I Missed My Plane Again — or Why You Should Avoid Self-Transfer Flights
I will remember this trip for a long time: great airlines, disappointing airports, and dramatic situations
The flight from Bangkok to Shenzhen was excellent: everything was on time, the cabin was comfortable, and they even provided a full lunch during the flight, which lasted only three hours. The crew of North China Airlines was highly professional—I can’t complain. Yet, my joy was short-lived once we arrived at the first pit stop in China.
First and foremost, the Shenzhen airport was in disarray. For those with a transfer, it was unclear where to go as there were no signs with the inscription, “Passengers to Moscow—Go there.”
No!
No one could tell us where to go if we wanted to go to Moscow next or take a room overnight.
The truth is that our flight had a nearly 17-hour layover, and some people booked a hotel near the airport. There were adults with children among them. While some passengers, like me, simply wanted to enter the transit zone and wait like little seals on a bench.
Please pay attention to the fact that I had a self-transfer in Moscow. It will bring some unexpected surprises later…
After about 45 minutes of walking back and forth, we discovered that if we want to go to the transfer zone, we must go up where it says “Transfer to Taiwan” (despite the fact that we flew to Moscow). While those who wanted to leave the airport had to go down and apply for a transit visa.
Yet, it turned out that the airport had a daily transit visa quota of 100, which had already been reached.
As a result, all the passengers who paid for the hotel, including those with adorable little kids, were kindly forced to sit in the transit zone for 17 hours of total solitude. Of course, no one apologized to them, and I’m not even talking about money here. Yet, I felt sorry for those who were with kids.
I’m just wondering: how could people know the airport had some visa limitations there? Furthermore, how could they have predicted that the limit would be met?
Yet, I’d like to emphasize another point in particular: for the first time in my entire life, I’ve seen an airport where no one speaks English.
NO ONE!
Hey! Just wait! How did you find out all the information in the airport then?
That’s a good question, friends. The point is that all the employees used a Chinese version of Google Translate. Plus, we found a Russian girl who fluently spoke Chinese—she helped us.
To be fair, I have never spoken English in Belarusian or Russian airports, yet I’ve visited four airports in Thailand—eemployees spoke English.
Speaking of Shenzhen, I thought I was in a very poor country. This is probably the worst airport I’ve ever seen in my life. Why? First of all, there was only a charging table with four panels of outlets.
ONE!
I didn’t take pictures of all the panels because there were people, and for the sake of privacy, I wouldn't like to disturb them with my camera. Yet you might imagine the rest of the panels.
There were about 50 “nests” in total, but half of them simply didn’t work. This is despite the fact that the hall was designed for several thousand people.
At that very moment, I realized that I had overwatched YouTube.
Why?
You see, I thought that China’s popular airport would be full of high-tech. I imagined robots that clean the airport, like in Bangkok. I anticipated meeting android cyborgs who would be able to answer all of my questions.
So, let me just say that what I saw shocked and disappointed me: it was a short trip through time and space to the past.
I couldn’t believe what I saw because it would seem that China produces millions or even billions of these sockets, outlets, and all this fancy-schmancy electronic stuff. Right? So, what is the problem with updating the airport?
Half of the outlets were not working, and of those that were working, there were few. To be fair, I must say there were a lot of USB outlets in almost every row of seats, but type-C connectors and sockets were only in one corner. Although not all USB holes worked properly anyway.
Nevertheless, I wasn’t upset because I had everything loaded and I couldn’t wait to enjoy Wi-Fi.
And then — Hello Total Dictatorship.
Youtube cannot be opened, Facebook cannot be opened, Telegram cannot be opened, WhatsApp cannot be opened, Viber cannot be opened, Google Mail cannot be opened, and all Google services cannot be opened either, including the search engine.
“A-A-A-A-Ah!” I shouted in my mind.
Undeterred, I tried the ancient Yahoo search engine, only to discover that it had already gone bankrupt in 2021. ”Okay,” I stammered, attempting to open the Medium. The very website where I write articles to soothe my soul could not be opened either!
FORK!
I had recollected the solid and hard three-level Russian curse words. Then, I started to think about what I could open then, huh? Hmm, let’s see...
All of a sudden, I recalled Yandex (Russian Google) and entered the site address with fingers crossed.
One moment, two moments ... a-a-and it worked out! Phew. I breathed out.
At least here, I halted the flow of thoughts from the bad words. Thanks to Yandex, I was able to watch Russian YouTube videos. Nonetheless, my joy lasted briefly again.
When 16 hours had passed and boarding was scheduled to begin, it was discovered that the flight had been postponed for some time due to circumstances beyond our control. For around two hours!
What does it mean when the initial docking time is 3 hours and 15 minutes, but I need to register again? Do you remember when I noticed that I had a self-transfer?
I missed the flight for the second time in my life.
It should be noted that I missed the flight due to reasons beyond my control this time. Yet, it turned out that no one was responsible for this. These were my problems as a result of a mixed flight with multiple airlines. Refunds and ticket exchanges were not available in such cases as well.
I also found out that no one was to blame for the airline’s delay in this case. I was upset. I could have caught the connecting flight if there had been a separate queue in Moscow for those with connecting flights, but there wasn’t one.
To clarify, I had to completely “exit” the arrival and transfer area before registering as a separate flight, “enter” for check-in, and so on.
While standing in line, I was recalling wonderful flights with North China. The crew spoke English very well, the food was delicious, and I enjoyed an 8-bit game from the past like a kid.
Yet, let’s get back to me, standing in line.
When I saw the massive queues at passport control to exit in Moscow, I knew this was the end. I was surprised there was no queue for Belarusians and Russians within the “Union State.”
You should know that there is such a special queue when departing from Sheremetyevo and passing through passport control. Yet, when you arrive, there are no windows, only a queue for Russian citizens and others. This means that each foreigner with a visa had to go through a longer inspection and sign some paperwork.
(Just for the record: Belarusians don’t need any visa for going to Russia.)
So, when a quarter of the queue had passed in half an hour, I realized I had no chance to go through check-in procedures on time.
As you know, the initial break between connections was 3 hours and 15 minutes, but there was actually a little more than an hour left due to the delay. This hour, I was waiting in line with everyone else with dim hope in my heart.
You might think that I should have been more brazen and gone out of line to ignore the queue and go to the exit first. However, given the strictness at the airport and the political situation within, I was afraid to go to jail first due to that arrogance.
Why?
I noticed some passengers being searched separately for some reason—some of them held Ukrainian passports, some of them unknown passports. They were taken away, and I didn’t see them anymore. I didn’t want to disappear somewhere with the Russian police. However, I was not alone in my trouble.
There was a man next to me who had also missed his flight to Minsk. He kindly asked an Aeroflot employee, who was standing in line alone with a colleague at the time, to let him pass. The harsh reality poured harshly from her mouth, like boiling tar on his skin—she refused him.
She refused him, referring to the fact that soon her entire crew would come and say this line was for the crew (the cabin did not have such an inscription). In other words, no one cared about the latecomers.
Morale and conclusion: never purchase mixed flights with a self-transfer.
Physical pain from numb body parts, as well as some employees’ rude communication in the Moscow airport, aggravated my psychological state.
Rude communication?
Yeah … after completing all formal procedures, I asked an airport employee at an information desk if there were any transfers, buses, trains, or minibuses from the airport to Belarus.
“This is the airport,” she said with arrogance and a sour expression.
I wanted to say, “Do you think I’m a moron for not knowing this is an airport? I’ve asked you another question!” Yet, I kept calm.
Bangkok Airport, for example, offers shuttle services to Pattaya, Hua Hin, and a number of other cities. That is, the question is quite appropriate, given the union state between Belarus and Russia, open borders, and so on. My question was not stupid.
Furthermore, it was the woman’s responsibility to answer questions—I asked an employee in information support.
She supported me. Thanks!
After that, I went to the ticket office to buy a ticket. “How much is the nearest ticket to Minsk?”
“14,750 Russian rubles,” she answered gently.
I sobbed as I clutched two Franklin banknotes inside my pocket. The cost was nearly twice as much as the original 8,000 rubles from Moscow to Minsk. Given the extortionate exchange rate of 80 rubles instead of the market exchange rate of 92 rubles for one dollar, we can say that my ticket to Minsk cost $200.
I realized that two American bills would soon fly away like birds of prey, never looking back. However, the two grandfathers needed to be changed. For that, I went to change the green portraits of the American president on the first floor. Allegedly, a stewardess girl politely suggested the location to me.
So, I came to the first floor in anticipation of exchanging two hundred dollars—closed—for technical reasons. Aha-ha-ha! I chuckled hysterically but quietly. “Did you conspire?” I thought.
Then I went up to the second floor on the advice of another employee. There was also an exchanger there, but it was closed—drum rolls—for technical reasons! This time, it was not funny.
The truth is that I didn’t have enough money on my Thai bank card to pay, so I had to somehow convert cash dollars into cash rubles. I had already planned to go to the city and look for street money changers, but I noticed that the girl in the exchanger’s window was sitting and doing something, so I decided to wait…
Soon, Buddha had heard my prayers! After about 5–8 minutes, the exchanger opened.
Phew, I changed the money and dashed to the ticket office like Darkwing, where the tickets were 1000 Russian rubles more expensive than if I had purchased them online. Yet, I was unable to purchase a ticket online.
Why?
Because there was another surprise waiting for me at the airport: access to Wi-Fi is granted only to phone numbers that receive an SMS with a confirmation code to activate Wi-Fi.
If you don’t have a phone number, you won’t have Wi-Fi. For example, in China, you only need to enter your ticket and flight information.
“Okay,” I thought. “Why go online when there are cash registers? Besides, it is only a thousand rubles more expensive.” I went to buy a ticket using cash.
“Alex, hello again!” My fate was teasing me.
I was refused to buy a ticket to Minsk because I did not have a phone number!
Oh, no. Oh, no … oh no, no, no, no, no.
“Should I sell my soul to the devil or what?” I thought with an ironic smile.
I stated that I do not have a physical SIM card because I don’t have my Thai SIM card anymore; meanwhile, I haven’t gotten a Belarusian number yet. The cashier responded that nobody would sell tickets in such a case. It turns out that my passport alone was insufficient to purchase a ticket!
In Sheremetyevo, if there is no phone number — there is no life.
I knew the girl was not to blame for anything, so I tried to maintain the highest level of self-control. I tried to remain calm as a boa constrictor in the face of mixed feelings and emotions woven from adrenaline, anger, resentment, disappointment, and overwhelming fatigue. I needed to look for a solution.
“What shall I do?” I thought. “Is it really necessary to travel to Moscow’s city center and train station?” I was confused.
Suddenly, wit knocked on my head, triggering an epiphany—I dictated my mother’s phone number—the only Belarusian number I knew by heart.
That is what I said, “I only know my mother’s phone number.” I swallowed a lump in my throat from excitement. “She lives in Belarus.”
The employee looked at me and paused, then sighed and looked again at my desperate face, full of pain. “Okay,” she sighed again, “dictate the number and prepare the money.” She began issuing a ticket.
I can’t say I was overjoyed, but my anxiety was relieved.
With a paper ticket in hand, I went straight through the control to avoid any new surprises or the possibility of falling asleep because I didn’t sleep for two nights. Furthermore, all procedures may be completed up to 8 hours prior to departure. So, I went through the procedures right after buying the ticket.
To be honest, the mood was extremely negative.
My back muscles ached, my consciousness was dulled due to a lack of sleep, I had light hallucinations, and there were ripples in my eyes. At the same time, I discovered the strength to maintain my composure and poker face.
I realized that my retaliatory rudeness or claims, even if justified, would only exacerbate the situation. As a result, when I entered the customs control area, I timidly smiled as if nothing had happened and said, “Hello,” in a barely audible whisper.
An elderly female employee responded with a lively “Hello.” Her smile seemed to instill hope in me, and I calmed down overnight.
For some reason, my heart instantly felt better, as if I had seen a living person with a big heart. Surprisingly, customs and passport control were handled professionally and quickly, and I can only praise the staff.
The procedure was designed like a Swiss watch: everything was clear, specific, and understandable. The airport staff were courteous, responsive, and even smiled, making it feel like I was in a different place.
After my next wait for the next 8 hours and about 2 hours of flight, I arrived in Minsk, where I was greeted warmly. Then the train station, and finally Gomel!
Yet this is a totally different story…
Thank you for following me! I will keep writing about the new life in Belarus. Here are some articles of mine you might like:
