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Here is the account of one international adventure. We start our tale in the air above London on December 18th, 2010. Two United Airlines flights had spent 8 hours in the air and crossed nearly the entire Atlantic ocean when they were informed that they would not be able to land in London. Snow clouds had moved in and the airport was completely shut down. They pointed their noses south and, much to the consternation of their passengers, touched down at Charles de Gaule airport in Paris.

Meanwhile, I was packing the final items into my suitcase. I looked out the window. So far so good. Snow was in the forecast but it wasn't falling yet. The storm the weekend before had shut down the Paris airports because of only a couple of inches of snow. If the snow started falling, my flight might not be leaving. I jumped in bed for some quick sleep.

4 hours later my alarm went off. I dragged my luggage downstairs where my wonderful friends C and B were waiting for me. As I carried the bags to the car, snow was falling from the sky at a steady rate and already starting to accumulate on the ground. It continued falling during the whole drive to the airport. We saw an accident that bottled up traffic for 5 or 10 minutes, emphasizing the fact that Paris isn't really used to snow.

I went through airport check-in without any problems and was one of the first people into the waiting area. The sun had finally come up but it was a pale light hidden behind several layers of clouds. The snow was falling heavily now. We could see tractors and salt trucks driving all over the place, trying to clear off the major paths and runways. One of the other passengers, who had wireless on his cell phone, told us that according the United Airlines website our flight was to be delayed an hour and 15 minutes- we would leave at 1:00. Looking out the window, we wondered if we would leave at all. He also told us that the airport had been closed to all incoming flights. The only reason we could leave at all was because of those 2 flights that had not been able to land in London the night before. They were now refueled and ready to return to the US.

As 1:00 approached it was obvious that we would not be leaving on time. The tractors finally plowed out the path for our airplane at about 12:45, and they announced that the flight would be leaving at 1:40. Then they said that boarding would begin at 1:20. We all snickered. Never in the history of humankind has an international airplane boarded in 20 minutes, much less boarded and then taken off. Our plane actually showed up at about 1:45. Boarding started at 2:00 and continued until about 2:45. Then we sat in the airplane for 45 minutes. The cockpit channel on the radio provided the details- the snow plows, in their zeal for clearing the main road, had created a wall of snow behind our airplane and we couldn't back out. Finally they came back through and cleared our way. Then we sat in line for de-icing for 45 minutes. Finally, at 4:00, we lifted off from Paris.

We arrived in Washington DC a good 4 hours late. I was exhausted and I had a headache. In Paris it was already midnight. I had been awake for 20 hours, and I had only had 4 hours of sleep the night before. They told us to go get our bags and check in at the counter, but they didn't specify in which order we should do those things. I took a guess and waited for my bags first. That ended up being a very good choice, even though my bags were nearly the last ones off the plane.

When I got to the counter they told me that I would be flying to Chicago at 6:00 the next morning. Then they said maybe it would be better if I flew to Chicago that night and slept in the terminal there, then took the flight to my destination the next morning. Either way, I would be sleeping in a terminal. I said I would rather fly to Chicago. I knew that major snowstorms were supposed to hit Washington, Chicago, and my destination the next day and I figured the closer I was to home the less likely I was to get stuck in the storm or miss transfers due to weather delays.

Then the guy said maybe he could find a flight for me on another airline. Sure enough, he found one. He asked me if I already had my bags. I said yes. He slapped some stickers on them and told me that my plane was supposed to leave in 20 minutes. Boarding had already started and I had better get through customs quickly.

I rushed down the hallway. To my relief the customs lady looked tired and bored. She accepted my brief and somewhat non-descriptive description of Speculoos and waved me through. I tossed my suitcases on the belt and then got in line for security. My bag was labled as highly suspicious and they had to dig through it to find the dangerous device that nobody in Paris had bothered to notice- a half empty tube of toothpaste. That disaster averted, they allowed me to sprint down the hallway and into the concourse. I screeched to a halt at the correct gate and saw, to my relief, that the flight was running 45 minutes late.

That flight was nice and empty. We even arrived in Chicago ahead of time! Then I got to explore the labyrinth that is O'Hare. I had to switch airlines, so I went from one end of the airport to the other. It felt like more than a quarter mile. When I got there another girl was asking about her bags. She apparently hadn't gotten the nifty stickers like I had gotten back in Washington. The guy at the desk said that she would have to go back and get her bags, then go through security- except that security was already closed for the night. So he called a buddy of his in the baggage area and asked him to do a personal favor- look out for the girls bags and if he saw them, have somebody take them over to the correct airplane. Oh my. I hope she got her bags!

We got on the plane and landed at my final destination just before midnight. I had been traveling for more than 24 hours. My bags weren't there, but they did show up the next day. And sure enough, the airports got covered with snow. My family drove back home on very icy roads and fairly heavy snowfall. What a trip!