Above the clouds, freedom must be boundless…
… as German singer and songwriter Reinhard Mey so beautifully sings. However, crammed in like sardines on a 15-hour economy class flight, that sense of freedom doesn't quite seem to materialize.
The age-old tale of Daedalus and Icarus has long held me in its thrall. The yearning to ascend to the heavens, to emulate the graceful flight of birds with mighty wingbeats, strikes a deeply relatable chord within me. And I am far from alone in this sentiment.
Throughout history, the dream of flight has been an enduring companion to humanity, spanning millennia.
But in the tapestry of mythology, flight was a privilege often reserved for the Gods. It is no longer so today. Nonetheless, the modern reality of scheduled economy-class flights, while accessible to mortals, is a far cry from being a Devine experience.
The dream of flight, once emblematic of boundless liberation, now lingers uncomfortably close to the sensation of being confined within an airborne vessel made of steel. It’s more torture than delight.
Recently, after a considerable hiatus, I found myself traveling to the United States once again.
The previous day unfolded in complete relaxation until, at 7 o'clock in the evening, a disconcerting thought pierced my peace: It dawned on me that I had forgotten the ESTA application, that crucial component of the electronic system for travel authorization, without which I was not allowed to enter the States.
Panic began to take hold. In my eager anticipation, I never once considered the notion that flying into the USA wouldn't be as effortless as taking flight like a bird, only to discover a less feathered reality.
So, what to do? I turn to the ESTA application page recommended by the Austrian Foreign Ministry, only to be met with discouraging news right off the bat: "You must submit your ESTA application at least 72 hours before entering the U.S."
This was clearly not going to work out for me in time.
Nevertheless, I dive into the task of completing the electronic form, only to realize that it's anything but user-friendly: To start, the system snubs my camera, leaving me to wrestle with its refusal to properly decipher the uploaded passport scan.
As if that's not vexing enough, I find myself caught in a relentless cycle of encountering Error 451. The nature of Error 451 eludes me, but one thing is clear: it's an insurmountable hurdle standing between me and the successful submission of the form.
It all appears to be in vain.
After a few deep breaths, an idea strikes me: Surely, I can't be the first person to find themselves in this predicament. So, I turn to Google and search for "Forgot ESTA".
Lo and behold, resourceful individuals have set up a dedicated website for last-minute applications. Not only is the site much more user-friendly, but it also offers a glimmer of hope: The expedited application typically takes around an hour. Of course, there are no guarantees, they say, but after an hour and 14 minutes, the approved ESTA form miraculously lands in my inbox. Hallelujah!
After this minor pre-flight shock in the evening, I am all set for the journey.
Ridiculously early in the morning at Vienna Airport, I approach the automatic baggage scan with unwavering confidence. A friendly attendant demonstrates how straightforward the procedure is when you've already checked in from home—all you need to do is scan the boarding pass.
So, I came, I scanned – and I got rejected!
"Are you sure you've added checked luggage?" Well, according to my eTicket, I certainly have. Unfortunately, the machine can’t further assist, and I find myself in the queue for human baggage check-in, where my suitcase is effortlessly processed.
Next up, the automatic passport scan at Munich Airport decides to go on strike. Once more, I must abandon the gloriously praised, allegedly fully-automated express lane and join a lengthy queue of fellow passengers, all patiently awaiting a flesh-and-blood boarder officer to inspect their passports.
Then follows a security-induced obstacle course, turning what should have been a mere two-minute stroll to the gate into an extended half-hour ordeal: a repeat passport check, a security interview, display your boarding pass, and yet another passport examination—it appears like a never-ending loop.
Finally, upon reaching the gate, I eagerly scan my boarding pass with a glimmer of hope, only to be met with the dreaded word: rejected! Again.
Once more, it falls upon humans to rectify the machine's error.
At last, I find myself settled in the airplane headed to my destination. Squeezed in like sardines, the cabin feels as chilly as a refrigerator, and for the next 15 hours, I am confined here. My lofty and free-spirited dream of flying is crushed by reality's harsh constraints. I had envisioned it quite differently, I must admit.