers, “Show us your tits!,” then maybe you wouldn’t like a river cruise.

On the other hand, it’s only a rumor that you have to show proof of having either a pacemaker and/or walker before they’ll sign you up for a European cruise. Though these are popular accessories among the river cruise set, there also were several people on my cruise who weren’t dying their hair yet, I’m pretty sure. There was one lady, however, whose hair was such a Bozo-the-Clown shade of orange, it was very tempting to suggest she consider going au naturel.

Boy. I can write a lot before getting to the point. Have you noticed? Sorry.

A typical river cruise ship (at least the ones I’ve traveled in Europe) holds about 140 passengers. Yeah. They’re small! Nothing like those monsters of the Caribbean that host more people than live in my home town. The cabins, or staterooms, are small – but I guess they’re small on those gigantic ocean-going ships, too. Here’s my lame video showing you the room I shared with my cousin Carole:

I didn’t film the bathroom because, as you can see, I could barely figure out how to shoot the living and sleeping area, let alone a bathroom roughly half the size of my bedroom closet. What I do love about the river boats I’ve been in is that they do such an amazing job of making every square foot count in these little rooms. For instance, the beds are just high enough to slide a large suitcase or two underneath after you’ve unpacked. The beds aren’t as wide as a standard twin bed at home, but they’re certainly big enough and though quite hard, are comfortable enough.

I like that there’s a place for everything and, if you’re willing to be neat and put things away as you use them, it can be perfectly comfortable for your week or so on the river. And of course, with so much to do, who’s going to hang around in the room for long, anyway?

Viking Primadonna docked somewhere on the Danube

Here’s a photo of the Viking Primadonna, Viking’s only catamaran (two-hulled) ship on the Danube River. I’m pretty sure they said they were going to be retiring the Primadonna at the end of this season, which I think is a shame. Because of the catamaran configuration, there was additional space down the center of the ship that made the entire boat roomier than other river boats I’ve been on in the past.

On the “first floor,” there is a main entrance in the center of the ship that leads to a little lobby with a reception desk. Like a hotel, the desk is always manned by ship personnel and one of their many jobs is to collect room keys before people leave for excursions on shore, then give them back when we return. This ensures that the ship doesn’t leave without anyone. Although, they do say they will. If it’s time to sail (and due to scheduled docking times, or appointments to go through locks, there’s not a lot of wiggle room with departure times), if you’re not back on board, you may have to take a taxi to the next docking location – and at your own expense. This would be a stupid and potentially very expensive error. On the last cruise, one day it appeared that a couple hadn’t returned when it was time to leave. After much fussing and fretting by the crew, I think they were discovered getting sloshed in the bar, having forgotten to turn in their day pass and pick up their key after the shore excursion. I’m not sure, but I think it was the woman with the orange hair.

Anyway, on that first floor there is a long lobby with couches and chairs in front of the registration desk. Cabins lined either side of the lobby. Behind the desk were an office and gift shop and more cabins on both sides. At the back end (no, I don’t know the nautical terms) there is a kind of multi-purpose room where people could go to exercise classes in the morning, and to lectures and small performances later in the day or evening. I’ll tell you more about activities on board and excursions on land another time since I fear I’m rapidly reaching the point where you yawn and go back to see what’s happening on your Facebook page.

I did not go down to the lower level where there are more cabins, so I don’t know if there’s anything else down there. These are the least expensive rooms; they have windows (that don’t open), but not balconies like the upper levels. The crew’s rooms are down there, and there’s a laundry and other worker-bee type places. It’s kind of like traveling steerage. The women all wear babushkas and they gather around in their own little communal dining hall to listen to fiddle music and dance at night.

The third and final upper level holds the last of the staterooms including some that are suites. I got a quick look at one of them once when I passed by as a maid was cleaning the room. There was a lady in an ermine bathrobe smoking a cigarette with a long black holder. The little poodle on her lap was snarling at the maid. Yeah. Honest.

The two most important public spaces on the ship are on that level with the rich people:  the dining room and the lounge. In the dining room there are mostly tables of six and you sit with whomever you happen to sit with. It doesn’t take long before people (yes, we are guilty) become proprietory about their tables. There is no assigned seating, so people scramble to get THEIR tables when the doors open for dinner at 7:00.  Since there is always a briefing before dinner in the multi-purpose room, telling us what’s going on the next day, it’s a mad dash up the stairs and down to the other end of the ship when the program director is done talking.

Since there were four of us in my little group, we took turns being the person to stand near the door and sneak out early to go upstairs and claim our table as soon as the doors opened. Some of the older people who don’t move quite as spryly didn’t have a chance. Sometimes we’d let a couple with walkers join us, but only if they looked like fun, despite being less than spry.

The same waiter always serves the same area, so people also become attached to their waiters. Ours was a guy named Sunny from Bulgaria. His name really is Sergei, but since there were three or four other Sergei’s on the boat, he went for the nickname. He was a delightful young man who talked a little like Boris from the “Rocky & Bullwinkle” cartoons, but then, practically everyone working on the ship sounded like either Boris or Natasha, now that I think of it. The pre-cruise, add-on trip was to Transylvania. So there you go, right? Yes, I know Boris and Natasha were supposed to be Russian spies, but now that I’ve heard Bulgarians and Serbians and Croats – I’m thinking they were actually Eastern European.

So we would dash to Sunny’s station not only because that was OUR TABLE, but also because Sunny took care of us. He knew what wines we liked with dinner (hey – wine is free with dinner on Viking cruises. Yay!) and he would give us very quiet hints about what our best dinner choices would be. I am going to try to put a photo of a menu here from the Captain’s Dinner on our last night:

Menu from the Captain’s Dinner

I did not pay attention to Sunny’s suggestion for this dinner and chose something on the menu that was pretty crappy. I won’t say which choice it was. I will say, if you have a good waiter – pay attention and take heed of his warnings. However, for the most part the food on board is really very good. Here’s how it works:

Breakfast – a huge buffet with eggs and breakfast meats, pastries, breads, cereals, fruits, cheeses, yogurts, juices and more. And you also could choose from a menu, something like pancakes or Eggs Benedict. Sunny brings you coffee (on this cruise, it was beyond strong and not that good, honestly) or tea or whatever. If you want a Coke or a mimosa for breakfast, you’d have to put the charge on your tab. Everything else is included. More about the bar thing later.

Lunch – another huge buffet primarily packed with salads and salad fixings. On this cruise, there were a number of (I thought) odd foods that I wouldn’t eat. I can’t remember what they even were now. Weird salads. Then there’s a menu with a few other choices, like soups, a sandwich option, a hot entrée or two. I can’t remember if soft drinks were free with lunch or not.

Dinner – a menu at each place setting offers you a choice usually of three first courses, three entrees, and a couple of desserts or a cheese plate to finish. If you don’t like any of the entrée choices for the night, you can always choose a steak, chicken breast or salmon instead. Wine, beer or soft drinks are free with dinner.

More about the bar thing:  the ships always offer a beverage package that basically includes all the booze and soft drinks and beer and wine you can choke down, any time of the day or night, throughout the cruise. It’s expensive! I think it was 150 euros per person for this seven-day cruise. So, you could conceivably have a couple bloody mary’s with breakfast, some beer with lunch, stop by the bar for a few cocktails at happy hour, order a better wine with dinner, then get completely sloshed in the bar until you’re ready to pour yourself into bed. If that’s your thing, the package probably makes sense. If you’re more into chocolate than alcohol (like me!) – not such a smart deal. Just pay as you go. It will be cheaper.

And speaking of the bar, it’s located at the other end of the ship on the third floor, opposite the dining room. It’s open all day and evening, not closing (I’m told) until the last sod stumbles back to his cabin. You can stop by the bar any time and use a cool machine that makes cappuccinos and hot chocolate and regular coffee – all complimentary. That coffee was actually better than the coffee in the dining room, so toward the end of the cruise, I wised up and started bringing my own coffee from the machine to have with my breakfast.

There are also some breakfast pastries set up by the coffee machine in the morning, sometimes cookies in the afternoon, and usually fresh whole fruit. Oh, and yeah – if you want to walk past that great coffee machine and go into the BAR itself, there’s plenty of seating and an actual bar with the usual booze offerings. The entire place is all glass so you can watch the scenery as you imbibe. If we’re not all out dashing into the shops in a local town, you may find the same folks playing bridge or reading in the bar as we drift down the river. Very pleasant.

On the very top of the ship is a deck with lounge chairs and some tables and chairs, plus a hot tub. Weather and time permitting, it’s a great spot to get some fresh air and enjoy the beauty of life on a river. Here’s one cool photo from the Iron Gates, or Kazan Gorge, in Romania to give you an idea of how lovely the scenery can be:

Iron Gates, or Kazan Gorge, on the Danube River in Romania (and/or Bulgaria, Serbia, Croatia)

So I have now written nearly 2,000 words and haven’t even told you about the best part of being on a river cruise:  the excursions. Crap. If you’re not screaming by now, “For God’s sake, woman, SHUT UP!” – then maybe you’ll come back and I’ll tell you about how excursions work on river cruises next time.  Deal? Okay then.

A theme running through our visit to Eastern Europe was the centuries-long harassment of the good people of Romania, Bulgaria, Croatia, etc., by the Ottoman Empire. The story is that periodically, the Turks would gather their troops and tear up past the Black Sea to give their northern neighbors a hard time. They’d wreak havoc, burying their enemies in footstools, then taking over, making the defeated locals decorate their buildings with minarets and eat falafel.

At least, that’s my take on the situation. I visited Wikipedia to try to get a more accurate handle on the history of Bucharest, Romania, where we started our vacation, but it was frankly more than I was willing to tackle for this story. Suffice to say that practically everyone, with the possible exception of Genghis Khan, ripped through the area at one time or another. And while it’s called “Romania,” it appears that the Romans didn’t really leave a big footprint.

The Balkans

I just wish I had been forewarned about the Turk situation before we started taking our excursions. I would have taken more pictures of the fortresses that seemed to pop up everywhere we went. I didn’t pay enough attention early on, not being big on military history.

Not fortress-related but definitely pesky Turk-related, in the quaint Bulgarian village of Arbanassi we visited a nondescript old stone building that turned out to be the semi-disguised Bishopric Nativity Church. Inside this poky building the walls and ceilings were completely covered with the most stunning and vibrant iconic images! We couldn’t take photos inside the church, so below is a poor photo of a couple postcards I purchased. Now, why wasn’t the outside as gorgeous as the interior? It was to hide its beauty from the Turks so they wouldn’t be as tempted to destroy it.

Postcards of Nativity Church in Arbanassi, Bulgaria

Anyway, as we departed Arbanassi, we stopped to see a gigantic fortress spanning a ridge above the rolling countryside. It seemed to go on for miles and was quite picturesque, but yours truly was more interested in getting to the next stop where we were promised shops with local handicrafts in the Old Town. Okay. So I’m a girl – shoot me.

The next morning, there was an optional excursion from the ship to yet another fortress in the mountains nearby before we’d spend the afternoon cruising through the Iron Gates Gorge, or Kazan Gorge. Again, my dear cousins and I chose to look for cappuccinos and shoes in the riverside town of Vidin when we heard there was some serious uphill hiking to check out the fort. There were a couple of extremely good-looking men sitting at a café table next to ours. Half the people in town stopped to say hello to them. Oh. Later on we heard the fortress was awesome. Instead, here’s a pic of the cute Bulgarian guys (this doesn’t do them justice; I was trying not to be too obvious).

Hot Bulgarian guys

The next morning we arrived in Belgrade, Serbia and – you guessed it – immediately set out with the local guide to visit the city’s fortress. Belgrade also has a huge, beautiful Orthodox church under construction, a pretty, historic downtown and a reputation for a happening night life. Our adorable Viking Program Director Nevena Cvarkovic is from Belgrade and here she is on the bus:

The delightful Nevena from Viking Primadonna 2012

Boy. I seem to have a lot to say about fortresses and Turks without saying anything of value. I hope someone will comment, “Oh, Kate! It has ENTERTAINMENT value! Who cares about historical facts?”

We saw another fortress in Osijek, Croatia, and by that time, I realized this was something we could pretty much look forward to at every stop. Each country thought it was the last bastion against the marauding Turks, but sure enough, the Ottomans would take over one spot in, say, Bulgaria, then move on to stomp out another group further north. I’m not sure how far the Turks actually went, but my favorite variations on the fortress theme occurred in Croatia and Hungary.

On our way to Osijek, we stopped at a farm house in a little village along the way. The owner of this place would be a millionaire in the US. Talk about entrepreneurial! He apparently had some sort of canoe-rental/camping thing going on, plus bed & breakfast accommodations in his home. He had a large sort of rec hall set up with chairs and – best of all – a handful of sparkling clean bathrooms making it the ideal place for tour buses like ours to stop. After using the facilities, we sampled some local wine and snacks, then rushed to the tables on one side of the room to buy wine, jars of jam, and a variety of Croatian souvenirs from the farmer and his family.

This entertaining farmer gave a PowerPoint presentation, telling us a little about Croatia with much pride and a great sense of humor. Best of all was when he told us about how the Croatians stopped the Turks in their tracks by wearing scary, wooly masks and screaming at them like Braveheart warriors. I said to myself, now this is far more exciting than a pile of stones! Wouldn’t you love to have seen hundreds of screaming, wooly creatures charging toward the Turks, making them turn tail and run for the hills in horror?

Then in southern Hungary, where flat fields of grain and grasses made for great farming but poor defenses, the Turks were met by a different breed –dashing Hungarian horsemen. Surrounded by fields as far as the eye could see, Puszta is a Hungarian ranch where horsemen dress in native costumes to demonstrate how these masterful riders defended their land.

Puszta horseman

Cracking their whips and hollering, the horsemen galloped around a large, dusty track in front of a little grandstand of observers. Years ago, brave horsemen like these amazed and effectively fought off the invading Turks by being able to ride backwards, shooting arrows at the enemy as their specially trained horses thundered across the plains. I was especially impressed with the guy who straddled two horses in the rear, standing with whip and reins in hand as the team of horses ahead charged around the ring.

Horsemen cracking their whips

My cousin Linda called it the Hungarian rodeo. And Cousin Carole thought it was too dusty. I thought it was awesome. There was more wine, more snacks, and more tables loaded with food, wine and tchotkes for sale after the show.

Having now seen a fair sampling of the fortresses and scary costumes and dashing horsemen of the Balkan States, I find myself more determined than ever to put a trip to Turkey even higher up on my bucket list. I mean, wouldn’t you like to hear the other side of the story, too? If you visit fortresses in Turkey, do they tell tales of the marauding Huns and Slovaks? I can hardly wait to find out . . . .

The absolutely wonderful thing about a great, big trip is that so much happens. So much to talk about. And write about.

On the other hand, the absolutely daunting thing about a big trip is that so much did happen! And there’s so much to talk about and write about . . . that I don’t quite know where to start.

I decided not to try to attack this in chronological order. I’m afraid I’d find myself writing scintillating prose like,”then we did this, and then we did that. On Tuesday we arrived in BLAH BLAH BLAH BLAH BLAH.”

Yawn. Click. Wait a minute . . . don’t click yet! This might get better.

So instead I’m going to write about the best apple strudel I ever ate in my life. I ate this killer strudel in one of the most magical cities I’ve ever visited – Budapest, Hungary. It’s not enough that this place is so beautiful, it takes your breath away. Here. Look at this:

view from our hotel room window in Budapest

Budapest kind of reminds me of Food Network chef Bobby Flay:  a really great looking guy who can also COOK. Talk about a double whammy.  And I don’t know why I called this post “easy as apple pie.” I do like a clever title, but the story doesn’t quite come together in any way that makes sense. I don’t think making an apple pie is easy, and I know making strudel wouldn’t be easy, either. I think a man must have made up that saying. Not Bobby Flay, however. Bobby would know that pastry is difficult, bless his little grilling heart.

Anyway, you can bet this strudel was made from scratch. No Pepperidge Farm frozen puff pastry in this baby. No Thank You! brand apple pie filling here. Here’s what the dessert looked like:

Killer apple strudel in Budapest

This strudel is the definition of buttery, flaky pastry goodness wrapped around warm morsels of sweet, fragrant apple filling. Oh, and there’s a precious little scoop of real vanilla ice cream. We’re talking full fat ice cream, the likes of which I haven’t eaten since Hector was a pup. Now, I think the low-fat, cold-churned stuff is pretty good, but mamma mia. There is definitely a difference. A forkful of strudel and ice cream was like a little party in your mouth. And as if that weren’t enough, there were these decadent drizzles of warm vanilla custard sauce and raspberry puree to drag the fork through to tip the scales from fabulous to perfection.  Holy cow! I’m thinking any cow responsible for the ingredients in that ice cream and custard would be one proud, bodacious bovine.

If you are lucky enough to find yourself in Budapest, look for the restaurant doing the strudel happy dance on the Buda side of the river, just up a block or so from St. Matthieu Cathedral. On this sunny side street you’ll pass a couple gift shops and a gelato store, and then plop yourself down at one of the tables under the green awning. This is Hadik Etterem Restaurant. The staff is friendly and the strudel was so amazing, we came back for more. The goulash soup was good, too. I might have this address totally screwed up since the Hungarian language is way beyond my abilities, but I think it’s on Szenthdromsdg utca 9-11. Or maybe that’s the owner’s grandmother’s birthday. Ask at the Hilton next to the cathedral and I bet they’ll know where to send you.

When all is said and done, I can guarantee that it’s worth every calorie and probably every Hungarian peso (what was that currency again?) I paid for it. I think this was a country where we paid for everything in thousands of something or other, so it’s hard to say.

You may wonder why I’m raving about strudel in Budapest when we went from there to Vienna, long hailed as  pastry and strudel nirvana, just a couple days later. Well, I did finally order strudel in Vienna on our last day there. I wasn’t officially on a strudel quest or anything, but I tried the cheese strudel at an outdoor cafe near St. Stephen’s Cathedral that was also very good. It actually was like a piece of cheesecake with a little pastry on the top and bottom. Very rich. Good, but not as good as the apple confection in Budapest. Maybe it’s like comparing apples and oranges, though. Apple strudel and cheese strudel. Never the twain shall meet?

At this point you’ll probably be glad to hear that this is all I have to say about food in Eastern Europe. Not that it wasn’t usually pretty good, but there were some mystery meals (including a lunch on the Lufthansa flight from Frankfurt to Bucharest) that were a little on the scary side. Cabbage featured prominently, and cabbage rarely makes anyone’s list of top ten favorite foods. Or top 20. Or even top 100, I’m willing to bet.

I will say, though . . . next time I’m going to try the Sacher tort, too. Life is too short to skimp on opportunities to try pastries. Am I right, or am I right?

This time last week I was jammed into a seat on an Austrian Airlines flight from Vienna to Washington, DC. I can’t say I care to repeat that experience for at least a little while. Whoever said, “Getting there is half the fun,” obviously was not referring to transatlantic travel in coach.

But BEING there was worth every sleepless hour going, and each irritated reply from the snippy male flight attendant coming home. A little tip if you’re ever flying Austrian Airlines: consider smuggling in your own sandwich fixings. The food is pretty bad. However, after passing out the dreary meals, the attendants return with huge baskets of fresh, hot crusty bread rolls. They even encourage you to take as many as you want! So pass on the pasta (awful), help yourself to a few rolls and pull out that salami and cheese.

I have so much to tell everyone about this trip. I took a Viking river cruise on the Danube River from Romania to Budapest, Hungary. We actually flew into Bucharest and spent one night there, with a quick tour of the city before heading by bus to the river, about two hours’ drive from the city.

The Viking Primadonna in port

Our seven nights on the Danube took us to towns and cities on or near the river in Romania, Bulgaria, Serbia, Croatia and Hungary. The trip ended with two nights in a nice Hilton on the hilly Buda side of Budapest – a fabulous city I’m already dying to visit another time. My cousin Carole and I went from Budapest to Vienna for four nights (we went by taxi – more on that later!), then home.

So – I’m back. I have tons of photos and lots of stories to share. As I settle into my routine and catch up on work, I find I can hardly wait to organize my materials and post more specific information here on this blog. I even took videos on my camera that look like something a caffeinated chimp might have shot, but we’ll see if the editing software can help me salvage any bits to post here.

So stay tuned . . . .

As I write, I’ve been on the phone with United Airlines for 44 minutes. I’ve been on hold most of this time waiting for the agent to “fix” our tickets for tomorrow’s flights from Cleveland to Toronto, to Frankfurt, to Bucharest. Needless to say, I am not feeling the love for United at the moment.

And now I have been disconnected . . . .

If the phone doesn’t ring soon, I will turn into one of those cartoon characters with smoke coming out of her ears and cheeks the color of smoked salmon. I swear!

Here’s what happened. I went to the United website about an hour ago to print out our itinerary. Cousin Carole (on the same reservation) and I are leaving tomorrow for our Viking River Cruise from Bucharest to Budapest. I knew it was too early to print out a boarding pass, and that all gets tricky with international flights, anyway. I think we have to show our passports at the airport first.

Anyway, in red, bold print it says to contact United because changes were made to our reservation on April 6. Yes, you read that correctly. More than a month ago!

My first thought is, gee, United has no trouble contacting me by email almost daily with “special” flights they’d like me to purchase. I was actually a Continental frequent flyer and had all my points there, but we are all happy UA campers since the merger. I am guessing since this ticket was booked last year, the merger may be the reason why there seems to be a problem today.

So having lost reservationist #1, I am now back at square one, having navigated the menu and answered questions to wait in the queue to talk to reservationist #2. As you may have guessed, I have just a few OTHER things I need to accomplish today. I did not budget for more than an hour on the phone with reservation issues.

I’m not saying Continental Airlines was much different from any other airline, but this merger has not gone smoothly, in my humble opinion. And in my not-so-humble opinion, I miss being an elite traveler on Continental where I was occasionally surprised with upgrades to first class. Not anymore. Too many people in one pot and whoever has the most miles gets the first seat. Drat!

And what was the problem that kept me on the phone with United for more than an hour? The departure times changed on two legs of the trip . . . by two minutes each time. WTF?

One thing I did learn, in case you don’t already know, is that a reservationist can be working on something for you for any length of time, but if you get disconnected for any reason, he or she CANNOT call you back! No, it’s not that they don’t want to finish up the work, necessarily. They are unable to place outgoing calls and the second a call finishes, another comes onto the reservationist’s line. The person who was on hold (like me) is SOL.

I don’t know what happened to the first woman I was talking with, but now that I know what the issue was and how these people must go nuts with no end to call waiting – I think she saw the two minute changes and put me on hold so she could sneak out for a potty break and a smoke. Maybe she needed time to get on her cell to ream out her boyfriend for being an ass last night. Or she didn’t want to miss a last minute bargain with Groupon, or . . . .