Ignorant Brit here – could I request clarification (anything to do with Hershey confectionery)?
Yes, the Hershey chocolate company runs a major theme park in southern Pennsylvania that is within a day-trip distance of Washington, DC.
Thanks. Tangentially re Hershey and rail passenger transport: Cuba has what was, pre-revolution, the Hershey Cuban Railway, running from Havana, parallel to the coast to Matanzas: was inaugurated by the Hershey company to transport sugar to the port of Havana, but they provided passenger-carrying facilities as well. The line is now run by the state railways, but I gather is still often colloquially called by the locals, the “Hershey Railway”. It’s an electric “interurban” type line of the kind which was once common in the USA, but now virtually extinct there.
At least they got new wigs and a talking Al Gore doll out of it.
I had the experience of when I was in the Coast Guard in 1981, I received orders to LORAN Station Marcus Island (600 miles east of Iwo Jima). Marcus was supplied by a once a week C-130 flight from Yokota Air Base in Japan. But whoever did the flight arrangements booked me on a commercial flight from San Francisco to Guam instead of Japan (Narita Airport). Which I found out about when I asked the baggage clerk what time we we’re landing in Japan at 10 PM on a Sunday.
I don’t know why someone in 2nd District booked me on a flight to Guam instead of Japan. Two possible reasons: Guam is closer to Marcus Island than Yokota is (Yokota was more centrally located for the 9970 NW Pacific LORAN chain so they ran things from there). Also the USCG command in Guam was MARSEC…Mariana Section.
Once, an Australian colleague and I were going on travel to Cocoa Beach, FL. The nearest airport was Melbourne, FL. He made the plane reservations for us.
He came to my office and stated, “We’re all booked for Melbourne,” in his strong Australian accent. I then asked, “Australia, or Florida?” 
Is your name not Michael, then?
Thanks! I was just sitting here wondering what I’d been on about. LOL!
I just imagine poor old Robert Scott looking out his tent at the antarctic blizzard and thinking 'I swear I told the travel agent ‘South Poland looks nice at this time of year’.
There is an (apocryphal?) story about a young man who booked a flight to Auckland, New Zealand, thinking he was going to Oakland, California.
Not St. Louis?
Yes, really.
I can’t believe people think this so rare. Yes, if you are carefully booking it yourself you’ll probably get it right. But airlines fuck shit up all the time.
Once, my flight from Manchester, NH to Detroit was cancelled due to fog. Scores (hundreds?) of people were bussed to Boston Logan. The Northwest counter was overwhelmed with people trying to get new flights.
The moron ticket girl put me on a flight to DFW instead of DTW. So I was booked to Dallas instead of Detroit. I easily could have boarded. Hell, I didn’t notice the error on the ticket, I noticed it at the gate.
I always believe these stories.
I went to college at Washington State University. English 101 was a required course for everyone. My class was taught by a grad student who came from back east somewhere (NYC, I think) who apparently took the position thinking it’d be in Seattle. WSU is in Pullman, on the far side of the state and very rural. He was unhappy with the whole situation and was sort of taking it out on us.
Man, people are dumb. I’m planning my college visits much better. First I’m going to California University, how much to check a surf board? I also want to check out Miami, so I’ll brush up on my Cuban slang.
There are apocryphal stories of people taking Amtrak to Las Vegas, New Mexico, thinking they were booked for Las Vegas, Nevada. 
LVS is Amtrak’s code for the Greyhound station in LV, Nevada – there’s no train to LV, NV, only buses – while LSV is the train station in LV, NM, so they’re only a typo apart. Add in that people presume there must be train service to a destination as big as LV, NV, and it’s a totally plausible mistake.
I’m thinking of going back to school, and not only that, I will choose one of the finest institutions in the United States with a name that rings a bell in the World of Academia:
A friend of mine is quite a college football fan, and loves to take road trips to games. He once had 2 tickets to a game in Birmingham, Alabama, and figured he’d need to book a hotel room for when he arrived. So, he went online and located a Holiday Inn in Birmingham and booked his room through the internet.
Fortunately, he went back to check on the address before leaving town. He had made reservations for a hotel in England, which would have made the car ride a tad bit difficult, to say nothing of being late for the game.
I take some pride in being quite an experienced and skilled traveller, having visited around forty countries and lived/worked in six. I haven’t booked a ‘package’ holiday since 2004, instead booking the flights early (to take advantage of cheaper flights) and booking the hotel later, to take advantage of recent reviews on websites like Trip Adviser et al 
After an emotional holiday in Europe, travelling through Germany, Poland, Slovakia, Austria and The Czech Republic by plane, train, bus, boat and automobile with ne’er a glitch, I returned to the UK for a final bus ride - to visit family on the east coast of the UK. Victoria Bus Station, in London (my home town) is busy and compact, but I found my way to the correct departure gate with several minutes to spare, as per usual. I showed the driver my ticket and proffered my luggage for him to place in the appropriate compartment. As I’d, as usual, only given little in the way of flexibility I needed to purchase some refreshments for the six-hour journey (although there is a stop, halfway). The driver said he was leaving in five minutes but I could buy some water at a nearby counter and easily return in time.
I quickly made my purchase and returned to the bus, announcing to the other boardees that I had already shown my ticket and therefore could immediately board. I found a seat, took out my book, and we left on time.
After a while, maybe an hour, I looked up and found the environment was a little different to what I’d expected. We were on a motorway, surrounded by flat green fields and farmland, but it seemed slightly different to what I was expecting. I put it down to tiredness and continued reading my book. The next time I looked up I saw a sign which announced ‘Welcome to Wales’. I asked the passenger next to me where we were headed and he responded, with a questioning tone, that our destination was “Swansea”.
“But, my luggage is going to Skegness!?”
“I think you’d better talk to the driver.”
I walked up to the front of the coach, slowly realising on the way that I’d boarded the wrong vehicle and that I was to end up on the west coast of the UK, rather than the east. After the drivers had stopped laughing they radioed their head office, and told me I could return to London on that night’s coach, leaving at 11:30PM, for free.
Swansea isn’t London or even Skegness, and shuts down around 5. I found one place which was open - the Opera House - and went in, hoping I could find a seat to wait on. The bar downstairs would be open until that night’s performance had finished. I told the staff of my predicament and, after their laughter had subsided, they showed me to a seat where the Wi-Fi was strongest, and brought me complimentary coffee and soft drinks. At 11 one of the staff walked me to the bus stop, so I wouldn’t miss my connection.
The stop had several other people waiting, all with luggage and anticipating their coming holidays. My presence wasn’t entirely unexpected, as the bus driver giggled “Oh, YOU’RE the one!” and asked where I wanted to get off. I thought for a second - Victoria station at 4AM will be horrible, which only leaves Gatwick and Heathrow airports. I decided Heathrow, being much bigger, would give me a greater opportunity to relax for the 6/7 hours before boarding the correct bus, 24 hours late.
Heathrow is bigger, but it also has no night arrivals or departures. After wandering around all five terminals in a semi-comatose state I found the one cafe still open. After around six hours there I boarded a coach to Victoria station, arriving around 2 hours before my departure, and headed for the information office. By this time I was much more dishevelled in appearance and much shorter in humour. The staff were very apologetic, explaining that the Swansea and Skegness buses normally have twenty departure lounges between them but there had been some problems the day before. Also my luggage, which had ended up in Newcastle, would be taken to Skegness and dropped off; a member of my family had already been contacted and arrangements had been made.
I finally got on the correct bus and was met, with howls of laughter, by my family who also had my luggage.
The End.