nightmare bus ride to toronto

We took the Greyhound from Arcata to Toronto; from whence Lucienne and the kids flew to Port au Prince. The flight was on bonus miles, so it cost only tax. Flying to Toronto would have been prohibitive. Everything was booked, and tickets were at full price. A bonus mile flight from San Francisco was unobtainable; everything booked. Flights to Port au Prince are actually mostly full. Lots of Diaspora going home for the summer. For the heat?

So the Greyhound was OK up to Kansas city. We did have to change busses in San Francisco, Salt Lake City and Denver, but the run from Denver to Chicago was supposed to be on one bus. In Kansas City they were short a driver; we were already running a two bus train from Denver. We got a good driver out of K.C., then had a flat tire just outside of St Louis. Right next to the airport as a matter of fact. A replacement bus came in only a half hour or so and our driver took us and our transferred baggage to St Louis. That was where the nightmares started. One bus was available to go to Chicago and I was in charge of getting six bags from our bus to the next one. By the time I got Lulu and Roxie/Emile-Alex over the the Chicago bus and back to the baggage carts there were only 5 bags. Frantically looking for the sixth bag and being told that the Chicago bus was full put me in a good mood.

The station manager told us that there was no room on the Chicago bus, and that our tickets to Detroit, then Toronto, were routed wrong anyway. Where is the missing bag? He doesn't know. Probably on a bus to Chicago. This regardless of the policy that passengers are responsible for getting their own bags transferred.

After a bit of suppressed raging (we were already tired of changing busses) I accepted the managers advice that we should get on the bus to Indianapolis, then change to a bus to Detroit. Ok, we went to Indianapolis, where we learned that there is no bus to Detroit. So we got on a bus to Dayton, where we were told that the next bus to Detroit was going to be full and no backup could be ordered from there as it was a contract location, not a dispatch hub. So we continued on that bus to Columbus. Where we changed busses again. To go to Cleveland, whence we would go to Buffalo, not Detroit. Our bag, remember, was on its way to Detroit.

Columbus was pretty crazy. One baggage guy seemed to be working, so I started pushing our baggage cart over to a door. The baggage guy came running up insisting that only he was authorized to push a cart. Huh? Other stations had no objection to folks using carts. We sat on one with our luggage in Denver for quite a while. Yah, so I started pushing the cart anyway. Then a security guard shouts at me from down the way "where are you going?". I ask "what?" and he goes psycho; I'm disrespecting him, etc. Hay-sus, the crazies that get hired as security guards in this country. The manager there eventually came out, just as this wacko was threatening to have me evicted from the property, and figured out where we should go to get to Toronto. She was good. She rolled her eyes about the antics of their hired wacko. We got new tickets cut. A bus to Cleveland was loading shortly and we got on that. Another change of bus would be required in Cleveland, as would Buffalo. When we were getting on the bus to Cleveland the very important baggage guy refused to put our bags on the bus, saying that we required new tags. Tags for Buffalo. I said "oh,ok. I'll go talk to a manager again" and went back inside, where another manager came out and actually put the bags on the bus. When I got back the very important baggage guy was no where to be seen, but our bags were loaded, bound for Cleveland.

But Cleveland. That was hell in the bus universe. Columbus to Cleveland, short run. Changing to yet another new bus today. There were no baggage carts available in the station and Lucienne made sure that she was in charge of tracking the bags this time; I let one disappear in St Louis, remember. We needed to get a bunch of bags and two kids around the corner to the next bus, which was sitting waiting. I tried to talk to a baggage worker about getting help with bags, but he deliberately turned and walked away from me. Lucienne started loading stuff onto the new bus (going to Buffalo) while I went back to get stuff from the bus from which we debarked. When I returned to the Buffalo bus I found Lucienne locked inside banging on the door. A half dozen staff are standing around in front of the bus laughing, the driver (who locked her inside), nowhere to be seen.

Now this is really outrageous, and bizarre. I reach out to open the bus door and another retarded security guard threatens me, saying only the driver is allowed to open the door. So, here I am with Roxie and Emile-Alex standing by the bus looking at Lucienne locked inside, a big pile of luggage sitting around the corner, out of sight, and I have to get that baggage 200 feet over here where 6 greyhound staff (plus a retarded contract employee) can look at it while they stand laughing. Ah. Yes. This is Greyhound style customer service. So I tell Roxanne to hold on to Alex while I go haul bags. Her mother can watch her from behind the locked bus door and 6 greyhound employees can stand there laughing. The retarded security guard tells me that I am not allowed to walk to get my baggage! This lame brain tells me that MY responsibility is to hold on to my children. While the staff's friends steal our baggage, perhaps?

I tell this brilliant service oriented person that their mother, standing 8 feet away, is watching them. He says that she is locked on the bus and I'd better not leave; I tell him that is the drivers responsibility. He goggles while I walk away, then he threatens to have me arrested.

I returned with the bags and piled them up in front of the bus and we wait for some strangely tortuous driver to return and open the door. It is full, just me and two kids waiting outside, now with all our baggage, and Lucienne standing on the steps just inside the locked bus door. And various baggage crew who refuse to touch baggage and some sort of assistant manager; she is very amused by the whole scene.

Saturday, 21 July 2007, Noon
Finally the driver returns. This departure was scheduled to depart at 11:25am, Saturday, 21 July 2007. (eh? documenting for later reference) It was waiting for our bus from Columbus to arrive and it is now past noon. The hard working baggage staff now observe that our bags are tagged for Detroit while this bus is going to Buffalo. Well, this is Cleveland while the tags say they should be in Chicago now. Our tickets are for Toronto and checking through the border is not allowed. Baggage loaders don't know this, apparently.

So, they very inventively insist that our bags may not be loaded on this bus to Buffalo; they will go to Detroit. Cute little attempts at further torturing paying customers. I calmly tell them that these are my bags and I now hold a ticket to Buffalo and that the manager at Columbus put them on a bus here with those tags on them. My refusing to panic at their attempts to torment us give them a little misgiving. The assistant manager who has heretofore done nothing but joke with the idle baggage loaders and security guard finally announces that she will write 'Buffalo' on the tags so that the loaders can consent to touch our baggage.

The driver returns to this crime scene and consents for us to enter his little kingdom, but then orders me to get in and sit down while he locks the door on all of us again while our bags remain sitting on the tarmac. I object that I must see that our bags are loaded. He orders me to sit or he'll evict me from the property. I observe that Greyhound policy clearly states that passengers are responsible for getting their bags on the bus. He growls very convincingly and clenches his fists. This was a rather convincing threat of violence I thought; I sat down and stretched to look out the window to see whether these brilliant Greyhound staff would load my bags or throw them away. They did get loaded and our sociopath driver was actually a competent driver; we got to Buffalo without further incident. Our bags were unloaded in Buffalo intact.

Transferring in Buffalo was no problem. Greyhound Canada takes over here. What a relief! The driver is civil and helpful, he is Quebecois. The bridge over the river has one lane into Canada and two lanes into the USA. The one Canadian bound lane flows, the two lanes into Homeland Security are backed up for a mile or so. Canadian security and immigration are friendly, unlike the experience going the other way. Lucienne's I-551 permanent resident card and Haitian passport gets her into Canada with no problem. Lucia, who lives in Toronto and has Canadian residency, cannot get into the USA. How rude.

Crossing into Canada with Greyhound Canada is a great relief. It feels like coming home after the torment we have had heaped upon us the past day and a half.

I eventually was able to get the number of the Detroit baggage department, and then get someone to answer. I was pleasantly surprized to find that they were able to send the missing bag along to Toronto. They would not check it thru, but in this case they gave it to the driver to check it thru customs. Ah, it must have been a Canadian driver on a Canadian bus; that explains it.

So, the bag arrived in Toronto. This bag had most of the presents bound for Port au Prince. The Logitech sound system for Marcels Playstation, lots of clothes and shoes which Lucienne had bought with her own money, etc.

I took the Toronto TTC downtown the next day. A very good transit system. The bus terminal is a few blocks from one of the subway stations. Found the baggage person there, a young chinese woman who had no knowledge of the USA. This I found when I remarked on how pleasant I found Greyhound Canada compared to Greyhound USA. East of the Mississippi at least.