Portugal Day 1: Rain Delay

We were ready. Bags packed. House clean. Bedsheets changed. Floors vacuumed. The kind of pre-vacation preparedness that makes you feel like you might finally be becoming real adults. We were on time.

But alas, the winds were not in our favor.

Quite literally. Storms rolled in from the west right as we were heading to the airport. Somehow, we still made it there in mostly light sprinkles and even managed to get from the parking garage to the terminal without getting rained on. Check-in was easy. Security didn’t even pull Aaron aside for additional screening, which honestly felt suspiciously lucky.

That was about where our luck ran out.

To preface all of this: our flight to Lisbon had a 65-minute layover in DC. It was already going to be tight.

Once we got to the airline lounge, we quickly realized we might be in trouble. The place was packed with stressed-out people staring at their phones, pacing around, and loudly explaining their travel disasters to anyone within earshot. Apparently DFW had issued a ground stop because of the storms, meaning no planes were taking off or landing for over an hour. Flights all over the airport were getting delayed, delayed again, and eventually canceled.

We tried not to panic because our app still confidently said our flight was “On Time.”

As more people around us started spiraling, we entered full travel-monitoring mode. We rotated between the airline app, the DFW airport app, the weather radar, and a flight tracker like we were running an air traffic control operation from two lounge chairs.

Everything was still looking okay until the pilot of our incoming plane took a hard left turn south to dodge a storm cell (the absolute chicken).

Even then, the app still said “On Time.”

About an hour before departure, it became pretty obvious the plane was going to arrive late to the gate. Somehow the app still insisted everything was fine. We asked one of the lounge agents if there was anything we should do since literally any delay would cause us to miss our connection in DC.

She looked at our tickets and confidently told us, “Oh, you guys are good. You’ll make it.”

Fifteen minutes before boarding, with the app still claiming the flight was on time, we left the lounge and headed to the gate. The area was absolute chaos. Multiple delayed flights were all boarding from neighboring gates, people were crowded everywhere waiting for updates, and the airline had rolled out carts of complimentary snacks for stranded passengers.

We have never seen human beings attack free bags of Lay’s potato chips with such urgency.

With ten minutes left before departure, we were all standing at the gate staring at… absolutely no airplane. The app still said “On Time.”

Right around the moment we were technically supposed to be taking off, the plane finally rolled up and started to deplane, and the attendants verbally acknowledged the delay. That was also when the gate agent casually informed us that we could either spend the night in Dallas or spend the night in DC.

Since our checked bags were already on the plane, we chose DC.

Midway through the flight, we got the notification that our Lisbon flight had officially been rebooked for the next day. At that point, we were mostly just trying to accept our fate.

Before landing, the captain made an announcement asking everyone to remain seated and allow passengers with tight international connections to deboard first. We had already mentally given up on making our flight, so when the plane stopped, we just sat there and let people rush past us.

Oddly, it seemed like almost the entire plane had a tight connection.

When we finally made it into the terminal, the airport was nearly empty. It was only a few minutes before our Lisbon flight was supposed to depart. Boarding had already closed, our bags were absolutely not going to make it, and we were already discussing where exactly to stay when someone gets stranded at Dulles Airport.

That was when we suddenly heard:

“Last call for Lisbon.”

We immediately started running. By the time we made it to our gate, there was no one there. Just an empty gate, a dark jet bridge, and the quiet little realization that Lisbon had left without us.

Since the airport was mostly dead at that point, we stepped over to two gate agents working at a nearby gate and asked what we were supposed to do next. They gently confirmed what we already knew. We were not going to Lisbon that night, and our bags would not be waiting for us at baggage claim.

They helped us figure out the next steps, let us know the airline had comped us a hotel for the night, and kindly congratulated us on our 10-year anniversary in the middle of the whole mess.

Not exactly the romantic Lisbon arrival we had planned, but after the night we were having, a little kindness (and comped room and meals) went a long way.

So now, instead of wandering around Lisbon, we’re spending the night near Dulles Airport, luggage-less, mildly defeated, and debating whether this counts as the first day of vacation or a very expensive side quest.

Stay tuned to find out whether our bags, our itinerary, or our dignity make it to Portugal first.