William Marell books an apartment in Beverly Hills through Airbnb and quickly discovers the address doesn’t exist. Then Airbnb hits his card with another $7,080, cancels his account, and leaves him chasing case numbers and closed tickets.

Question

I booked an apartment through Airbnb in Beverly Hills, making an initial payment of $1,236. There was just one problem: The address listed for the property didn’t exist. Soon after, without my consent, Airbnb charged my card another $7,080.

Airbnb then canceled my reservation and closed my account, even though I never requested either action. When I called Airbnb, it told me it couldn’t verify my account. Every time I spoke with a representative, I was given a new case number and told the issue would be resolved in a few business days. Instead, the cases were closed without resolution.

I disputed the charges with Barclays, my credit card company. It reversed the $7,080 charge but refused to return the $1,236, saying I had voluntarily provided my card number to Airbnb, so it wasn’t fraud.

I’d prefer not to take this to court. Can you help me get my $1,236 back? — William Marell, West Palm Beach, Fla.

Answer

This one is a tangle of Airbnb’s weakest points: fake listings, arbitrary account closures and a customer service system that can leave guests stranded.

Let’s start with the listing. Airbnb requires hosts to provide accurate information and handles payments through its platform, acting as the host’s limited collection agent. In theory, once you’ve paid, your only responsibility is to show up. When a host misrepresents or cancels, Airbnb is supposed to step in with an immediate refund.

In your case, the property never existed. That alone should have triggered a full refund. But there was a second failure: Airbnb charged then added what appeared to be a random $7,080 charge for a rental that didn’t exist.

For reasons that aren’t entirely clear, Airbnb then flagged your account. You fell into a trap many travelers know too well: Airbnb assigns case numbers, then closes them automatically after a set time. If your account is later deactivated, Airbnb’s customer service often refuses to discuss the case because the account is closed. 

You did the right thing by documenting everything and filing a credit card dispute. The problem is that Barclays saw your $1,236 as a voluntary transaction, which technically it was, even though you never got what you paid for. That’s a tough — but not unusual — response from a bank. Barclay’s could have done a better job of investigating your initial complaint.

How to fix a problem with a nonexistent Airbnb rental

I think a brief, polite email to one of the Airbnb executive contacts I list on my consumer advocacy site Elliott.org might have helped move things along.

Behind the scenes, Airbnb was willing to refund you if you withdrew your chargeback. That’s common practice. Companies don’t like issuing refunds while a dispute is pending. But it looks like you never received that message, and with your account shut down, there was no way for you to follow up with Airbnb.

The lesson for other travelers? Check vacation rental listings carefully before booking. Verify the address independently, and if something feels off, walk away. Keep detailed records of your communication, and don’t give up if the company tries to arbitrarily close your case. Persistence, backed by documentation, is often what gets a result.

After I contacted Airbnb, it reinstated your account and processed the refund. You’ve now confirmed the $1,236 has been returned.

When Mike Welden returned his Budget rental car after his Palm Springs vacation, he thought he was done with the car. The retired social worker had enjoyed a pleasant two-week trip through California without incident.

But Budget wasn’t done with him. Three weeks later, Welden’s credit card got dinged with a $450 cleaning fee. The company claimed their vehicle reeked of cigarette smoke.

There was just one problem: Neither Welden nor his husband had ever smoked. Not once. Not ever.

This case raises several important questions about rental car cleaning fees:

• How can you prove a car doesn’t smell like smoke?
• What documentation do rental companies need to justify cleaning charges?  
• When should you dispute a cleaning fee with your credit card company?

First, let’s review a few details about this case.

“Nobody smoked in the car while we had possession of it”

Welden’s trouble started with Budget’s “evidence” — photos that supposedly documented the smoking violation. But the images told a different story. In one photo, someone had scrawled “sweet smell” on the car window.

Sweet smell? Since when does cigarette smoke smell sweet?

“Neither my husband nor I have ever smoked in our lives,” Welden told me. “Nobody smoked in the car while we had possession of it.”

A Budget customer service representative wasn’t buying it. In a form letter response, he explained that “cleaning charges are assessed when a vehicle is returned in such a condition that makes it not rentable” and insisted the company had provided ample documentation of the vehicle’s condition upon return.

But what kind of documentation proves an odor existed? 

A photo with “sweet smell” written on glass hardly constitutes scientific evidence of tobacco use. It’s about as reasonable as a customer claiming their meal was cold because they wrote brrr on the receipt.

Welden tried reasoning with Budget, requesting detailed evidence to support the charge. The company’s response was swift and final: Pay up!

That’s when Welden contacted our team.

How can you prove a car doesn’t smell like smoke?

Here’s the rub with odor-based cleaning fees: They’re nearly impossible to verify after the fact. 

Unlike visible damage such as stains, burns, or scratches, smells are subjective and temporary. What one person considers overwhelming smoke odor, another might dismiss as lingering cologne or a whiff of someone’s fast food lunch.

Budget’s own policy states that if it detects a smoky odor in a vehicle, “renters will be assessed a fee.” It will also take a photo “if possible.” 

Notice that crucial caveat: “if possible.” Photos can show cigarette butts, ash, or burn marks — physical evidence of smoking. But they can’t capture a scent.

That’s where cleaning fee disputes get tricky. How do you prove the absence of something that may never have existed?

Savvy renters document their vehicle’s condition before and after use. They take photos of the interior from multiple angles when they pick up the car. You can also record a brief video walkthrough, mentioning any pre-existing odors. (But if you smell anything “funny”, you probably should. ask for a different car.)

When returning the vehicle, they repeat the process. They get the return agent to initial their rental agreement confirming the car’s acceptable condition. If there are any concerns, they address them immediately rather than discovering a surprise charge weeks later.

But Welden’s case exposes a darker possibility: What if the cleaning fee has nothing to do with the car’s actual condition? What if it’s simply a revenue stream disguised as customer accountability?

The rental industry has embraced what I call “gotcha fees” — charges that appear legitimate but often target customers who probably won’t fight back. Tourists, international visitors, or busy professionals rarely have time to fight a $450 charge, especially when the company claims to have documentation.

What documentation do rental companies need to justify cleaning charges?

The short answer? Less than you’d think.

Budget’s FAQ explains that if staff finds “evidence that the car has been smoked in and/or it smells of smoke,” customers might be assessed a cleaning fee of up to $450. Notice the wiggle room in that language. Phrases like “might be assessed,” and “evidence of smoking and/or smell” leave much room for discretion.

In Welden’s case, Budget provided photos showing nothing. 

No cigarette butts. No ash. No burn marks. Just someone’s handwritten assessment of a “sweet smell” that doesn’t even match tobacco’s acrid odor profile.

This documentation failure isn’t uncommon. We’ve had numerous similar cases, including one reader who visited Niagara Falls and returned home to a $450 bill from Budget. And one renter had a $450 cleaning bill for dog hair. He doesn’t have a dog.

The pattern suggests a systematic problem. Companies assess fees first, then scramble to justify them when challenged. It’s guilty until proven innocent — with the burden of proof falling on customers who may not have been present during the inspection.

Legitimate cleaning fees require more than subjective assessments. The most effective documentation would include:

• Multiple clear photos showing specific damage or contamination.
• Written assessments from qualified inspectors.
• Timestamped evidence collected immediately upon return.
• Detailed estimates for actual cleaning costs.

Budget’s “sweet smell” note fails every test. It’s not objective, specific, or credible. Yet the company initially stood behind this flimsy evidence, hoping Welden would simply pay rather than fight.

When should you dispute a cleaning fee with your credit card company?

Credit card disputes aren’t just for obvious fraud. They’re designed to protect consumers from unfair charges — exactly what Welden faced.

The Fair Credit Billing Act gives you 60 days to dispute charges you believe are incorrect. For cleaning fees, he’ll want to gather evidence that the charge was inappropriate:

• His rental agreement and return documentation showing the vehicle was accepted in good condition. 

• Photos he took of the car’s interior before and after his rental. 

• Any correspondence with the rental company, especially weak “evidence” like Budget’s sweet smell notation.

Budget had a questionable case against Welden. Its documentation consists of a notation of a sweet smell. That would have been a slam-dunk for a credit-card dispute.

But it turns out a dispute would be unnecessary.

Is there a way of documenting a bad smell in a rental car beyond just writing the words?

After reviewing his case, I had one question for my contact at Avis Budget Group: “Is there a way of documenting a bad smell in a rental car beyond just writing the words?”

Apparently not.

My inquiry prompted a quick investigation that revealed what Welden suspected all along: The smoking charge was bogus.

Within 24 hours of my email, Budget reversed the fee completely. No negotiation. No compromise. Just a full refund that appeared on Welden’s credit card the next morning.

“Thanks so much for your assistance,” Welden wrote. “The refund showed up on my credit card this morning.”

That swift reversal tells you everything about Budget’s confidence in its “evidence.” Companies don’t immediately cave on legitimate charges. They fight tooth and nail to justify fees they can actually prove.

Budget’s quick capitulation raises uncomfortable questions about cleaning fee practices across the rental industry. How many customers receive similar bogus charges? How many simply pay without questioning the company’s “evidence”?

Car rental smoking fees are on the rise, with charges reaching as high as $450 per incident. Some of these fees undoubtedly target genuine smoking violations. But others, like Welden’s case, appear to be phantom charges designed to extract revenue from unsuspecting customers.

The “sweet smell” notation is particularly telling. Either Budget’s staff doesn’t know what cigarette smoke smells like, or they’re deliberately mischaracterizing odors to justify fees. Neither scenario inspires confidence in the company’s fee assessment process.

Budget expected Welden to quietly pay its bogus fee. It didn’t expect him to fight back — or to have help doing it.

The lesson? Never assume a cleaning fee is legitimate just because a company claims to have documentation. Demand to see their evidence. Question subjective assessments. And don’t be afraid to escalate when customer service fails.

In Welden’s case, persistence paid off to the tune of $450. The phantom smoke smell disappeared as quickly as it had materialized — along with Budget’s bogus fee.

When Eileen Landauer’s hotel in Jasper, Canada, was evacuated because of a wildfire last summer, she faced more than a battle with her online travel agency for a refund.

Landauer, an accountant from Palo Alto, Calif., also had to endure several “no-reply” emails from Booking.com — a polite way of saying, “Don’t bother writing back.”

There was an email acknowledging her complaint, to which she couldn’t reply. And another one asking her what she thought of the service she received (not much, it turns out). But this email, too, was a “no-reply.”

“The process is opaque, time-consuming and difficult,” she says. “I’ve reached a point of exhaustion.”

“No reply” emails are on the rise

Experts say travel companies have been putting roadblocks in front of their customers lately. They include “no-reply” emails, unhelpful chatbots, and seemingly endless phone trees. But among the most alarming are the “no-reply” messages.

“Instead of improving efficiency, these impersonal messages create frustration,” says Mario Matulich, president of CMP, a customer service consultancy. “They force customers to navigate numerous chatbots, play phone tag, or even resort to posting on social media just to be heard.”

Booking.com did not respond to multiple requests for a comment about its “no-reply” emails. Landauer’s case is another matter. I’ll tell you what happened with that in a moment.

Her problem exposes a growing challenge among travelers: Why are we getting these announcements that we can’t respond to? If you get a “no-reply” email, how do you get through to a real person? And what do all of these messages say about customer service, anyway?

Why are more travel companies sending “no-reply” emails to their customers? 

For companies, the “no-reply” email is about efficiency, says Matulich, “or at least the illusion of it.” 

“Businesses implement these automated responses to reduce inbound volume, streamline workflows, and push customers toward self-service options,” he says.

The problem is, “no-reply” emails don’t always work, especially for travelers. Often, customers need an immediate answer because of an upcoming flight or stay, and not being able to respond to a message is frustrating.

“No-reply emails send a terrible message,” says Liviu Tanase, CEO of ZeroBounce, an email validation platform for businesses. “‘We want you to shop with us, but we don’t want to hear from you. At a time when customer experience is everything, making it harder for people to reach you is bad business.”

It’s also bad customer service. Tanase says “no-reply” emails can trigger spam filters and miss the inbox. Since consumers tend to mark these emails as spam, other no-reply emails may automatically be directed to the spam folder–including essential communication like booking confirmations.

How do you get around a ‘no-reply’ email?

Fortunately, there are easy ways around a no-reply message from an airline, car rental company or hotel.

First, you have to understand that the “no-reply” email may not bounce back. Some businesses create a “no-reply” email address to discourage people from responding, but they do, in fact, monitor the replies. So you might start by doing something counterintuitive and replying to the no-reply email.

But there are other ways to get around these silly emails:

Switch channels. “Dig through the website for a live chat, a phone number, or an email that takes replies,” says Harry Folloder, the chief digital and technology officer for Alorica, a customer service technology company. Often, companies will provide those in the same thread or in your confirmation.

Go social. “If you absolutely can’t find a direct line of connection, take to social media,” recommends Rob Gold, vice president of Marketing Communications, a cloud communications platform. “Then DM them or comment publicly. The latter tends to get a quicker response because you’re having that conversation in front of potentially thousands of people.” Remember to keep your communication polite and to the point.

Appeal to a higher level. Emily Dreilich, a frequent traveler and travel advisor, says if she’s getting nowhere with the conventional channels, she takes her requests straight to the top by finding executive contact emails. “I use customer advocacy sites like Elliott Advocacy,” she told me. Aw, thanks. My team and I spend a lot of time finding the right company contact, and reaching out to an executive often helps resolve a problem quickly.

Point is, just because an airline or hotel says it doesn’t want to hear from you doesn’t mean you have to stay quiet.

What “no-reply” means to this consumer advocate

Whenever I get a “no-reply” email from a company, I see both sides. Usually, the email is an FYI — a confirmation or quick notification. It’s not an invitation to start a dialogue, and often, there are other ways to contact the company, like a web-based chat. At the same time, a “no-reply” email feels like a lecture, an invitation to shut up and listen: “Here’s a message — we don’t care what you think.”

So when I see “no-reply” messages like the ones Landauer received, I understand why the company is sending them, but at the risk of repeating myself, it’s bad customer service.

For Landauer, the woman trying to get a refund after her hotel was evacuated, the “no-reply” emails proved to be prescient. Even though she eventually got through to a real person at Booking.com, no one could find her money. I asked the companies to check again, and this time, Booking.com returned the money.

There’s a new milestone in American air travel: checking your suitcase may now cost more than your seat.

Earlier this month, United Airlines raised its fees for the first checked bag at the airport to an eye-popping $50. American Airlines, Delta Air Lines and Southwest Airlines followed last week, upping their luggage fees by $10. The airlines blamed higher expenses related to the war for the increases.

That’s nonsense. Oil prices are nowhere near where they were when airlines invented these irritating fees. When they slapped a $15 surcharge on checked luggage 18 years ago, crude oil was trading around $120 a barrel and climbing. Today, even though fuel prices are lower, airlines charge $50 for the same service.

I’ve spent years documenting what happens to travelers when the rules bend in favor of the airline industry. Here’s what I’ve learned: Bag fees never go down. Elliott’s Rule of Luggage says fees rise when oil goes up, and they rise when oil goes down. They rise when courts rule against regulators and they rise when Congress does nothing. 

The only direction is up.

How we got here

This started with American Airlines back in 2008, when it imposed a $15 fee on checked bags, claiming higher fuel costs forced its hand. 

That was a half-truth, at best. Airlines hedge their fuel, a practice where they use financial contracts like oil futures to lock in a specific price for jet fuel in the future, serving as an insurance policy against price volatility. So it would have been more accurate to say that fuel costs would be higher at some point. 

Still, sensing a revenue opportunity, every other legacy airline followed American’s lead. And just like that, something that used to be included in the price of a ticket became a separate transaction. 

Oh, and a profitable one. Baggage fees brought in an extra $7 billion in revenue in 2024, the last year for which numbers are available. 

For years, Southwest Airlines resisted this trend. Its “Bags Fly Free” policy was a genuine differentiator — and a genuine rebuke to its competitors. 

Then, in 2025, under pressure from Elliott Investment Management (no relation), it ended the policy for base fares, and the last holdout folded.

While no one was looking, JetBlue pioneered something even more creative: surge pricing for luggage. Its fees fluctuate based on demand — higher during summers and holidays, when you’re least able to avoid flying. 

There’s so much innovation going on!

The court ruling that changed everything

In April 2024, the Biden administration’s Department of Transportation issued a rule requiring airlines to disclose all fees — baggage, change, cancellation — upfront, before purchase. It  helped passengers figure out the true cost of flying before they clicked the “book” button. That made sense to passengers, but not to airlines, who saw their revenue stream threatened.

In February, the Fifth Circuit Court of Appeals vacated the rule in Airlines for America v. DOT, finding that the agency had overstepped its authority. The court said it couldn’t mandate blanket fee disclosures.

Within weeks, United raised its bag fee by $10. 

Here’s the part that should make every traveler furious: The DOT rule didn’t ban fees. It didn’t even cap them. It just said: Tell people what they’re paying before they buy. Apparently, that’s too much to ask.

A bill that could fix this

There’s a legislative solution. Sen. Edward Markey and Rep. Steve Cohen have co-sponsored the FAIR Fees Act — the Forbidding Airlines from Imposing Ridiculous Fees Act — which would require that ancillary fees be “reasonable and proportional” to the actual cost of providing the service.

It’s a sensible bill. It’s also been introduced before but was never cleared for takeoff. The airline lobby is well-funded, and Congress has no appetite for airline consumer protection.

But here’s the data-driven case for why the FAIR Fees Act matters: If bag fees were actually tied to operating costs, luggage fees would not be rising now. These surcharges have become almost entirely untethered from the cost of moving your bag. 

There’s no law that says a baggage fee can’t be $75, or $100, or whatever the market will bear the day you forget to pack light. There’s no law that says checking your suitcase can’t cost more than your airline ticket.

What you can do right now

So how do we end this madness? 

First, with midterm elections on the horizon, this is a great time to let your elected representative know that the FAIR Fees Act is a good idea. In an election year, they just might listen to you. 

Also, stop assuming bag fees are fixed — JetBlue’s dynamic pricing means it pays to book early and check the fee at the time of purchase. Third, pack light or carry one of those credit cards that offers a “free” first checked bag, although I strongly prefer the former option. Those co-branded cards often come with hefty annual fees and can also be habit-forming, creating an unhealthy addiction to an airline’s loyalty program. 

But don’t get comfortable. Elliott’s Rule says the only direction for checked bag fees is up.

U.S. airlines this week raised their checked baggage fees to levels that would have seemed like a parody just a few years ago. 

The industry’s latest excuse for these hikes is the rising cost of jet fuel following the outbreak of war in the Middle East. 

American, Delta, United, and JetBlue have all pushed their first-bag fees to the $50 mark. Even Southwest, the long-time holdout that built its entire brand on “bags fly free,” has jumped on the bandwagon, now charging $45 for your first piece of luggage.

We’re witnessing the systematic repricing of the air travel experience that treats your suitcase like a high-end luxury item.

The rising cost of checking in

The justification from the C-suite is always the same: “evolving global conditions” and “industry dynamics.” Delta CEO Ed Bastian recently noted that fuel spikes added $400 million to operating expenses since late February. 

The truth is more complicated. A 50-pound checked bag occupies space that could be sold as commercial cargo for as much as $120. By charging you $50, airlines claim they’re doing you a favor, even though the actual operational cost to move that suitcase—fuel, labor, and sorting—is less than half that.

Also, the major carriers aren’t just transportation companies anymore; they’re giant, flying credit card issuers. By jacking up the price of a checked bag, they’re creating a problem that only their co-branded credit cards can solve. 

It’s the ol’ “create the itch, sell the scratch” trick. If you have the card, the $100 round-trip bag fee vanishes—making the $95 annual fee look like a bargain.

And boy, does it work for the bottom line.

• Delta Air Lines recently reported that its partnership with American Express generated a staggering $8.2 billion in revenue for 2025 alone—an 11 percent jump from the previous year. To put that in perspective, that’s more than many airlines make from selling actual tickets.
• American Airlines isn’t far behind. Its cash remuneration from co-branded credit cards and other partners hit $6.1 billion in 2024.

When an airline can make $8 billion from a credit card company, the bag fee is less of a cost-recovery mechanism than a nudge to get you to sign up for more high-interest debt. They don’t want your $50 at the check-in counter. They want your loyalty, your data, and your swipe fees for the next decade.

How to avoid the fees without falling into the trap

You don’t have to give the airline what it wants. There are ways to beat the $50 bag fee that don’t involve signing up for a 24 percent APR credit card.

• Ship it ahead. For heavy items or long trips, door-to-door luggage shipping services can actually be 30 to 50 percent cheaper than some airline fees, especially if your luggage is on the heavy side.
• The gate-check gamble. If your flight is full, the gate agents will often beg people to check their carry-on bags for free to save overhead bin space. It’s a risk, but it’s a proven way to get a 50-pound bag to your destination for $0.
• Status match. If you have elite status with a hotel chain like Marriott, check if they have a partnership with your airline. United, for example, has long offered status matches that grant “free” bags to hotel elites.
• Prepay—or pay the price. If you must check a bag, do it when you book the ticket. Many carriers now charge $5 to $10 more if you wait until you get to the airport kiosk.

Are airlines overcharging for checked luggage?

That brings us to this week’s question.

• If you said yes, is there a specific price point where you’ll stop checking bags altogether?
• If you said no, is there a price where you think they would be overcharging? Or should they charge whatever the market will bear? 

My take: The airlines are using a genuine geopolitical crisis as cover for a massive cash grab—and to prod customers into using their toxic financial instruments. I’ve seen this movie before: fuel prices go up, “temporary” fees are introduced, fuel prices drop, and the fees stay exactly where they are. I’ll have more on this in Sunday’s commentary.

Your turn

What’s your limit? Are you ready to become a carry-on only traveler, or have the airlines finally found a way to make that impossible, too? Join the discussion and let me know how these new fees are changing your travel plans.

If you’re a guest at the Villa Orange in Frankfurt, Germany, you may have one question at breakfast: “Where’s the Nutella?”

The answer tells you a lot about this intimate, book-filled boutique hotel: It is certified 100 percent organic. And that means no palm oil–laden chocolate and hazelnut spread, no down-filled duvets, and no compromises on sustainable sourcing. 

Since becoming fully organic in 2009, Villa Orange has held its ground amid higher costs and an occasional guest complaint. It’s an important outlier in a city that is trying to burnish its green tourism credentials. 

A mobile Green Living Room, a plant-covered structure outfitted with seating that offers a refreshing oasis in warm urban environments. (Photo by Aren Elliott.)

How is Frankfurt becoming a green tourist destination?

Like most German cities, Frankfurt wants to be known as a green destination. Here are the highlights of its sustainability resume:

• Nearly one-third of the city’s area is protected green space, including the sprawling Stadtwald forest and a green belt of meadows, wetlands, and riverside paths that are meant to improve air quality and offer relief from urban heat.
  
• There’s a $24 million municipal funding program to support climate-friendly projects, such as green roofs, solar panels, and water retention systems.
  
• Messe Frankfurt, Europe’s largest trade fair venue, switched to 100 percent renewable electricity in 2020, cutting nearly 19,000 tons of carbon dioxide emissions annually.

Frankfurt is also transitioning away from cars to more environmentally friendly ways of getting around. In addition to mass transit, there are  bike superhighways and expanded cycling lanes that encourage eco-friendly mobility. Velotaxis and bike rentals make car-free travel easier.

A velotaxi in Frankfurt’s New Old Town — proof that the city believes in green energy. (Photo by Aren Elliott)

A velotaxi tour of Frankfurt

One of the best ways to see the progress is by taking a Velotaxi tour of Germany’s financial capital.

There, you’ll see leafy parks, solar-paneled rooftops, and ecologically-friendly skyscrapers with open winter gardens, which drastically reduce energy costs.

One of the centerpieces of Frankfurt’s sustainability efforts is an initiative known as the Mobile Green Living Room. It’s a plant-covered structure on wheels outfitted with seating that offers a refreshing oasis in warm urban environments. 

The living room is designed as a freestanding 3-D living wall overgrown with plants. Its purpose: to deliver a breath of fresh air, connect citizens to green infrastructure, and create comfortable social spaces. The Mobile Green Living Room is a semi-autonomous unit equipped with an irrigation system that contains enough water for a week. Some models are even self-sufficient, using a solar system to supply electricity for their water pump.

As summers in Europe get hotter, these green living rooms are being presented as one cooling solution. Frankfurt, identified as the hottest city in Germany, actively deploys these structures in summer to provide shaded areas for relaxation. But they also show residents that urban gardens can create their own microclimates and cool things down during the peak of summer.

Frankfurt’s New Old Town is the ultimate recycling project

You can’t talk about sustainability without discussing Frankfurt’s New Old Town. This quarter in Frankfurt’s inner city, once one of Central Europe’s best-preserved medieval old towns, was almost entirely destroyed during World War II. The brutalist Technisches Rathaus (Technical City Hall), which the public widely disliked, was constructed on this site in the 1970s.

The Dom-Römer Project, largely driven by civic engagement, began with the demolition of the Technisches Rathaus in 2010. The project’s goal was to restore the old city center, recreating the pre-war architectural style, bringing back its history, and replacing the unpopular brutalist edifice.

Today, you can see the recently restored buildings, including the Haus zur Goldenen Waage, which was the most complex individual reconstruction project and features an open-sided gallery. Other notable historical reconstructions include the Neues Rotes Haus, the Haus zum Esslinger, and the Goldenes Lämmchen, with their steeply pitched gable roofs and ornate facades.

These impressive buildings were thought to be lost forever. But their return is proof that Frankfurt believes in recycling. 

During a tour of the New Old Town, our guide praised the city’s quiet commitment to sustainability but cautioned, “It’s easier to build green infrastructure than to change habits.” The city’s policies are bold, but they don’t always translate to everyday business choices.

Setting a green standard at Frankfurt’s only  “bio” hotel 

While Frankfurt’s government, cultural institutions, and event venues steadily push green initiatives, the hospitality industry still lags. Villa Orange owner Christiana Hütte says it’s an ongoing challenge. 

A market researcher turned hotelier, she transformed a former retirement home into Germany’s first fully certified organic hotel. The process was not easy: She had to replace every supplier unwilling to switch to organic products, a costly and complex overhaul.

Villa Orange is a no-nonsense kind of hotel. The accommodations are roomy and comfortable and a little minimalist. Service is fast and efficient, but without the flair or pretension of some of the luxury chain hotels.  

But the Villa Orange is a hotel with purpose. As the only certified organic hotel in Frankfurt, it has a reputation to uphold. 

Hütte says that while many hotel and restaurant operators view organic certification as “difficult, complicated, and expensive,” with a little effort, almost any hotel can become a “bio” hotel. All it takes is determination. 

But economic headwinds have only intensified skepticism, with businesses reluctant to invest in costly sustainable products when customers dine out less and budgets shrink. Even guests sometimes resist sustainable choices, preferring the familiar comfort of down duvets over cruelty-free, plant-based alternatives or lamenting the absence of Nutella at breakfast.

For hotel owners like Hütte, it is worth the effort because she is doing her part to make Frankfurt more sustainable. 

In Frankfurt, a struggle to stay sustainable 

Frankfurt’s situation illustrates a common tension in green urbanism: ambitious, top-down policies and funding often struggle to penetrate everyday business operations and consumer habits. 

The city can plant trees, install solar panels, and build bike lanes with relative ease. But turning those initiatives into actual widespread cultural change requires buy-in from local entrepreneurs and visitors.

Ultimately, the green future of Frankfurt will depend as much on consumer choices as on municipal programs. The sustainability of a trip starts not just with how many trees the city plants, but with where visitors choose to stay, how they get around, and what they consume while there.

In Frankfurt, as anywhere, true sustainability is a shared responsibility — between governments, businesses, and the travelers who will shape the city’s future.

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When Paul Avron’s daughter buys Coldplay tickets from StubHub, she expects a memorable night out. But as the concert approaches, the tickets still haven’t arrived, and StubHub’s FanProtect guarantee doesn’t work. Can she get her money back?

Question

I’m hoping you can help me. My daughter purchased three tickets for a Coldplay show in Miami through StubHub months in advance for $1,027. On the day of the concert, the app showed the tickets were “being released.” But as showtime approached, nothing arrived. StubHub refunded the tickets.

My daughter called StubHub repeatedly, asking for replacement tickets. The last rep she spoke to refused, saying we’d have to purchase new tickets. He said there were tickets available for just $1 more than what we paid and sent a link. We clicked it and bought them with my Chase Bonvoy card, only to find out that they were $1,000 each — more than $3,300 in total. I disputed the purchase with my credit card and we did not see the show.

StubHub has refused to issue a refund. But if StubHub had provided the tickets my daughter purchased or offered real replacements, I wouldn’t be in this mess. Can you help me get my $3,300 back? — Paul Avron, Parkland, Fla.

Answer

StubHub’s FanProtect guarantee is supposed to give customers peace of mind when buying tickets on its resale platform. The company promises “valid tickets or your money back.” But as your experience shows, that promise can fall apart when tickets don’t show up and there’s confusion over pricing.

You did almost everything right. You contacted StubHub multiple times, escalated to executives in writing, and even involved your credit card company. Still, the company resisted refunding you, despite the fact that you never used the tickets and were clearly overcharged. 

I say “almost” because you purchased the nonrefundable replacement tickets quickly, and apparently without checking the full amount. Always, always double-check the total before pushing that “buy” button. Otherwise you could end up with three overpriced and unwanted concert tickets.

You have some consumer protections that might have applied to your situation. Under the Fair Credit Billing Act, you have the right to dispute unauthorized or incorrect charges with your credit card company. In cases like yours — where the charge was far higher than you expected — your card issuer is required to investigate and, if the dispute is valid, issue a chargeback. But StubHub did disclose the final amount, which is probably why your credit card company won’t help. 

StubHub also operates under Florida’s ticket resale laws, which require clear disclosure of ticket costs and prohibit deceptive practices. Together, these protections give consumers powerful leverage when companies refuse refunds for undelivered or misrepresented tickets, especially when the company’s own policy isn’t working.

Sometimes, a brief, polite email to one of StubHub’s executives (I list their names on Elliott.org, my advocacy site) can help. Unfortunately, in your case, it did not. 

Your case is a reminder to double-check ticket prices before completing a purchase — especially in high-pressure moments like just before an event. It also shows the limits of “guarantees” from ticket resellers, which can fall short when inventory issues arise. In situations like this, documenting every interaction and escalating early is essential. And if that fails, a consumer advocacy group like ours can help hold companies accountable.

I reached out to StubHub on your behalf, forwarding your timeline, receipts, and correspondence. The company reviewed your case and agreed to reverse the charges. 

“We’re truly sorry this customer missed an event that was so meaningful to them,” a representative told me. “When their original tickets were not delivered, we issued a full refund under our FanProtect Guarantee. We also refunded a second, accidental purchase — even though it didn’t qualify under our standard policy — to make things right. We know how important live experiences are and remain committed to supporting fans when things don’t go as planned.”

After Christopher Kennedy’s phone screen cracks mid-flight, he thinks SAS Scandinavian Airlines will make things right. But the airline twice denies his request for $400 in compensation, and even an appeal to a company vice president goes unanswered. Now what?

Question

On a recent flight from Copenhagen to Newark on SAS Scandinavian Airlines, I was in the aisle seat of an exit row. The passenger in the middle seat had a heavy bag with a water bottle in her lap, which a flight attendant stowed overhead before departure. Midway through the flight, another flight attendant opened the overhead bin and the bag fell, banging my wrist and cracking my phone screen.

I submitted a compensation request to SAS, but it was denied twice. I then appealed to a vice president at SAS, but never received a reply. I wanted SAS to pay for my phone repair. — Christopher Kennedy, Astoria, N.Y.

Answer

SAS should have handled this quickly and by the book. A bag falls out of an overhead bin and damages your phone — that’s an onboard accident, and you have a strong case under international law. Your detailed paper trail, photos, and polite escalation to a company executive should all work in your favor.

The Montreal Convention, which governs international air travel, makes airlines liable for damage caused by onboard accidents. A falling bag hitting a passenger fits that definition. While airlines often argue over what constitutes liability, the convention is clear that carriers are responsible for incidents that occur during a flight if they result in injury or damage to passenger property. (Related: Why won’t Transavia refund me for a ticket I already paid for?)

SAS also didn’t follow its internal policies. The airline has long emphasized its commitment to customer service. Its code of conduct notes that “every promise made to a customer is a commitment that we must deliver on in all situations.” This principle underscores SAS’s dedication to providing quality service and addressing customer concerns promptly. And in your case, it fell short.

Usually, a brief, polite email to an SAS executive will get the process moving. But in your case, it looks like it didn’t.

If you find yourself in a similar situation, always document everything. Take photos of the damage, get names of crew members who assist, and file a claim as soon as possible. Airlines are far more likely to respond when they see clear, detailed evidence and a calm request for compensation.

This case is a reminder that even when airlines initially deny a claim, persistence — and a solid understanding of your rights — can pay off.

Of course, the best way to avoid a damage claim during a flight is to see a situation like this and take steps to prevent it. If someone is trying to stuff a bag into the overhead compartment, speak up. I’ve seen overhead compartments pop open in flight, and you definitely don’t want a heavy bag falling on your head. If that happened, the repair bill would be more than $400, and the damage could last a lifetime. Fortunately, you weren’t injured by the falling bag.

My team contacted SAS on your behalf to revisit your claim. Within days, the airline had a change of heart. “We have reviewed the matter further and have decided to proceed with a direct bank transfer as a gesture of goodwill in recognition of the inconvenience you experienced,” a representative told you. SAS sent you $400 to pay for a phone repair.

Kristen Rodriguez thought she had scored a deal when she prepaid for her checked baggage on Frontier Airlines.The airline app showed a straightforward offer: $29 for each checked bag, each way, for two passengers. 

That should be $116 to get her bags roundtrip from Philadelphia to Cancun, right?

Wrong. It turns out Frontier had scored — on her. 

Rodriguez clicked “add baggage” and entered her credit card information. When the confirmation email arrived, she did what every smart traveler should do — she checked the receipt.

The total was $136. The cost of one of her bags had mysteriously jumped from $29 to $49.

“I immediately reached out to customer service,” Rodriguez told me. “The phone wait was 168 minutes, so I tried the chat.”

The chat agent, Tushar, agreed Rodriguez had been overcharged and offered to refund the $20 difference. But there was a catch. It would come as a Frontier credit, not a refund to her original payment method.

“That was unacceptable,” Rodriguez said. “The app made an error. Why should I be stuck with airline credit?”

This case raises several important questions:

• How do airline baggage fees really work, and can they change during the booking process?
• What are your rights when an airline’s app or website overcharges you?
• How do you escalate a bait-and-switch case like this?

“He could only give me a travel credit”

When Rodriguez refused the credit offered by Frontier, Tushar fell back on the airline’s favorite excuse: dynamic pricing. 

Frontier’s own FAQ confirms that “bag prices vary depending on your travel dates and when you purchase them,” but this doesn’t explain why baggage fees would change mid-transaction for passengers on the same reservation.

Rodriguez wasn’t buying it. 

“There is no way airlines can have dynamic pricing for baggage and charge whatever they want,” she told the agent. “Especially when purchasing baggage for the same reservation.”

After Tushar refused to help, Rodriguez tried the executive approach. She emailed Barry Biffle, Frontier’s CEO, directly. (Here are Frontier’s executive email addresses.) 

No response. 

She attempted to fill out Frontier’s online refund form, but the system wouldn’t accept her reason for the refund request.

Growing desperate, Rodriguez got creative. She filed the refund request claiming she was overcharged for a “second seat” just to get the form to work. She also emailed two other Frontier customer service representatives. They also refused to help her.

Would Rodriguez be stuck in Frontier’s refund labyrinth forever?

How do airline baggage fees really work?

Airlines have transformed baggage fees from simple add-ons into complex revenue optimization tools. What started as basic charges for extra bags back in 2009 has evolved into a sophisticated pricing system that can change based on dozens of variables.

The dirty secret? Most airlines, including Frontier, use dynamic pricing for baggage fees. These fees are lowest when paid during booking and rise if paid later or at the airport.

But Rodriguez’s case reveals something more problematic — fees that change during the transaction itself.

Traditional airline pricing operates on a supply-and-demand model. Seat prices fluctuate based on booking patterns, seasonal demand, and competitor pricing. But baggage fees were supposed to be different — more stable and predictable.

Not anymore. Airlines have discovered they can apply the same dynamic pricing algorithms to baggage that they use for seats. The result: A system where your bag might cost $29 when you start the booking process and $49 by the time you finish.

This isn’t entirely random. Airlines track user behavior, monitoring how long you spend on their website, whether you’ve visited before, and even your device type. Some industry insiders call it “price personalization,” but passengers might recognize it by another name: discrimination.

In Rodriguez’s case, the pricing change happened within a single transaction for passengers on the same reservation. One passenger got the $29 rate; Rodriguez got stuck with $49 for the same service on the return flight. This suggests either a glitch in Frontier’s system or an algorithm that makes pricing decisions passenger by passenger, even within the same booking.

The Federal Aviation Administration doesn’t regulate baggage fee pricing. That’s left to market forces. The Department of Transportation (DOT) requires airlines to disclose fees clearly, but “clearly” doesn’t mean “consistently.” And DOT is also vague on the required timing of the disclosure.

Airlines defend dynamic pricing as a way to manage demand and maximize revenue efficiency. They argue it’s no different from hotels charging more for rooms during peak season or ride-sharing apps implementing surge pricing.

But there’s a key difference. When Uber charges surge pricing, you see the multiplier before you book. Rodriguez saw $29 and got charged $49. 

That’s not dynamic pricing. It’s a bait-and-switch. 

What are your rights when an airline overcharges you?

When an airline’s booking system overcharges you, your rights depend largely on what you can prove and how persistently you’re willing to fight.

The good news: Airlines can’t just keep money they shouldn’t have charged you. The Department of Transportation’s rules are clear on this point. If an airline makes a billing error, it must correct it.

The bad news: Proving a billing error can be surprisingly difficult, especially when dealing with dynamic pricing systems.

Rodriguez had an advantage many passengers lack. She took screenshots of the original $29 pricing before completing her purchase. Without that documentation, her case would have been almost impossible to prove. The airline could simply claim the pricing was correct based on their dynamic algorithms.

Whenever booking tickets, screenshots of every screen that shows prices are an important safeguard in case of an overcharge.

Contact customer service immediately. Unfortunately, airlines train their customer service agents to offer credits instead of refunds whenever possible. Credits tie you to that specific airline and often come with restrictions and expiration dates.

Don’t accept a credit if you’re entitled to a refund. Federal regulations require airlines to provide refunds to your original payment method when they’ve made an error. The key word is “error” — if the airline claims the pricing was intentional (even if it seems wrong to you), they can be more restrictive with refunds.

Keep a rock-solid paper trail. Save screenshots of pricing pages, confirmation emails, and any customer service interactions. If you’re dealing with chat support, copy and paste the entire conversation. If you’re on the phone, take notes with names, times, and reference numbers (though I don’t recommend doing this on the phone).

Know when to escalate your case. If front-line customer service can’t or won’t help, ask for a supervisor. If that fails, try the airline’s complaint department. Every airline is required to have a formal complaint process.

When internal escalation fails, consider external pressure. Social media can be surprisingly effective. Airlines often respond faster to public complaints than private ones. The Department of Transportation’s complaint portal is another option, though the process can take months.

In Rodriguez’s case, the airline’s formal response was a form letter essentially telling her tough luck: “Refunds for baggage fees are not eligible. These charges are considered non-refundable once the service has been selected and paid for.”

This response reveals a massive misunderstanding (or deliberate obfuscation) of the issue. Rodriguez wasn’t asking for a refund because she changed her mind. She was asking for a correction of what appeared to be a billing error.

The airline’s position might hold water if Rodriguez had simply decided she didn’t want to check bags anymore. But when your own system shows $29 and charges $49, that’s not a customer’s change of heart. That’s the airline’s mistake — or its dishonesty.

Is it time to call a consumer advocate?

Most advocates won’t take cases where passengers haven’t tried to resolve the issue themselves first. Companies need a chance to fix their mistakes before advocates get involved.

Knowing when to call in reinforcements can save you months of frustration and potentially hundreds or thousands of dollars. Consumer advocates aren’t magic, but they have tools and relationships that ordinary passengers don’t.

The decision to escalate should be based on three factors:

1. The dollar amount
2. The principle involved.
3. The time you’ve already invested.

Dollar amounts matter, but they’re not everything. A $20 overcharge might not seem worth fighting for, but multiply that by thousands of passengers, and you’re looking at systemic problems that need addressing. Sometimes the smallest cases reveal the biggest issues.

More important is the principle. In Rodriguez’s case, the principle was clear—an airline’s booking system shouldn’t charge you more than it promises. If airlines can get away with this kind of pricing inconsistency, it sets a precedent that hurts all travelers.

Time investment is the third factor. If you’ve already spent hours on customer service calls and gotten nowhere, it’s time to consider outside help. Your time has value, and there’s a point where continuing to fight on your own becomes counterproductive.

Before contacting a consumer advocate, make sure you’ve built a credible paper trail. Advocates need documentation to make their case to companies. Screenshots, emails, chat transcripts, and phone call notes are all crucial.

When you do reach out to an advocate, be clear and concise about what happened and what you want. Don’t embellish or exaggerate — inflated claims hurt your credibility, and advocates can spot them quickly.

Finally, be realistic about outcomes. Advocates can’t guarantee results, and some cases simply can’t be won. But when a company messes up and refuses to fix it, advocates often have the relationships and persistence to get results.

Will she get her $20 back?

In Rodriguez’s case, our advocacy team contacted Frontier, explaining the situation and asking for comment. Within days the airline responded and issued a refund. 

Rodriguez got her $20 back, but the bigger question remains unanswered: In an industry increasingly dominated by dynamic pricing and algorithmic decision-making, is bait-and-switch pricing becoming the new normal?

One thing is certain: The next time you book baggage on Frontier, take a screenshot first.

Remember when travel rewards programs actually rewarded you? You collected points, earned status, and got “free” flights.

So why does it all feel like a trap now? 

Somewhere along the way, these schemes stopped rewarding loyalty and started exploiting it. Points quietly got devalued. Elite tiers required ever-higher spending thresholds. “Free” flights started coming with hundreds of dollars in taxes and fees. 

And loyalty became a gilded cage.

“The whole point of loyalty programs is to improve the customer experience, not restrict it,” says Mario Matulich, president of Customer Management Practice. “If your points don’t go as far, status gets harder to earn, or cashing in rewards feels like pulling teeth, then the program isn’t really delivering. When it gets to that point, rewards programs feel more like a burden than a reward.”

Millions of travelers now find themselves trapped in loyalty quicksand. The deeper you sink, the harder it becomes to escape. The programs that once felt like partnerships are now predatory relationships designed to extract maximum value while delivering minimum benefits.

The loyalty goalposts are moving

Consider what happened to Gerri Hether. The retired nurse from Mesa, Ariz., thought she’d mastered the loyalty game. After years of religiously charging everything to her Marriott Bonvoy credit card and staying faithful to one airline, she’d climbed the elite tiers and accumulated hundreds of thousands of points.

Then she tried to book her dream vacation to Hawaii.

“I needed 250,000 miles for a one-way first-class ticket from Phoenix to Maui,” Hether says. “Last time I used miles two years ago, it was 80,000 miles for a round-trip first-class ticket.” 

Neither she nor her husband had enough points for even one ticket.

But Hether didn’t accept her situation. She decided to do something about the unfairness of the moving goalposts. In a minute I’ll tell you how she fought back.

Why loyalty programs feel like prisons

Remember when frequent flyer programs rewarded, well, frequent flying? Not anymore. Airlines now base rewards on dollars spent, not miles flown. Hotel chains silently delete perks. Credit card companies raise annual fees while reducing benefits.

Recent data from Mews, a hospitality technology company, reveals that 82 percent of current hotel loyalty members cite frustrations with traditional programs. The top complaints:

• Points expiring too quickly (28 percent)

• Blackout dates limiting redemptions (24 percent)  

• Difficulty earning meaningful rewards (23 percent)

“I had executive lounge access at every Hilton stay through my Amex Platinum status,” says Pamela Wagner, who runs a global advertising agency and has visited over 100 countries. “This has been removed silently over the last two years. No email, no communication. Just a ‘Sorry, that’s not available anymore’ at check-in.”

The cruel irony? While loyalty programs have become less generous to travelers, they’ve become gold mines for companies. Most airlines now earn more profit from their frequent flyer programs than from actually flying planes.

How to know if you’re caught in a loyalty trap

Before you can escape, you need to recognize you’re trapped. Here are the warning signs:

You’re chasing status instead of value. If you’re spending extra money just to maintain elite tiers, you’ve crossed from customer to captive. Financial advisor Winnie Sun tells clients to calculate their actual return annually. “One client was spending an extra $3,000 yearly on a specific airline just to maintain elite status that saved her maybe $800 in fees,” she says. “It wasn’t worth it.”

You’re making travel decisions based on points, not preferences. When your loyalty program dictates where you stay or which airline you fly — even when cheaper or better options exist — you’re no longer in control. Your loyalty program is.

Your “free” rewards come with expensive strings. Airlines love displaying “Free Ticket” in large fonts while burying fuel surcharges, booking fees, and taxes in fine print. Those extras can push your “free” flight to cost hundreds out-of-pocket. It is often less expensive to just book a regular ticket.

You’re hoarding points indefinitely. If you’re collecting points without specific redemption goals, you’re vulnerable to devaluations and rule changes. Points sitting unused are assets losing value.

As you read this list, you may be saying to yourself, “Surely he’s not talking about me!” But maybe I am. Rachel Acres, a substance abuse counselor, draws parallels between loyalty programs and addiction. 

“In recovery, we learn that admitting you’ve wasted money on something that isn’t serving you anymore isn’t failure,” she says. “It’s wisdom.”

How smart travelers are approaching loyalty

Smart travelers are treating loyalty programs like any other vendor relationship. When the terms no longer work, they walk.

One of the strategies is the “portfolio” approach. Instead of putting all their eggs in one loyalty basket, savvy travelers are diversifying. 

“The smartest approach I’ve seen is the ‘portfolio method’ — spread your spending across two to three programs instead of going all-in on one,” says Sun. “When Delta devalued their program in 2023, my diversified clients barely noticed, while the loyal-to-one-brand travelers scrambled.”

There’s also the property-over-brand strategy. Andy Abramson, a longtime business traveler, advocates for what he calls property loyalty over brand loyalty: “A property that knows you, values you, and trusts you is far more likely to deliver meaningful benefits than a faceless brand that just wants to keep you spinning in its points hamster wheel,” he says.

Another popular approach is the cash-back rebellion. Some travelers are abandoning points entirely and moving to a card that offers a flat 2 percent cash back. The math — earning back money that equals or surpasses the card’s annual cost — often works out.

The most successful escapees treat their loyalty programs like insurance policies — reviewing them annually and dropping those that no longer deliver value.

What are the new rules of loyalty?

For travelers who aren’t ready to abandon loyalty programs entirely, here are the new rules for making them work on your terms:

• Set spending caps. Experts say you shouldn’t spend more than $500 annually chasing status in any single program. If meaningful benefits require more investment, the math doesn’t work.

• Focus on flexibility. Choose programs that offer multiple redemption options and partners. Flexibility protects against devaluations.

• Earn and burn quickly. Set specific redemption goals and use points within 12 to 18 months. Don’t let them accumulate indefinitely.

• Track real value. Calculate the actual dollar value you’re earning per dollar spent, not the inflated “point values” programs advertise.

“Treat points like a depreciating asset,” advises Jeff Galak, who teaches marketing at Carnegie Mellon University. “Just like your car loses value once you drive it off the lot, points lose value with time. In other words, consumers should not hoard points, but rather, should use them.”

Is this the future of travel loyalty?

The loyalty landscape is already shifting. Companies like Loya are emerging with instant cash-back models instead of deferred rewards. Hotels are focusing on personalization over points — recent data shows 68% of travelers now prioritize personalized experiences over accumulating points, with Gen Z leading at 83%.

“The era of transactional loyalty is over,” says Richard Valtr, founder of Mews. “Today’s travelers want genuine recognition — the kind that comes from truly understanding who your customer is.”

And how about Hether, the retired nurse from Arizona? After discovering her miles had been devalued, she didn’t just complain — she acted.

“I canceled the Marriott card when the annual fee hit $650 with fewer benefits,” she says. 

Hether went with a cash-back card that offered her more flexible redemption offers. She’s found freedom in flexibility. By abandoning her pursuit of elite status and focusing on value, she’s discovered she can travel more for less. Her former loyalty programs might not miss her, but she doesn’t miss them either.

And maybe that’s how to escape the loyalty quicksand. Because sometimes, the best loyalty program is no loyalty program at all.

Turns out there is such a thing as a free ride. 

That’s what I discovered when I hopped on a tram in Melbourne, Australia, last week. When I tapped my Myki card—the local version of a transit pass—the fare was exactly zero Australian dollars. 

As a consumer advocate, I’m constantly telling my readers there’s no such thing as free. So what gives?

Taking the zero-fare plunge

The state government of Victoria (the Australian equivalent of a U.S. state administration) made all metropolitan and regional public transport, including trains, trams, and buses, free from March 31 to April 30. The official reason? To provide cost-of-living relief as fuel prices skyrocket across the globe. Going zero-fare will cost about $48 million.

By making transit free, the government is stepping between the consumer and the global oil market. The message is clear: Take the train. You’ll save energy—and money. (Related: In eastern Germany, Rostock is on a quiet green journey.)

Since the latest global conflict began, fuel prices in Victoria have surged by more than 40 percent. For the average household, that’s a heavy burden that hits every time you start the car. You can practically hear the audible gasp at the gas pump.

OK, the price tag might also trigger an audible gasp in the Victoria legislature, but the rides are a smart, strategic hedge against higher fuel prices. By making transit free, the state is buying a month of energy sanity for its residents. 

Daily commuters in Melbourne can keep an average of $150 in their pockets this month instead of watching the money get sucked into the fuel tank. Plus, moving people in a shared, electric-powered grid is far more efficient than moving them one at a time in two-ton metal boxes. If $48 million creates a buffer against the whims of oil-producing nations, it sure looks like a smart decision by a forward-looking government.

Fare-free public transit is catching on

Victoria isn’t the only place trying to protect consumers from the fuel shock. Other places have realized that old-school transit policies don’t work in a world pummeled by high energy prices.

In Tasmania, the government has greenlit free buses and ferries statewide through mid-2026. Belgrade, Serbia, recently became the largest European city to offer entirely free public transit. Montpellier, France, implemented free transit for all residents to combat both inflation and emissions. And then there’s Luxembourg, the first country in the world to make all public transport free nationwide.

Even in the United States, some turnstiles have been lifted. Cities like Boston, Charlottesville, Va., and Kansas City have experimented with fare-free routes to lower energy costs for residents. It’s a recognition that mobility is not a luxury, but a right.

The movement even has a name now: fare-free public transit, or FFPT. 

Will a month of free rides fix the energy crisis?

But let’s be honest: A one-month freebie in Melbourne is the policy equivalent of an aspirin for a broken leg. It fixes the pain, but not the underlying problem.

Permanent structural change that prevents global volatility from bankrupting the local commuter is necessary. When we rely on a transportation system tied to the whims of oil-producing nations and recurring wars, we’re hostages to energy prices.

I love the zero-fare swipe because it feels like a win. But a month from now, the Myki gates will close again, the fares will return, and the fuel prices will likely still be unaffordably high.

Consumers will be exactly where they started, having to decide between a pricey train fare and an even pricier car trip. It’s not an easy calculation, especially if you have kids. At what point does the car make more sense? (The answer is that mass transit should always be more affordable.)

No, a temporary FFPT reprieve isn’t going to work.

What’s the real solution to soaring fuel prices?

If a government really wants to protect its citizens from rising fuel prices, it needs to stop acting like a temporary buffer and start behaving like an architect. We don’t need a fare holiday, but a permanent shift away from the fuels that start these conflicts in the first place.

It’s easy to stand on a podium and announce a month of free rides. It’s much harder to build a transit network that’s so efficient and sustainable that fuel prices become irrelevant.

War is a recurring disruption. The real solution to the fuel price shock isn’t just ending one war. It’s building a world that doesn’t need the oil that fuels them.

The best way to protect consumers in the long run is energy independence through sustainable, robust public transit. Melbourne is experimenting with that. Luxembourg already has it. The United States has some catching up to do. 

Maybe we need to stop treating free transit like a gift and start treating it like the fundamental infrastructure of a functioning society.

Until then, enjoy your free ride. Just don’t forget to keep an eye on your wallet. The fares will return soon enough.

The war in Iran may or may not be winding down, but for millions of Americans planning a summer road trip, the damage is already done. Gas prices have blown past $4 a gallon nationally — hitting $4.081 on April 2 — and in states like California, drivers are already staring down $5.89 at the pump.

Here’s the part the industry doesn’t want you to think too hard about: It doesn’t need the war to last. It just needed it to happen.

Why the war is a gift to the petroleum industry

Global crude oil prices roughly doubled last month, briefly topping $110 per barrel at the height of the conflict. U.S. prices hit $5 a gallon in many regions — matching the historical high set in June 2022, the number the industry has always known consumers could absorb.

That benchmark is important. I’ve spent my career watching companies use global crises to reset the floor on pricing. They call it “recalibration,” but it translates into a pricier vacation for you. (Related: Car rental rage: Why everyone’s losing it at the counter right now.)

While retail gas prices follow crude oil up almost instantly, they drift down agonizingly slowly. Analysts who study pump pricing have documented this asymmetry for decades. Even if a ceasefire is announced today, you probably won’t feel it by July 4. Maybe not by Labor Day either.

Beyond the pump, elevated fuel costs are already rippling into airfares, groceries, and delivery fees — compounding the squeeze on any travel budget.

So what does this actually mean for your summer trip?

Analysts are warning of a meaningful decline in summer road travel if prices hold. But whether you cancel, reroute, or grit your teeth and go, you’re making a financial decision — and you deserve honest information to make it.

A few things you need to know:

• If you’re driving a gas vehicle, your cost per mile is roughly 20 to 30 percent higher than it was two summers ago, depending on your fuel economy. A 1,000-mile round trip that cost you $80 in gas in 2023 could run $100 to $110 this summer.

• If you’re considering switching to off-peak travel to save money — say, driving mid-week instead of the holiday weekend — that strategy still works. Gas prices don’t vary by day of week the way airfares do, but traffic does, and burning less fuel sitting in construction slowdowns is real money.

• If you were counting on prices falling before you book, stop waiting. History says you’ll be disappointed.

We’ll have more money saving strategies in tomorrow’s Consumer Alert.

Will these gas prices make you change your vacation plans?

Here’s the big question:

And a follow-up question or two:

• If you said yes: What pushed you over the edge — the price itself, or the principle of it? And what are you doing instead?
  
• If you said no: What’s your workaround — shorter route, fewer stops, splitting costs with someone? Or are you just absorbing it?

My take: The petroleum industry has been handed a perfect alibi. Prices went up because of the war. If they stay up after the war, there will be another reason — refinery capacity, hurricane season. There’s always a reason. What there isn’t, historically, is a corresponding urgency to pass savings back to the consumer.

The travel industry has pulled the same trick with airline fuel surcharges, hotel resort fees, and rental car surcharges. The crisis is temporary, but the price increase is permanent. Still, Americans travel. We’ve absorbed $4 gas before, and we’ll do it again. The question is whether you’ll let it change your plans

Your thoughts?

I’d love to get your comments on these higher fuel prices. How will these rates affect your next trip?

You’re minutes away from confirming your dream vacation. You’ve selected a flight, hotel and rental car. And then you see the question: “Add travel insurance to protect your trip for just $89?” 

One click, and you’re covered. Right?

Maybe, maybe not. 

That convenient checkout insurance you’re about to buy is what industry insiders call the fast-food version of coverage — cheap, quick, and likely to leave you hungry for real protection when you need it most.

Almost 1 in 4 travelers experienced a flight delay or cancellation, according to recent data from AirHelp. Yet many of those same travelers who thought they were covered by insurance discovered their checkout policies offered little more than expensive and illusory peace of mind.

“Checkout travel insurance is often cheap and incomplete, and we all know cutting corners on safety is risky,” says Danielle Graham, sales manager for Global Rescue. “Most of these policies don’t include essentials like medical evacuation or security extraction.” (Related: Her hotel canceled by “mistake,” but Booking.com billed her anyway. Now what?)

Research by Yonder Travel Insurance found that travel supplier policies cover 15 to 30 percent fewer cancellation reasons, offer 10 to 33 percent less medical evacuation coverage, and provide about three times less missed connection protection compared to retail policies.

And that’s the problem. The U.S. travel insurance market reached $8 billion in 2023 and is predicted to hit $15 billion by 2030, but a growing chunk of those sales comes from add-on policies that don’t always protect you.

The markup nobody talks about

Here’s what travel companies don’t want you to know: those checkout policies are massive profit centers. Patrick Caruso, an independent insurance agent, recently quoted a client $34 for standalone coverage that would have cost $89 through an airline’s checkout process.

“The markup on checkout policies is brutal because the booking platform takes their cut too,” Caruso said. “When I price standalone travel insurance for my clients, I’m seeing 40 to 60 percent savings for equivalent coverage.” (Related: Is ICE the answer to our airport security problems?)

The math gets worse when you realize you’re paying more for less. 

“Most people don’t realize that checkout policies are underwritten by the same major insurers I work with directly, just with more restrictive terms and higher prices,” Caruso explains. “You’re literally paying more for less coverage and worse claims handling.”

Danny Karon, author of “Your Lovable Lawyer’s Guide to Legal Wellness,” agrees: “The price you pay for the coverage is often inflated, and the payout rate can be as low as 8 cents for every dollar spent.”

When convenient becomes costly

Chahanler Marks learned this lesson the hard way. On a cruise booking, he clicked the checkout insurance box, assuming he’d be covered. 

“When a canceled flight out of Atlanta threw off my plans, the policy barely helped,” recalls Marks, an IT specialist from Chattanooga, Tenn. “The coverage looked simple but left me eating most of the costs.”

Alex Smith had a similar wake-up call. After purchasing checkout insurance for both a $780 round-trip flight and a $1,200 cruise, he discovered the policies’ limitations when a flight delay caused him to miss the first night of his cruise.

“The insurer only paid out cancellations that fit a very strict list of conditions, and my lost accommodations of $300 were not covered,” says Smith, who runs a software company in Toronto. 

The timing trap catches many travelers off guard. Caruso, the travel advisor, had a client whose father suffered a heart attack two weeks before a cruise. 

“The checkout policy wouldn’t cover cancellation because it was purchased ‘too close to departure,’ while a standalone policy would have covered it fully,” he says.

What are you actually buying?

Many experts say checkout insurance is designed to protect the travel company’s interests, not yours.

“Most ‘trip protection’ buttons have no named underwriter, no 24/7 assistance, and they almost always give vouchers instead of cash should something go wrong,” said Mark Whitman, a travel insurance consultant at Rise & Shield.

Travel agent Maria LaDuca also warns that if you have to cancel, you’ll usually just get a future credit instead of your money back. 

“And those plans almost never cover the big things that really matter, like medical emergencies, evacuations, lost luggage, or long delays,” she adds.

Jackie Mondelli, chief marketing officer of Squaremouth sees this constantly: “These checkout travel insurance policies may appear at checkout even for fully refundable bookings, where trip cancellation coverage is not necessary.”

The medical coverage mirage

That’s not all. Neville Mehra, co-founder of the travel insurance platform Genki, says there are other consequences of buying add-on insurance at checkout. But you may not find out about them until you have a health problem while you’re on the road.

“Ending up in a hospital in a foreign country — there’s really no limit to how much it might cost in the case of a severe accident or illness,” Mehra said. “We’ve seen cases even in countries that are considered budget destinations like Mexico and Thailand where travelers have ended up in the hospital with bills ranging from $30,000 to $100,000 for inpatient surgeries for things like appendicitis.”

Many checkout policies either exclude medical coverage entirely or cap it at laughably low amounts, according to experts. 

Max Coupland, CEO of Insuranceopedia, warns that travelers often discover these gaps too late.

“Checkout insurance often has very narrow definitions of covered reasons for cancellation, things like illness or severe weather, while excluding common scenarios such as work-related cancellations, pre-existing medical conditions, or strikes,” Coupland says.

The adventure traveler’s nightmare

For anything beyond basic travel, checkout policies become virtually useless. Whitman of Rise & Shield points to a common scenario that leaves adventurous travelers exposed.

“Most checkout policies exclude mountaineering or cap trekking at 2,000 to 3,000 meters, so altitude illness or a heli-evac isn’t covered,” Whitman said. “Here’s my rule of thumb: if the activity or altitude isn’t spelled out, you’re not covered.”

Professional photographer Jeffrey Wang, who logs over 100,000 miles annually with expensive equipment, learned to avoid checkout options entirely.

“These policies are often disappointingly narrow and designed to protect the trip cost for casual travelers,” Wang says. “Not the specialized gear or creative investment that defines my livelihood.” 

When checkout coverage works

But checkout insurance isn’t always worthless. For simple domestic trips or short weekend getaways, it can provide basic protection at a reasonable price.

“For simple, low-cost trips, checkout insurance may be sufficient,” Coupland said. “For bigger, international, or nonrefundable trips, shop a standalone policy for broader protection.”

Some travel companies do offer legitimate value. EF Go Ahead Tours provides “cancel for any reason” policies for $75 on trips that can cost thousands per traveler. When you’re spending serious money, that level of flexibility becomes worthwhile.

But you have to do your due diligence before clicking the “buy” button. Scott Fleming, president of Aon Affinity Travel Practice, notes that while checkout policies offer convenience and customization for specific trip types, “we recommend that consumers always review their coverage to ensure it meets their individual needs.”

The smart shopper’s strategy: buy or wait?

The experts are nearly unanimous: shop carefully for standalone coverage. Very carefully.

“I usually tell clients that they should shop around to find a plan that is best suited for them,” said John Cook, president of QuoteWright.com. “The travel plans at checkout are generally stripped-down plans that are designed to hit a specific price point that maximizes sales rather than benefits to the traveler.”

Suzanne Morrow, CEO of InsureMyTrip, echoes this advice.

“Independent, third-party travel insurance providers typically offer broader protection, often at a more competitive price,” she says.

The average cost of comprehensive travel insurance runs 5 to 6 percent of your trip costs, according to recent analysis. For a $7,000 trip, that’s roughly $350 to $420 — often less than what you’d pay for multiple checkout policies that cover only portions of your journey.

Travel guide Lahcen Ait-Hami has watched this play out with his clients in Morocco. “Travelers who purchased a separate policy usually felt more secure, especially when their trip involved multiple stops, longer stays, or activities like camping in the Sahara. The separate policy is more protective and easier to comprehend.”

The coverage that counts

When shopping for standalone policies, focus on what really matters. 

“It’s always a good idea to review the terms and conditions to make sure the benefits align with the specific travel itinerary,” says Rhonda Abedsalam, vice president of travel insurance at AXA Partners US.

Look for policies that include:

• Emergency medical and evacuation coverage (especially crucial internationally)
• Trip cancellation for a broad range of reasons
• Coverage that begins when you purchase the policy
• Cash payouts, not vouchers or credits
• 24/7 assistance and support

Steve Johnson, chief product officer at Backpack Insurance, says you have to make sure you get the real deal — not some stripped-down, overpriced version of insurance.

“Ask yourself: Is it complete travel insurance, or is it only flight insurance?” he says. “Is it a comprehensive policy, or does it only cover the traveler’s bags? Does it only cover travel purchases made using a specific credit card?”

Don’t forget the annual option

For frequent travelers, annual policies can offer the best value. Diana Steele, who works for a university in Cleveland, says her $275 annual policy has saved her a lot of money. 

“Each year, I’ve had a mishap — urgent care visit, canceled flight, emergency dental work — that cost me at least slightly more than the insurance itself,” she says. “My last trip, to Spain in June, had a canceled return flight that left me stranded overnight in Madrid. I spent 250 euros to remain in the hotel. By the following Thursday, my claim was paid in full.”

What to do when you book your trip

One thing is clear: When you’re booking your trip, you have a decision to make about travel insurance.

“Buy your travel insurance when you book your trip,” advises Daniel Durazo, a spokesman for Allianz Partners. “If you wait to buy insurance, you may not be covered if an event happens between when you book and when you purchase the insurance.”

The question is, where should you buy? 

The best advice is to shop around. Sure, it takes a few extra minutes. But would you buy car insurance from a car dealer without comparing rates? Would you purchase homeowner’s insurance from your real estate agent just because it’s convenient?

The travel industry has trained us to expect convenience at every step, but some conveniences might cost more than they’re worth. That checkout insurance box isn’t necessarily there to protect you, but it will always protect the travel company’s bottom line.

When Audrey Kessler sells her home in Ravenna, Ohio, the $75 monthly bill from Ohio Valley Waste for trash service doesn’t stop. Even after she called, emailed, and filled out the company’s online form, the bills keep coming. How can she make them end?

Question

I closed on the sale of my home in Ravenna, Ohio, almost six months ago, but Ohio Valley Waste continues to bill me $75 per month for trash service. 

I’ve called the company several times and a representative told me the account would be closed. I emailed three times and the third time, I received an autoreply that said my message was deleted without being read.

I want the billing to stop, my autopay canceled, and a refund for the charges since I sold the property. So far, the company has ignored me. Can you help? — Audrey Kessler, Kent, Ohio

Answer

You shouldn’t be paying for garbage pickup at a property you don’t own. Once you notify a utility or trash hauler of a home sale, your account should be closed and any future charges stopped. That’s standard practice in the industry.

But in your case, it looks like something went wrong. Your calls slipped through the cracks. Your emails were ignored. And, in one case, a message was deleted without even being read. That’s more than just frustrating — it’s a basic failure of customer service.

It’s rare to see a business ignore a customer so systematically and continue charging for services the customer is trying to cancel. But it’s not unprecedented. Generally speaking, businesses make it easy to become a customer but hard to leave (and in some cases, impossible). Today, Ohio Valley Waste is the poster child for this practice. But tomorrow, who knows?

Fortunately, the law is on your side. Under Ohio’s Consumer Sales Practices Act, it’s unlawful for a business to bill you for services you aren’t receiving. And at the federal level, the Electronic Fund Transfer Act protects you from unauthorized withdrawals. Once you revoke permission for autopay, a company must stop pulling money from your account. If it doesn’t, you can file a dispute with your bank and get the charges reversed. (At the very least, you could have told your bank to stop the automatic payments.)

This is why a paper trail matters. Phone calls can be dismissed, but emails and written correspondence are hard evidence. You had some emails between you and Ohio Valley Waste, but no record of the phone conversations. 

Emails give advocates like me something to work with when a company won’t respond. When you sell your next house, don’t just rely on a call to Ohio Valley Waste to close your account. Do it in writing, if possible. Notify your bank, cancel the autopay on your end, and keep copies of every message.

After I reached out to Ohio Valley Waste, your case finally got the attention it deserved. The company closed your account and refunded the charges it deducted after your sale. 

When Rachel Newton books flights that include a leg on Transavia, a Dutch discount airline, she expects a no-frills experience — but not a surprise fee that doubles the cost of his trip. Why won’t the airline make things right?

Question

My family of four flew from Toronto to Marrakech on tickets booked directly with Delta Air Lines. The first leg was on KLM, and the connection was on Transavia.

When we landed in Amsterdam, Transavia couldn’t find our reservation at first. After two hours of back and forth, a representative said our tickets weren’t paid in full. 

The airline wouldn’t give us boarding passes unless we paid $1,198 on the spot. We had no choice but to pay.

When we returned home, I contacted Delta Air Lines, which advised me to file a chargeback on my credit card.

Transavia admitted a refund was due and repeatedly told me they were processing it — but the money never arrived. Each time I follow up, they either ask for the same banking details again or insist the transfer was rejected. My bank has no record of any attempt by Transavia to send the refund.

Transavia now says it will close my case if I don’t provide the requested information, which I’ve already sent several times. It feels like a runaround. Can you help me get my $1,198 back? — Rachel Newton, Toronto

Answer

If you had tickets to fly to Marrakech, you should have been allowed to board the flight without further payment. You had valid tickets issued by Delta, for flights operated by KLM and Transavia. The fact that Transavia claimed your tickets were “unpaid” was almost certainly a systems error. Forcing you to pay again at the counter, with your flight minutes from departure, feels like a shakedown.

I’m not surprised this happened to you on Transavia. The discount airline has been criticized for aggressive fees and, in some cases, refund delays that border on obstruction. In fact, I was on a Transavia flight from Athens to Paris recently, where an overzealous gate agent forced me to pay $80 just to carry a small bag on the plane. That left me with the impression that Transavia is far more interested in extracting money than in treating customers fairly. (Related: A bag fell from an overhead bin and cracked my phone. Should SAS pay?)

And the way Transavia handled your refund? Equally unacceptable. Transavia acknowledged multiple times that you were due a refund. But rather than simply processing it, the airline kept moving the goalposts: asking for details you’d already provided, insisting that payments had been sent (though your bank found no trace), and warning they would close your file if you didn’t comply. That’s not customer service — it’s delay by design.

When an airline takes money in error, European Union rules are clear: it must issue a prompt refund. Under EU Regulation 261, passengers are also entitled to assistance and rerouting when airlines mishandle tickets. While this law is better known for compensating delays and cancellations, its core principle is that airlines can’t simply strand you or extort additional money for a flight you’ve already purchased.

Delta’s advice to file a credit card dispute was wrong. You always want to work directly with the merchant (in this case, Transavia) to resolve a billing problem. If you file a dispute, that usually ties up any refund process. Fortunately, you didn’t take that advice from Delta.

You can also appeal your case to one of the executive contacts at Transavia that I list on my consumer advocacy website, Elliott.org.

This was a long and frustrating battle for money you never should have had to pay in the first place. And it’s a reminder: When an airline insists on cash or card at the counter for something that seems wrong, document everything and, if possible, push back before handing over your credit card.

I contacted Transavia on your behalf. 

“We fully understand how frustrating this situation must be for her and her family, and we regret the long time this refund process has already taken,” a representative told me. “Our records show that the refund has been initiated twice, but both transfers were rejected by the receiving bank.”

Actually, here’s what happened: You gave the airline a SWIFT/BIC code for the transfer but it insisted on an IBAN code, which isn’t used by U.S. or Canadian banks. You ended up opening an account with WISE to obtain an IBAN code and sent it to Transavia. You received a full refund, as promised.

When is a first-class ticket not a first-class ticket? When you’re Paul Nelson and you’re flying on American Airlines.

Nelson and his travel companion, Gail Klein, thought they had premium tickets on a recent flight from Philadelphia to Fort Lauderdale. They’d checked in online exactly 24 hours before departure. They’d even arrived at the airport early to verify their IDs and check their luggage at the priority counter.

But somewhere between the online check-in and the gate, Nelson’s confirmed first-class seat simply vanished.

“An American Airlines gate agent told Paul that they could not rebook him for another flight that day,” Klein recalls. 

The couple had fallen victim to what I call the “downsizing shuffle” – an increasingly common airline practice where passengers with confirmed seats get bumped when carriers change to smaller equipment for a flight.

This case raises several important questions:

• Can airlines bump confirmed first-class passengers when they downsize aircraft?
• What compensation are passengers entitled to when involuntarily denied boarding?
• How should travelers protect themselves against unexpected aircraft changes?

A confirmation that meant nothing

Klein and Nelson’s ordeal began at 6 a.m. when they arrived at Philadelphia International Airport for their nonstop flight to Florida. Everything seemed normal until they noticed Nelson’s boarding pass was missing his TSA PreCheck designation. Nelson is a PreCheck member.

“We went back to priority check to have the change made and they gave Paul a printed boarding pass which now listed him as standby,” Klein explains. (Related: Help! I paid Expedia $1,459 for an airline ticket that doesn’t exist.)

The agent at the priority counter offered no explanation. He simply told Nelson to “resolve this at the gate.”

What happened next reads like a customer service horror story. 

At the gate, Nelson received a boarding pass for seat 17F — a seat in the main cabin. When he questioned his new seat assignment, the ticket agent offered an indifferent response. Then, when he tried to board, an agent told him he didn’t have a ticket at all. He’d been bumped from the flight.

At that point, Klein faced a terrible choice: fly alone or forfeit their trip entirely.

Klein chose to fly alone to retrieve their checked luggage, leaving Nelson to book a last-minute Southwest Airlines flight, with a connection through Nashville, for $199. 

He expected American Airlines would quickly refund his ticket. But that didn’t happen.

The American Airlines credit runaround

When Nelson initially contacted American to get his money back, the airline offered him a flight credit instead of cash – despite the fact that he’d been involuntarily denied boarding from a confirmed seat. Klein and Nelson couldn’t use the credit within the required timeframe, making it essentially worthless.

“Paul wrote back to American Airlines, asking how they could refuse to refund the cost of the ticket which he was unable to use because he was bumped from the flight,” Klein says.

American never responded to his question, but offered 10,000 bonus miles to him and Klein as compensation for the “inconvenience.” The airline offered no explanation for how a confirmed first-class passenger could be bumped in the first place.

That’s when Klein contacted my advocacy team.

Can airlines bump confirmed first-class passengers when they downsize aircraft?

Unfortunately, yes. Airlines routinely change aircraft for operational reasons — in airline lingo, it’s called an “equipment change” — and when they do, passengers holding confirmed reservations can find themselves without seats. This practice, while legal under federal regulations, represents one of the industry’s most obnoxious habits.

The Department of Transportation requires airlines to ask for volunteers before involuntarily denying boarding, but this requirement applies primarily to oversold flights. When airlines downsize aircraft, the rules become murkier.

American Airlines’ contract of carriage gives it broad authority to change aircraft and reassign seats. The carrier’s Rule 25 states that it may “substitute alternate aircraft” and that “American will not be liable for failure to provide reserved seat accommodations.”

However, Klein and Nelson’s case illustrates a fundamental problem with this system. When airlines sell premium seats months in advance, then downsize aircraft without adequate compensation, they’re essentially practicing bait-and-switch tactics. 

And ultimately, American didn’t just downgrade him into an economy class seat. It bumped him from the flight. Here’s what an airline owes you when it denies you boarding.

The couple paid $868 for two first-class tickets, expecting premium service. Instead, they received separation anxiety, a $199 charge for a new ticket, and a 4-hour wait. 

That’s not the product they purchased.

Airlines defend aircraft changes as operational necessities, but passengers increasingly view them as cost-cutting measures disguised as safety protocols. When carriers consistently oversell premium cabins — as they might have here — knowing they may need to downsize, they’re lying to their customers.

Klein and Nelson’s experience suggests confirmed ticket reservations are increasingly worthless. If airlines can unilaterally change the terms of service after payment, what exactly are passengers buying?

What compensation are passengers entitled to when involuntarily denied boarding?

Federal regulations require substantial compensation for involuntary denied boarding, but airlines often try to minimize these payouts through creative interpretations of the rules.

Under Department of Transportation regulations, passengers involuntarily denied boarding are entitled to immediate cash compensation of up to $1,675, depending on the length of delay and ticket price. This compensation is in addition to refunds or rebooking assistance.

Airlines frequently offer flight credits instead of cash, hoping passengers won’t know their rights. In Klein and Nelson’s case, American initially offered only a flight credit despite clear involuntary denied boarding.

The key distinction is between voluntary and involuntary denial of boarding. When airlines ask for volunteers and passengers accept travel vouchers, that’s voluntary. When passengers are bumped against their will – as Nelson was – that’s involuntary, triggering federal compensation requirements.

If passengers accept the flight credits, airlines are off the hook for the cash payments.

American’s initial offer of 10,000 miles and a flight credit fell far short of federal requirements. At a minimum, Nelson was entitled to cash compensation of 400 percent of his one-way fare (up to $1,675) plus a full refund of his unused ticket.

The airline’s reluctance to pay proper compensation isn’t surprising. It’s a profitable policy. Many passengers simply accept whatever airlines offer, unaware of their rights.

How should travelers protect themselves against unexpected aircraft changes?

Protecting yourself against airline equipment swaps requires vigilance, documentation, and realistic expectations about carrier reliability.

• Nothing is guaranteed. When it comes to an airline seat, there’s no sure thing until you’re physically occupying it. Even first-class passengers with confirmed reservations made six months in advance can be bumped when airlines change aircraft.

• Keep meticulous records.  Klein and Nelson’s case got a lift partly because they maintained detailed records of their interactions with American. Saving confirmation emails, boarding passes, and photographs of gate displays showing aircraft changes.

• Check in early and arrive at the airport with extra time. Airlines often bump passengers in reverse order of check-in, so earlier is better. Monitor your flight status obsessively in the 24 hours before departure, since equipment changes often occur with minimal notice.

• Consider purchasing travel insurance that covers trip interruption. But read the fine print carefully. Many policies exclude coverage for airline operational changes, focusing instead on weather delays and medical emergencies.

• Know your rights under federal denied boarding regulations. Airlines bank on passenger ignorance about compensation requirements. If you’re involuntarily denied boarding, demand cash compensation immediately. Don’t accept vouchers or credits as initial offers.

Klein and Nelson’s experience also highlights the importance of booking directly with airlines rather than third-party sites. Direct bookings typically receive better treatment when problems arise, and, although they deny it, airlines prioritize their own customers over agency bookings during irregular operations.

That’s a hard truth about first class: While premium tickets offer enhanced comfort and service, they don’t guarantee immunity from operational disruptions. Factor potential rebooking costs and delays into the travel budget.

Airlines view passengers as revenue units rather than valued customers, and their operational decisions reflect this priority. The only defense against corporate indifference is informed advocacy and persistent follow-up.

Klein and Nelson learned these lessons the hard way, but their persistence ultimately paid off.

The power of advocacy

After weeks of airline stonewalling, Nelson called my team and our intervention with American produced swift results. The airline acknowledged its error and began making things right.

American refunded $434 to Nelson’s credit card and promised an additional $1,800 flight credit for the involuntary denied boarding. But as Klein and Nelson discovered, promises from airlines don’t always materialize immediately.

The airline refunded the fare, blaming “some sort of processing issue,” but the $1,800 credit failed to appear in Nelson’s account. That required another round of intervention from our advocate, Dwayne Coward. Finally, after our team’s follow-up contact, an airline representative called Nelson to apologize and immediately issued the promised credit.

“We can’t thank you enough for your help,” Klein wrote after the resolution. “We are so grateful that Elliott Advocacy has devoted itself to helping consumers resolve their claims.”

Klein and Nelson’s case illustrates both the problem and the solution with airline customer service. Air carriers will gladly accept premium payments while providing substandard service recovery when things go wrong. But persistent advocacy – armed with knowledge of federal regulations – can force accountability.

American Airlines ultimately did the right thing, but only after our team intervened. Without outside pressure, Klein and Nelson might have been stuck with their unacceptable vouchers and unanswered emails.

The real lesson here isn’t about airline reliability – we already know that’s questionable. It’s about the power of informed advocacy to transform corporate indifference into responsible customer service.

Sometimes, you just need to know who to call.

Marcy Schackne is mad. 

She recently waited 2½ hours at LAX just to talk to a car rental agent. After completing her paperwork, she inspected three vehicles that were “beyond dirty” before finding one suitable to drive. 

A one-off? Nope. 

A few weeks later, when she tried to rent a sedan at Washington Dulles, she waited 45 minutes for a car in her reserved category. The agent’s attitude was “take it or leave it.”

“Both experiences made me feel undervalued as a customer,” she says. 

Schackne, a marketing executive from Hollywood, Fla., was understandably upset. And she’s got company. 

There’s a new kind of travel fury that’s erupting at counters everywhere: car rental rage. It’s the result of several unfortunate car rental problems, including hidden fees, cleaning charges that would make a hotel manager blush, and service that feels more adversarial than accommodating.

And drivers aren’t just getting mad. They’re getting even.

Why are travelers angry about car rentals?

Why is car rental rage so rampant right now? Three words: frustration, deception — and powerlessness.

Thomas Plante, a psychology professor at Santa Clara University, points to the “frustration-aggression hypothesis” to explain what’s happening. 

“Anger typically unfolds as a response to frustration and stress,” he says. “Travel has become more and more stressful in many ways. We seem to be getting less and less service for more and more costs and hassles. It’s a perfect recipe for frustration and stress that leads to aggression.” (Related: Your summer road trip just got 30 percent more expensive. Here’s how to fight back.)

The triggers are everywhere:

Aggressive upselling. Daniel Oppliger, a travel agency owner, encountered an agent at Phoenix who launched into a “10-minute spiel about insurance” despite his repeated refusals to purchase. “I said I would go elsewhere if she mentions insurance again,” he says. She did — and he left.

Bait-and-switch pricing. “Nothing is more irritating than the advertising done by car rental companies where they show the total price, only to find out it’s the total price before they add all the junk fees and taxes,” says Mark Beales, a retired mortgage banker from Mill Creek, Wash.

Unfair damage charges. Some car rental companies are using AI to scan every inch of your rental and bill you for even the smallest damage. “There is no set process to mutually determine what might be pre-rental damages,” says Sam Toles, a media consultant from Fort Lauderdale, Fla. “So I spend 20 minutes filming the car and photographing each portion of it in the event I return the vehicle and get dinged for a pre-existing ding.”

You don’t have to suffer all three to be furious at your car rental company.

How to know if you have car rental rage

One sign that you’re mad: You’re making car rental reservations you don’t intend to keep out of spite.

Car rental companies typically allow you to cancel reservations without a penalty. If you’re angry, that’s how you inflict damage on them. You make several reservations, which ties up their inventory and costs them money. Ouch!

In fact, if you find yourself arguing with a car rental employee after you return your car, it might be a sign of car rental rage. 

Sociologist Deborah Cohan, who has researched rage, notes that rental counter staff report “a noticeable increase in hostile exchanges” with customers arguing aggressively over fuel policies, cleaning fees, and mystery charges.

“There’s a lot of anger,” says Alen Baibekov, CEO of the car rental booking platform Economy Bookings. 

Car rental companies are hitting back

The anger goes both ways. Rental companies are fighting back with their own arsenal:

• Stricter cleaning standards. Baibekov explains that “cleaning standards were raised so sand, pet hair, glitter, or vaping smells can trigger deep clean fees.”

• Massive security deposits. Deposits are tiered by vehicle class at some locations, typically $300 to $1,000.

• More surveillance technology. Tila Lee, a design consultant from Calgary, found a tracking device in her rental recently. When she asked a representative, he was baffled. “Not that I was being tracked,” she says, “but that I had found out.”

If the car rental rage starts to cost companies money, experts predict they’ll invent new fees to make up for the lost revenue. It’s a pattern that repeats itself in the travel industry all the time. But you can stop it.

How to break the car rental rage cycle

Don’t get mad. It won’t help. Start by reading the contract — that’s the agreement between you and the car rental company.

“Your arrangement with the car rental company is a contractual one,” explains attorney Danny Karon, who represents victims in consumer fraud cases. “If the company didn’t keep its end up, you could have a breach-of-contract claim, whether individually or as a class action, if your rental agreement doesn’t contain a forced-arbitration clause.”

Knowing your rights in advance can help, too. 

For example, you’re not obligated to buy the car rental company’s expensive insurance, regardless of what a car rental salesperson claims. “There’s a common misconception that travelers have to purchase auto insurance offered by rental car providers or even use their personal auto insurance for rental cars,” says Daniel Durazo, director of external communications at Allianz Partners USA. (In fact, travel insurance companies like Allianz sell standalone policies that cover rental cars and are significantly cheaper than insurance sold by car rental companies.)

You can also rent from a company with a reputation for treating its customers well. Several of the drivers I interviewed for this story said they preferred renting through blue-chip rental companies like Avis or Enterprise. It’s a little bit more expensive, but they don’t play games — and they won’t tick you off.

Finally, take a deep breath. Plante, the psychologist, says if you schedule a little extra time, you can get a little breathing room. And that might reduce the stress that leads to anger. 

The road ahead for car rental rage

Car rental rage isn’t going anywhere until the industry addresses its biggest problem: treating customers like suckers instead of human beings. 

Louis Ducret, founder of the digital insurance platform Eprezto, says the best way forward is full transparency. 

“Show the customer up front exactly what they’ll pay, what they’ll get,” he says. “Remove the guesswork.”

Until that happens, we may be stuck in this cycle of mutual antagonism. Customers will keep fighting back with dirty returns, unused reservations and hostile reviews. Companies will respond with stricter policies and higher fees. And the rest of us will keep taking photos of rental cars like crime scene investigators.

After Richard Karwic left his cruise early to check on his elderly mother-in-law, he was shocked to receive a $300 fine from his cruise line. 

It turns out Karwic had inadvertently violated a set of federal laws meant to protect domestic shipping. He’d boarded a foreign-flagged vessel in Los Angeles and disembarked in San Francisco, where the ship was only scheduled to pick up passengers.

“What they did may have been legal,” says Karwic, a financial advisor from Wethersfield, Conn. “But it was certainly not moral, ethical—or fair.”

It only took a war in Iran for the government to agree. Last week, President Trump suspended the Jones Act amid the Iran conflict in an effort to ease energy supply disruptions. For the sake of people like Karwic, maybe rules like these need to stay suspended. (Related: UPS kept my $400 after damaging my computer — can it do that?)

Current law effectively prohibits foreign-flagged ships from transporting passengers between two different U.S. ports without first visiting a distant foreign port. The Jones Act, which the president suspended, applies to cargo. Another law, the Passenger Vessel Services, imposes similar restrictions to passengers. 

These limits are often inaccurately referred to as the Jones Act even though the laws are separate and distinct. But there’s no question about the consequences of violating them. I see the effects too often at our consumer advocacy organization, where readers face massive civil penalties for boarding at the wrong time.

What happens when you break the law?

Travelers who have to disembark a ship early because of a sudden illness have faced fines of nearly $1,000 per person. One couple was required to pay $1,882 just to leave a ship in Alaska.

Circumstances beyond your control are not enough to avoid Jones Act penalties. Passengers who miss their initial departure because of flight delays and try to catch up with their cruise at the next U.S. port have been denied boarding or charged $300 to $800 per person. In one instance, a family had to pay $1,600 for two people to board after missing their start because of bad weather.

Even death isn’t a good enough reason to avoid the Jones Act. One couple forced to disembark to attend a funeral after a family member passed away was charged $600.

Cruise lines can’t waive these penalties. The U.S. Customs and Border Protection fines the carrier, and then the cruise line bills its customers.

The laws don’t work

The Jones Act, originally passed in 1920 to bolster domestic shipbuilding, has failed its original mission. Today, fewer than 1 percent of the world’s ships are made in the United States. Instead of protecting a thriving industry, the law is nothing more than zombie regulation that limits travel flexibility and drives up costs for everyday citizens.

Similarly, there’s no evidence that the Passenger Vessel Services Act is making cruising better or more affordable for American travelers. Instead, it leads to tortured itineraries to foreign ports like Nassau or to cruises where passengers can’t even get off the ship in port.

The benefits of permanent suspension

A permanent end to these restrictions would transform the American travel experience. Travelers facing medical emergencies or family tragedies would no longer be forced to pay thousands in penalties or be held captive on ships because they need to change their arrival or departure port.

A suspension of Jones Act restrictions could also lead to a surge in domestic routes. Lifting the foreign port stop requirement would allow for more direct coastal cruises and short-haul travel between American cities, a market currently choked by 140 years of regulation.

Repealing the Jones Act—the one limiting cargo—would save U.S. consumers nearly $769 million per year on petroleum alone, according to a 2023 academic study. These savings would ripple through the economy, potentially lowering the fuel costs that drive up plane tickets and cruise fares.

But mostly, repealing these two outdated laws is the right thing to do. Americans’ ability to move between their own country’s ports should not be an indulgence granted only during international conflicts or natural disasters. And  cargo having to travel extra miles for no good reason just wastes time and energy.

These laws have outlived their usefulness. To protect travelers from bureaucratic traps and to modernize the American economy, this suspension must be extended to passengers—and it should stay in place forever.

As the Department of Homeland Security shutdown enters its seventh week, the administration has pivoted to a controversial fix: It’s deploying hundreds of Immigration and Customs Enforcement (ICE) agents to 14 major airports to plug the gaps left by unpaid TSA officers who are calling out or quitting. 

But as these new badges show up at the checkpoints, travelers are asking a fair question: Is this helping, or is it just making a bad situation worse?

If you’ve flown this week, you’ve seen it (and we predicted it in this week’s Consumer Alert). In Atlanta, the queue for security has wrapped around baggage claim, spilled out the doors, and looped along the curb. At JFK and LaGuardia, it’s the same story of frustration and missed flights. (Late yesterday, the president signed an order to begin paying TSA agents, but the details remain unclear and the lines are still long.)

What’s happening with the TSA?

The numbers behind this crisis are troubling. More than 480 TSA officers have resigned since the funding lapse began, and another 3,200 are currently calling out of work. With staffing at a skeleton crew level, wait times have hit 4.5 hours in some hubs and reached a peak of 6 hours in others.

The administration’s plan involves moving ICE agents into roles like guarding exit lanes and checking IDs to free up the remaining certified TSA screeners. The ICE agents aren’t trained to operate magnetometers or scan carry-on items, leading critics to call the move political theater. In fairness to ICE, some have been spotted checking the IDs of travelers at the airport.

Are ICE agents helping the situation?

Supporters of the move argue that any extra hands are better than none. Senator Mike Rounds (R.-S.D.) noted that the agents could “help relieve some of the pressure.” In some terminals, travelers have welcomed the presence of the agents, hoping they can manage the chaotic crowds and put out fires when lines stretch for hours. By taking over routine tasks like line management and crowd control, the agents theoretically allow the few remaining TSA screeners to focus on the actual screening.

Then again, maybe not

But the “help” from ICE may be more of a hindrance. Union officials point out that ICE agents lack the specific skill set to process people safely and quickly. Many travelers have reported that the presence of the agents hasn’t shortened wait times at all. 

There’s also the issue of trust. Advocacy groups warn that seeing armed immigration agents in a civilian space creates an atmosphere of fear and confusion.

What do you think? 

Is the presence of ICE agents making you feel safer, or is it just adding to the chaos?

• If you answered yes, I’d like to know if you’ve flown this week. Which airport did you use? What have you experienced? Were the ICE agents you saw helpful? How did they improve security?
• If you answered no, same question: Have you flown this week? How were the ICE agents unhelpful or disruptive? What is the solution, in your opinion?

My take: The TSA is a specialized security agency, not a general-purpose police force. Bringing in ICE agents who don’t have the training to run a scanner is a Band-Aid on a gaping wound. It’s a move designed for optics, but maybe not efficiency. We shouldn’t be swapping one type of agent for another; we should be paying the professionals who actually know how to screen airline passengers.

Your turn

What do you think of ICE agents at the airport? Our comments are open. And remember, this isn’t a political site, so please stay on topic. 

From the top floor of Dock Inn, a hotel made of shipping containers with a commanding view of the harbor and dockyards, you might see a ferry bound for Sweden sliding silently by in the distance. Beyond it, there are the dense forests of the Steilküste, a coastline with steep cliffs plunging into a cold sea. 

This is a part of Germany that is just as quietly taking the next steps in its green journey. Tourism sustains Warnemünde, with its busy port, its Baltic beaches, hotels and restaurants. But the entire region is also considering how sustainable it wants to be, and how sustainable it can be.

Rostock has cultivated an image as a green city by the sea. (Photo by Aren Elliott)

Rostock’s new green identity

Rostock, the largest city in the German state of Mecklenburg-Vorpommern, has cultivated an image as a green city by the sea. 

The city has set a long-term goal to cover all its energy needs from renewable resources, pledging to cut its CO2 emissions in 2030 by 40 percent compared to 2010 levels. Rostock also champions environmental management, with its city council integrating strict new environmental benchmarks into contracts and administrative decisions.

Rostock Port has worked with cruise lines to minimize emissions, including shore power initiatives using low-emission fuels like liquefied natural gas. And there’s the ambitious H2GE Rostock project, which is developing a dedicated import terminal for green ammonia (a key hydrogen carrier), and creating a new pipeline infrastructure for distribution across eastern Germany.

You can even see Rostock’s green ambitions in unexpected places, such as the Nikolaikirche (St. Nicholas Church). It was almost destroyed during World War II, but has been reimagined as a living space and events center. (Related: Amid soaring fuel prices, these cities are offering free rides.)

“They’re also trying to be sustainable,” says city guide Nicolai Pahne, pointing to the church roof. It’s covered with solar panels. 

Pahne says the green initiatives extend to recycling. Over 80 percent of the city’s waste is used for energy purposes through a combination of mechanical and biological treatment, fermentation and incineration, he says. 

Rostock isn’t the only city in Mecklenburg-Vorpommern with a sustainability focus.

A view from the top of Schwerin Castle. (Photo by Aren Elliott.)

Schwerin Castle becomes a World Heritage Site

In Schwerin, the nearby state capital, another type of sustainability is also underway. That’s where Schwerin Castle has become a massive tourism magnet and a monument to the region’s green agenda.

The castle is not only the active seat of the state parliament, it is also the city’s number-one tourist attraction. Built mostly in the 19th century, it consists of 38 separate elements, including the Grand Duke’s residence palace, manor houses, secular and sacred buildings, and ornamental lakes.

“The castle is the highlight of the city,” says Teresa Beck-Babajanyan, a guide. 

UNESCO agreed, and in 2024 named the building a World Heritage Site.

But Schwerin’s commitment to climate action is not just symbolic. It’s deeply ingrained in its governance. The city has set its sights high, with goals such as deriving 100 percent of its energy supply from renewable sources by 2035. The Schwerin public utility company, Stadtwerke Schwerin, has been generating heating for the city via its own biogas plant since 2007. A geothermal plant, currently under construction, will further boost the share of renewables in the district heating network by about 20 percent, according to officials.

The city also harnesses green electricity from ten solar plants. Schwerin began converting its entire bus fleet from diesel to electric motors in 2020, and its tram network has been running on green electricity for years.

But what truly stands out in Schwerin is the pervasive, everyday commitment to sustainability.

Beck-Babajanyan says if you don’t sort your trash correctly — separating paper and plastic, for example — your neighbor might do it for you. Visitors to Schwerin are often taken aback by that level of enthusiasm.

“But that’s how we are,” she adds. “We take it personally.”

You can feel that sentiment in the entire state of Mecklenburg-Vorpommern.

The altar of Schweriner Dom, the cathedral inside Schwerin Castle. (Photo by Aren Elliott)

A region embracing sustainable tourism

Beyond these two major cities, the entire region of Mecklenburg-Vorpommern is promoting sustainable tourism. Options range from vacation apartments to hotels and campsites that have agency certifications from Biohotels to GreenSign. These accommodations often use green electricity, recycled paper, and LED lighting, and many offer e-bike rental or electric car charging on-site. 

The Dock Inn in the coastal town of Warnemünde is an excellent example of sustainability. It’s a hostel famously constructed from shipping containers. Located right on the bustling port, it offers an immediate connection to Rostock’s maritime heritage. Repurposing industrial elements into comfortable living quarters is, of course, a time-honored tradition in Germany. But this kind of adaptation also points to a greener future. 

Building a hotel from decommissioned shipping containers often can cut the price of construction by up to 30 percent, not to mention saving natural resources that would otherwise be used. Containers are also sturdy, and their modular structure cuts labor time dramatically.

It’s a stay that immediately underscores how Rostock, a city defined by its seafaring history, is cleverly leveraging its past for contemporary, sustainable tourism.

Eastern Germany quietly charts a green course for a sustainable future

Mecklenburg-Vorpommern is plotting a course toward a sustainable future by blending environmental innovation with a deep respect for its cultural heritage. Cities like Rostock and Schwerin are proving that ambitious green goals are achievable through concerted public and private efforts. This commitment extends beyond policy, shaping urban development and daily life across the region.

This collective drive, from large-scale infrastructure projects and strategic urban planning to daily personal habits and cultural preservation, should position Mecklenburg-Vorpommern as a leading example in sustainable development. 

Truth is, if you go all-in on green tourism, you drive away some of the tourists — and a cruise ship or two. If you don’t do anything, you’re complicit in the destruction of the environment.So when it comes to green tourism, this part of Mecklenburg-Vorpommern is steering the ship carefully and quietly toward sustainability. If you pay close attention, you’ll notice it.