Connections, layovers, delays, and me…

This is my first time flying KLM. I'm out of luck.
Go figure why!

At first, I chose this airline because, even though it was about 200 euros more expensive than the others, it cut the travel time between Brussels and Lima in half. What would otherwise have taken between 22 and 34 hours with at least two layovers was reduced to just one layover and a 16-hour flight.

Well, in the end, with my luck… (my brother would say we’re cursed…)

I arrived at Zaventem Airport two and a half hours early, but the boarding gate wasn’t open until late. By the time our flight was scheduled to depart, people were just getting off the plane. Already stressed out, I tried to ask the flight attendants what I should do. The purser replied curtly that as soon as I got to Amsterdam, I should go out, check the schedules, and catch the next flight….

No way! Seriously?!

I tried to see if they could at least let them know to wait a little while, just in case. They brushed me off immediately.
(I love customer service… or am I just going about this the wrong way?… In the end, it’s the same hassle everywhere…)
I’m waiting to board, but before I settle in (I’d booked a seat closest to the exit, on my friend’s advice—which also cost me extra), I try to talk to another flight attendant who might be able to check.  
A flight lasting less than an hour turns into a major source of stress. Before takeoff, I check where the boarding gate is and see on the airport’s website that I have to walk all the way across the airport!
During the flight, that same flight attendant comes back to a few of us to say that it’s going to be tricky but that it’s doable.
But we’re going to have to run.
We landed safely, and I logged onto the airport’s website to check the time. And I saw that boarding was almost over. I went for broke and ran like never before, with my 6-kg travel bag, from Gate B to Gate F. I thought my heart was going to give out. It took 5–7 minutes, running along the moving walkways and dodging everyone in my path. 
I arrived at the infamous Gate F6, completely out of breath. A woman was crying in front of it; the flight attendants told me it was too late, and I couldn’t hold my tongue. “It’s the same airline, and you can’t even manage to handle connections properly—now I’m going to miss my domestic flight too.” Three people arrived as the minutes ticked by. The gate was sealed off. Just like my fate, I might have said.

When this happens, you have to go back to a transfer counter and explain the situation. The other three were apparently Peruvian; they were told via the self-service kiosk that they wouldn’t be able to get other seats for the next 24 hours. 
I disagreed and went to the counter myself. I explained as best I could (still in English) that I’d missed my flight, etc., but that I couldn’t wait for the next day’s flight because my friend was traveling from Arequipa to Lima to pick me up and she already had return flights to Arequipa scheduled for 4 a.m. local time.

Finally, she manages to find me a flight with a layover in Madrid, but I’ll arrive in Lima at 6 a.m. I try to contact my friend to let her know. She spends the whole day at the Lima airport trying to get our tickets canceled, but it’s impossible. So not only am I missing my domestic flight, but the price would triple if I took another one later. She’s still looking… Meanwhile, I’m up above the clouds… I have 30 minutes left, plus the 10-minute delay on the flight to Madrid… 

My friend tells me it’s impossible to cancel this flight, and she’s looking for another one. In the end, she booked a round-trip ticket for nothing. And for me, this domestic flight will cost me close to 165 euros—40 for the first one and 125 for the second… That really hurts.