Troubles That Made Us...
...want to go home!
Riga Airbnb Cancellation
The first sign of trouble manifested itself about a month and a half before our travels! Our Airbnb host in Riga notified us that the property we'd booked, which was very conveniently located in Vecrīga, was no longer available. They offered us three alternatives at the same price, and after some deliberation, we chose the one that seemed relatively close to the Old Town. We breathed a sigh of relief when the new booking was finalised, but little did we know that it was only the beginning of a steady stream of troubles that would keep us on our toes during our three-and-a-half-week visit to Europe in September-October 2024!
Roaming Charges in Dubai through the Roof
Over $400 to be precise!
How did that come about? Well, we have enjoyed international roaming in Europe and Asia for a small daily fee since 2016, but we didn't realise that the roaming plan didn't cover the United Arab Emirates until it was too late. We were also so caught up in the delayed flight = missed connection saga that we only noticed the 'alert' text from our service provider when we woke up on our second day in Berlin.
Rakesh immediately called the service provider. After an hour of venting, pleading, arguing, holding and negotiating, the charge was reduced to $100.
Warsaw Airbnb: Earn Your Keep!
It was our penultimate day in Berlin. We were at Hauptbahnhof, waiting for the regional train to take us back to the Airbnb, when our Warsaw host messaged.
As she would be out of town on the day we arrive, she wouldn't be able to clean the property before our arrival. We had two options: we could either cancel the booking or clean the place ourselves. She'd understand completely if our preference was the former, but she'd give us a 50% discount if we chose the latter.
With only two nights to spend in Warsaw, the location of our Airbnb was crucial, and we didn't want to spend our holiday looking for a new one. We chose the second option.
So, after an eight-and-a-half-hour bus ride from Prague to Warsaw, followed by an Uber ride to the Airbnb, the first thing we did was clean the flat. We didn't have to wash the used towels and bedsheets, thankfully - the host told us to leave them in the small balcony. She had kept fresh towels, bedsheets, pillowcases and doona covers in a large zipped bag clearly labelled with my name. The cleaning products were also easy to find. It took us about an hour to prepare the place for our stay. Consequently, we missed the chance to visit the POLIN Museum.
No Trains from Prague to Warsaw
Being the organised sort that we are, we thought we'd drop by Prague Central Station to check out the platform for our train to Warsaw. We went to Customer Service and queued up. When our turn came, we asked the staff, a man who looked like he was in his late 50s-early 60s, the platform number for the České dráhy train to Warsaw. He was most unamused to be asked that question and what we gathered from his impatient semi-shout was that all trains to Warsaw, to any place via southwestern Poland, for that matter, were cancelled because of the flood. We asked how we would get to Poland and were grateful to catch the word 'bus'. We also asked how we could cancel our train tickets. Even if he understood the question and knew the answer, it seemed that he wasn't prepared to explain that in English. He dismissed us with a wave of his hand.
The shock and panic would've hit us less hard had the man been kinder and a little more understanding. Rakesh and ShNaajh quickly found the location of the Flixbus terminus, just over a kilometre away, and we started speed-walking. During the 15 minutes it took us to get there, all I could think about was what flow-on effects this disruption could have on our itinerary.
We were relieved beyond measure after purchasing the Flixbus tickets. I thanked the young man behind the counter so profusely that he perhaps wondered why I was grovelling!
We returned to Prague Central Station and spoke to a young man. He assured us that the train tickets would be cancelled and the money refunded. They were, eventually.
Vilnius Airbnb: Third Time Lucky
On our fourth day in Prague, our Vilnius Airbnb host messaged to inform that there would be no hot water in the apartment for most of our stay. We could cancel the booking, but if we chose to stay, he would refund us €80. Given it was the end of September and we could already feel the temperature dropping, we could not risk not having hot water. Even though we were due to arrive in Vilnius in three days, we went ahead and cancelled the booking.
Our search for a new Airbnb began. We found one quickly enough. The host had no information about any hot water disruption. We went ahead and booked, but as soon as we received the address, my smile turned upside down. The street number of the new Airbnb was the same as the previous one! We still stayed calm and reasoned with ourselves that this could be a different part of the same block of flats, hence still connected to hot water.
The feeling of calm, however, was short-lived. The new host messaged that night to advise that his flat also would not have hot water for the same days!
Back to the drawing board then! We were relieved to find another Airbnb on the same night and booked it straightaway. It ended up being the most conveniently located home-away-from-home of that entire trip.
Riga Is Not for Roaming
Soon after we arrived at our Riga Airbnb in the late afternoon, we headed out in search of food. However, it was only after going round in circles for some time that we realised that our internet had stopped working. This was most unusual. We called our service provider for troubleshooting. The consultant we spoke to tried for a long time, but it seemed that our roaming-luck had run out!
For the four days we were in Riga, we felt like Voldemort! As soon as we were out of the Airbnb, we latched onto any free Wi-Fi we could find, as Voldemort's wicked soul did when he unwittingly created a horcrux out of Harry Potter!
Not having reliable internet on the go meant we didn't risk venturing out of Riga. It also meant that soon came a time when we no longer needed Google Maps to find our way around the city!
Berlin Airbnb Nightmare
Our return flight to Melbourne was from Berlin, via Brussels and Abu Dhabi. For our one-night stay in Berlin, we booked an Airbnb in Neukölln. The host said the flat would be ready by 1:00 or 2:00 pm. Our flight from Riga arrived at Brandenburg at 7:40 am and then we took the train to Hauptbahnhof - we thought the Central Station would be a better place to kill five hours!
We left Hauptbahnhof at 12:45. We'd let the host know when we'd be arriving, but she didn't respond. The journey to Neukölln took about 40 minutes. As soon as we got off the train, the rundown neighbourhood made us second-guess our choice of Airbnb. The unusual number of youths loitering on a Monday afternoon was even more unsettling.
We walked to the building where the Airbnb was meant to be. The host still hadn't messaged. She also hadn't told us the flat number because she was meant to meet us at the entrance. I sent her a photo of the intercom buttons and asked which one was hers. I called her a few times, but she didn't answer. We didn't know what to do and didn't like the looks we were getting from the people around us. After waiting for what seemed like an eternity, a man emerged from the building on the left and asked if I was Tupur. This was the host's husband. The wife didn't pick up because their daughter was sick. It also turned out that they had the wrong street number listed on Airbnb!
The husband took us upstairs and showed us around the two-bedroom flat. We knew the amenities would be basic - for example, there would be no beds, only mattresses on the floor - but we found the dirt, grime and dust in the kitchen and bathroom to be quite repulsive. What we also didn't expect was the absence of curtains or blinds in a flat that was right opposite the train station. Once the piercingly bright and naked lightbulbs were switched on in the room facing the platforms, we felt we had centre stage! The lights in the other rooms were hauntingly dim!
The host suggested some kebab shops for lunch, but you can't blame us for resorting to McDonald's - we needed some familiarity around us to feel in control again.
We left the Airbnb the next day when it was still dark. During the wait for the Uber, ShNaajh grew increasingly fearful of the surroundings. She was convinced that the youths standing around and chatting that early in the morning were in a gang - they did not seem to have anywhere to go or anything to do! We were relieved to be heading to the airport.
We found out after returning to Melbourne that Neukölln did have a bit of a reputation for being dangerous.
Etihad Had Other Plans!
We were all set to board the flight to Brussels when Etihad notified us that we were going to Munich instead. It did not seem like a hassle until we got to Munich Airport. We had to board the next flight, to Abu Dhabi, from a different terminal, for which we had to walk to the train service and then to the shuttle bus. I cannot remember why the transfer took us forever - whether it was due to poor signage or because our brains were addled - but we, all sweaty and puffed, eventually got to the gate, to catch our flight to Abu Dhabi. At that point, all we wanted was to be home and paid very little attention to the airport.
The only positive of flying via Munich was the view from the aeroplane, including that of the Alps.
We arrived at Abu Dhabi without any further dramas and boarded our final flight. Even though we had intended to stay awake, the relief of being aboard the plane that was bringing us home was so overpowering that I slept through most of the 13-hour flight.
Not Quite the End
I had a dance performance two days after our return. A couple of nights later, though, I had strong back pain. I thought it was just my body complaining about performing without any practice and that Voltaren would fix it. It did for the night and I could go to work the next day. But the pain returned that night, more excruciatingly than before. I contacted Nurse-on-Call and was told to go to the hospital immediately as this could be a pulmonary embolism. I went reluctantly, still confident that this was a nasty muscle pull.
After various scans and tests throughout the night, however, I was told the next morning that a clot of blood was indeed lodged in my lung. The haematologist suspected that the clot had formed on the final flight, during which I barely moved any limbs.
My holy trinity for long-haul flights after this life-changing episode? Travel socks. Hydration. Mobility.
These troubles do seem more distant now than they did immediately after our return. They haven't deterred us from travelling, but we did consider staying away from Europe for a while just to avoid insanely long flights!
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