Luxembourg & Metz

This is the crazy story of Zethy and I’s short getaway in winter 2020. We planned a simple trip to Luxembourg and Metz (France), but what we got was anything but simple. Here’s how it all went down.

It started with my flight from Ottawa to Luxembourg, connecting through Heathrow and Munich. Things seemed fine until I landed at Heathrow and saw LH2473 11:10 Cancelled on the departure board.

I immediately ran to the ticketing staff and she rebooked me on an earlier flight to Munich (LH2471). The catch? That flight was already boarding. I sprinted through Heathrow like my life depended on it. When I reached the gate, the staff let me in.

Not long before takeoff, the captain announced we’d need to wait for the wing flaps to defrost. I didn’t know this was normal at the time, and it definitely didn’t sound safe. Still, I made it to Munich safely, arriving earlier than I would've.

With three hours to kill in Munich, I thought, why not leave the airport and explore a little? So I walked towards the immigration. There, the officer stared at my passport longer than usual, flipping through it over and over. Finally, he said, “Come with me.”

They took my passport and sat me in a small room with a glass window. I could see the staff inside discussing something while I just waited, helpless. Twenty minutes later, they came back and apologized. Turns out they were looking for someone with the same birthdate as me.

By then, my excitement to explore Munich had faded. Not to mention I also lost half an hour already. I stepped outside the airport briefly, took a walk, and then headed back to my gate to wait for my flight to Luxembourg.

I landed in Luxembourg at 4:30 PM, exhausted but relieved. Zethy’s flight wasn’t arriving until later that night, so I grabbed my checked bag and just waited for her at the airport.

When she finally walked out of arrivals, she had no luggage. Her checked bag didn’t make it to Luxembourg and would only arrive the next day. Not ideal, but we had to move on—we had a train to Metz to catch.

We caught a bus to the train station. Few stops before our stop, there were roadworks that caused a massive traffic jam. The bus was in standstill. Knowing we’d miss the last train to Metz if we stayed, we jumped off the bus and ran several blocks to the station, arriving just in time.

We reached Metz around midnight, where Zethy’s best friend Rahmah was waiting outside our hotel. She brought some of her clothes for Zethy, saving the day until her luggage arrived.

The next day, we took a train back to Luxembourg and spent the day exploring the historic city. We visited the Grand Ducal Palace and the National Museum of History and Art, learning about the country’s origins, its steel industry, and how it became the richest country in the world.

The following day, we toured Metz, a charming French town with stunning architecture and rich Roman history. At the Museum of La Cour d’Or, we delved into Metz’s past. That evening, Rahmah hosted us for dinner, which was a perfect way to wrap up the day. Or was it.

During dinner, I got a text about my return flights. Originally, I was supposed to fly Luxembourg → Frankfurt → Toronto → Ottawa. But due to a massive storm disrupting flights across Europe, my flights were rebooked to Luxembourg → Heathrow → Ottawa the day after.

That meant we had an extra day in Metz, so we made the most of it. We visited the Pompidou Center, grabbed sushi for lunch, and then took the train back to Luxembourg. Once there, we checked into a hotel near the airport and walked over to confirm if my morning flight was still on schedule. So far so good.

The next morning, we woke up at 5 AM, dragged our bags to the airport in freezing wind, and found out all flights were canceled until further notice. At the ticketing counter, the British Airways staff said she can find me a replacement flight to London in the evening but nothing can be done in the morning. And the connecting flight? Well that’s not their problem, that’s Air Canada's problem they said. As I will regret later, I turned down their offer to make a call to Air Canada. Well, Air Canada can’t do shit. Zethy meanwhile took the evening British Airways flight to London.

I was still hoping for a miracle that the plane can still takeoff in the next couple hours. I waited and waited until the window closes. I was officially stranded in Luxembourg.

Zethy comforted me, and I started looking for alternatives. I scoured through websites to find my way back. I found a promising one, WestJet from London Gatwick to Toronto then Ottawa the following day. Desperate to get back, I turned a blind eye on the price and hit purchase. Now I need a way to get to London. I found a RyanAir flight that evening and purchased.

We camped at the airport until our flights. Zethy’s flight was half an hour before mine so she flew first. We went through a lot that day, we couldn’t part ways yet just like that. She wanted to properly send me off on my flight to Toronto. The plot twist? She’ll be landing in London Heathrow. I’ll be landing in London Stansted. My WestJet flight will be departing from London Gatwick. And I don’t have roaming to navigate across London and not to mention limited battery capacity.

When I landed in London Stansted, with the airport wifi, I cached my google map for offline use. I took screenshots of every step, every direction. The general idea is I need to take a train from there to Liverpool Street Station and another one to London Gatwick. I went to the train station to buy my tickets. And lo and behold, no trains were operational from the airport because a tree fell down on the track because of the storm. I had no choice but to take a bus to Liverpool Street Station.

The bus was late, and at one stop in Stratford, I sat idle for half an hour because another bus was blocking the narrow street. Eventually, I reached Liverpool Street and caught one of the last trains to Gatwick.

By some miracle, I reunited with Zethy at the airport. We spent the night sleeping on the airport chairs, exhausted but glad we made it through.

The storm had finally passed, and my flight the next morning was on schedule. When I boarded, something felt off. The seat was wider, there were toiletries provided, and the flight attendant handed me a menu before takeoff. I turned to the passenger next to me and asked, “Is this premium economy?”

“Yes.”

I had accidentally booked premium economy.