Flight-Booking Strategies & Wee Cops

I have managed to make my way to Vienna for a brief goodbye visit before I set off on The Big Trek at the end of the month. But only just. I feel it is important at this time to set forth a few tips on "How To Book a Flight", an endeavour NOT to be taken lightly.

Lesson 1:

Before booking your flight, write down on a bit of paper where you want to take off from and where you want to arrive at. You might, for instance, be booking at a time when your first dose of caffeine has yet to find its merry way to your cognital control centre.

Lesson 2:

When booking a flight for someone else, it is advisable to remind yourself of where the person is currently at and where you would ultimately like them to end up. This is a covert repeat of "lesson 1" for the geographically confused.

Merely following lesson 1 and 2 should bring one a great deal closer to a successful flight-booking experience and should prevent airport-mishaps such as mine last Monday.

My dad had been so kind to book me a flight over (as I am financially challenged and therefore a rather dependent 26-year old bit of offspring) and he'd mailed me the e-tickets a few days before I was due to take off. Monday morning, I check the airport departure list to make sure there are no changes or delays and I note that there is indeed an afternoon flight to Vienna, so I set off to the airport as planned. Upon arrival at the airport, I check the board and make my way to the Lufthansa check-in desk. My mind stutters for a moment at the thought that I've never flown Lufthansa to Vienna before, but then the needle picks up the thread again and I continue by presenting the check-in guy with my tickets and passport. A few minutes later, I find myself redirected to the FlySN check-in desk, which makes more sense, as that is the airline I usually fly with. I heave my bag onto the luggage belt and repeat the regular check-in procedure.

Check-in Lady: Where are we flying to today Ma'am?
Pew: Vienna please.
Check-in Lady: Ok just a moment...

A moment turns into two minutes and Check-in Lady's expression changes from ditsy happiness to confusion and then sheer worry.

Check-in Lady: Erm, Ma'am... I think you're suposed to be in Vienna.
Pew: Yes I know, that's kind of why I'm here you see.
Check-in Lady: No I mean... the flight you're booked on leaves Vienna in 90 minutes.
Pew: (ditsy as ever) Oh right, so there's a delay... that's OK, I have a book to keep busy.
Check-in Lady: No Ma'am, what I mean is you are booked on a trip from Vienna to Brussels and then back to Vienna

D'oh!!

So after a hilarious phone call to my dad, I managed to get myself transfered onto the evening-flight in the right geograpical direction and I spent the 4-hour wait pretty much like this:

On another note... I'm reading Jeremy Clarkson's "The World According To" at the moment and though it is hilarious, I have decided to take his scribblings with a pinch of salt from now on. He describes such things as German efficiency and the scariness of Austrian police and boarder-control and after what I saw today I can't help but feel he's incredibly apt at exaggeration... I mean... who on earth could be even remotely terrified by this:

Even if you were riding a lopsided tricylce and got asked to pull over, you'd probably be tempted to try and outrun the thing in a low-speed pursuit wouldn't you?!?!

And as a final note: I'd like to thank Marie for her insight and for sending me this link this morning: Impostor Syndrome. I shall refrain from commenting on the reasons for her sending me this link.