I Tried 'Skiplagging' to Save Money on Flights and It Was a Nightmare

What are you willing to do to save a buck when you travel? Some might rough it up in a hostel, others might stuff their outfits in a carry-on or break an airline policy or two.

I did the latter and tried "hidden city ticketing" via Skiplagged.

Hidden city ticketing is a travel hack that involves purchasing a flight with a layover, but never get on the second leg and stay in the layover city instead.

This travel "hack" is a gray area. It's not illegal, but it is against many airlines' Terms and Conditions — you know, that box you check when you legally agree to abide by policies you didn't read.

Being in-between jobs made me conscious of my spending, so I was hunting for a good deal. I managed to find reasonably-priced accommodation, but one-way flights from LAX to NYC were around $400, which was a lot for me.

That's when I saw an ad for Skiplagged, which championed hidden-city ticketing. In my case, the trip was from Los Angeles to New York City to Buffalo. I would be hopping off in NYC and going along my merry way — or so I thought.

I booked the flight and really thought I was a genius. I told my mom, my husband, and my best friend Becky that I found a great deal. $146 for a cross-country flight! Who could beat it?

This is because the bag would go to the final destination (in my instance, Buffalo). I stuffed my rolling carry-on bag with all the warm clothes and necessities I needed to visit the east coast in February. It wasn't easy, but I made it work.

Seconds after arriving at LAX, my smug travel-hacking persona was taken over by an anxious mess. What if this doesn't work? What if they make me gate-check my bag?

If you've ever scored a really cheap plane ticket, it's more than likely that you're sitting at the back of the plane and you're in the absolute worst boarding group you could ever imagine. While those instances are not the end of the world, it usually means one thing: the overhead bins are full and you're forced to gate-check your bag.

After making it through security, I noticed my boarding group number — 5 — and nervously laughed to myself. Who knew they went that low?

I sat at the gate for 40 minutes and racked my brain trying to figure out what to do if they asked me to check my bag. The gate attendants warned us about a full flight over the speaker, letting us know that we would likely be asked to check our carry-ons.

Boarding Group 5 was finally called and I slowly walked up to the gate. Before she even looked at me, the attendant had her hand out to collect my bag. I scanned my pass while she wrapped a tag around the handle.

I nervously asked if I could pick up my bag in New York. "I can't gate-check it," she said before politely motioning for the next guest to approach. And that was the end of the conversation.

I realized I had two options: follow my bag to Buffalo and come back to NYC, losing a day or so of travel, or abandon my bag and see what I can do to get it back.

Neither of those options were how I wanted to spend my first couple of days in New York City.

As the flight landed, I had an idea — and it wasn't my proudest moment. I pulled out my makeup compact and rubbed my eyes, one by one, smudging my mascara. I wiped some black residue off my eyelid and dabbed it underneath my eye. I looked at my reflection and saw my eyes were red and I looked like hell. Good.

As I exited the plane, I gave my best sick-girl look to a gate attendant, and said, "I'm supposed to go to Buffalo but I just came down with something on the flight and I feel really sick. Is it possible to get my bag?"

The kind woman empathized but didn't know how to help me. She told me that I should really see a doctor, though, then sent me to another department at the airport. But they also didn't help me and told me to call the customer-service line.

Either way, my bag was already on the plane to Buffalo.

I found myself caught in this cycle of calling the customer-service line, being told that they would put my bag on a plane to New York City and that I could either have it delivered or go pick it up, only to be ghosted hours later and be told my bag never made it on that plane.

I wanted to feel bad for myself, but it just felt like karma. I thought that this is what I got for lying and breaking the rules.

In my extensive research on how to get my bag back, I found out that some airlines had banned people who were caught trying to do exactly what I did.

Multiple airlines, including the one I used, have since attempted to sue Skiplagged and accused the company of encouraging these practices. The last thing I need as a broke traveler is to be blacklisted by one of the largest US airlines.

I finally got my bag delivered to my Airbnb, but not without paying $60 in delivery fees.

Hidden city ticketing is positioned in the travel community as a "travel hack," but I'll tell anyone who asks that it's rarely worth the hassle. Sure, it can save you money — it saved me around $200 — but there was an added cost I never accounted for: my time and peace of mind.

I spent two days in New York City on the phone and my computer, agonizing over whether I would get my luggage back. Those two days could have been spent enjoying a pretzel in Central Park, seeing "The Book of Mormon," or eating delicious pizza — all of which would have been more enjoyable than waiting on hold with an airline.

There are better ways to save a buck in travel. I'll happily pay $200 if that means I don't have to wash my undergarments in a sink to rewear them.

Jesse Collier is the creator of The Road Jess Traveled and helps people save, plan, and book their dream vacations.

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