Travel is supposed to be an adventure. It used to refer to all the new and exciting things one sees and does when visiting a new place or environment. Nowadays, thanks to the inconvenience of airline travel, that can start almost the minute you step out your front door.

I am writing this column in the Newark, New Jersey airport while waiting until we can check in, again, for a flight to Europe. At least we hope so. The stormy weather that created our problems is in full effect still today.

It was a Friday when we left our house and arrived at SeaTac with plenty of time to check in. The lines to get through security were short so we got to the gate with an hour to spare. Turns out, we had even more time as the flight was delayed about one hour due to weather in New York. This allowed us to eat lunch before boarding our plane to Kennedy International Airport in New York.

Initially, we weren’t concerned because we had a one-hour layover at JFK and many times the west-east direction enables a delayed plane to make up lost time thanks to the prevailing tailwinds. Even when we didn’t board until the new, later departure, we weren’t worried because the ticket agents indicated that the connecting flight would probably be held. Having been on many planes that were delayed in takeoff to allow others to join us, this seemed reasonable.

We got on the plane, took off and had an uneventful trip except for the fairly constant buffeting from the storms we kept flying through. The landing at JFK could have qualified as an amusement park ride between the shaking, shuddering and sudden drops. The only thing that changed was the information on our next leg of the trip. Now it was that they did not know the status of the connecting flight but a ticket agent would be there at the gate to help us when we arrived.

Well, believe that and maybe there’s a bridge in Brooklyn you’d be interested in buying. At least the bulk of the passengers on the plane adhered to the request to let the two dozen of us trying to make the plane to get off first.

There was no ticket agent to be found upon arrival. Not only that, there were no services of any kind available. While travel is a 24/7 business, it seems that those at JFK who provide travel information and assistance work a normal forty hour week. The travel help desk we were eventually directed toward for our trip to Newark was closed and would not open until 2 p.m. the next day. At midnight, that did us no good.

It took more than an hour of standing in line at the airline customer service section, along with dozens of other displaced passengers, to find out that the next available flight to London was forty-eight hours later, arriving on Monday morning. The earlier one was booked. Since I had a conference to attend starting on Sunday evening, I needed to get out sooner than that.

Our only other option was to depart from Newark, fly to Paris and connect to London. We took it figuring that at least we would be on the correct side of the ocean if the next connection got messed up and there was always the Chunnel in lieu of a plane.

So, now all we had to do was find a place to sleep — along with all the other displaced passengers from all flights that were being stranded in New York. We got one, but the trip to get to the hotel was another journey unto itself. The distance one must traverse at SeaTac from baggage claim to hotel shuttle is a snap in comparison. This required a couple of blocks of walking out in the elements to get on an elevator to get to the platform to get to the airtrain to get to the station (five stops later) to wait, again, in the elements for the shuttle. This alone took almost thirty minutes. It took about another hour for the shuttle to arrive. It was more than four hours from the time we arrived in JFK at 10:30 p.m. until we got into bed.

The next day, Saturday, proved far less eventful. Still, we had to find our connection to Newark, board that bus into New York City, transfer at Grand Central Station to another bus and head to the airport. Of course, we missed the bus connection, but this time it was only a fifteen minute wait for the next one.

At Newark we found out that our bags were on the plane we couldn’t get on and so they would be waiting for us in London when we arrived. We had a couple of hours to wait before we checked in, so I took the opportunity to write the column. Little did I know that there was more of the saga to come.

As I write this, it is Monday afternoon in Oxford and we have yet to get our bags.

It seems all the flights out of JFK have been cancelled. A couple of the participants from the New York area have already missed their presentations and have given up trying to get here. So, given that, I feel very fortunate that we made the trek to Jersey so I could get here in time for the symposium.

It is a good thing we bought travelers’ insurance as it will cover some of the expenses that have ensued, but I would much rather have been out the insurance premium than without my clothes.