My toxic relationship with the TD travel credit card ecosystem

My toxic relationship with the TD travel credit card ecosystem

It was 4:15 PM at Chicago O’Hare, December 2019, and I was staring at a gate agent who looked like she wanted to evaporate. My flight to Toronto didn’t exist. Well, the flight existed—the physical plane was sitting right there behind the glass—but my seat didn’t. I had booked it through the TD rewards portal, and somewhere between the bank’s server and the airline’s database, my reservation had been swallowed by the void. I stood there, clutching a lukewarm $9 airport pretzel, realizing that my ‘free’ flight was currently costing me a night at a Fairfield Inn and a lot of dignity. I felt like a complete idiot.

That is the reality of the travel credit card td experience. It is a mix of genuine financial wins and moments of absolute, soul-crushing bureaucratic frustration. I’ve used the TD First Class Travel Visa Infinite for nearly four years now, and I have some thoughts that you won’t find in a glossy comparison chart on a banking blog. Most of those people are just trying to get you to click an affiliate link. I’m just trying to vent because I just paid my annual fee again and I’m still processing the trauma of that O’Hare trip.

The math that actually matters (if you’re lazy like me)

I know people who spend their Sunday nights building spreadsheets to track ‘cent per point’ (CPP) valuations. I think those people are—well, I’ll be blunt—they’re losers. If you are spending ten hours a month to save an extra $40 on a flight to Cancun, your hourly rate is pathetic. What I mean is—actually, let me put it differently. The value of a credit card isn’t in the theoretical maximum; it’s in what you actually end up using without wanting to pull your hair out.

I tracked my spending for 14 months on the TD First Class card. Here is what happened:

  • I spent roughly $32,000 on the card in a year.
  • Because of the 8x points on travel (booked through their portal) and 6x on groceries/dining, I ended up with about 145,000 points.
  • In real-world money, when redeemed for travel, that’s about $725.
  • Subtract the $139 annual fee, and I’m up $586.

That’s it. That’s the whole trick. It’s not a life-changing amount of money. It’s a free flight to see my parents and maybe a nice dinner. But it’s consistent. I don’t have to think about ‘transfer partners’ or ‘blackout dates’ as much as I would with a more complex card. It’s the Honda Civic of credit cards. It’s not sexy, the interface looks like it was designed in 2004, but it usually gets you where you’re going.

Redeeming points for anything other than travel is a scam. If you use your TD points to buy a toaster or a gift card, you are basically handing the bank a donation. Don’t do it.

Expedia for TD is a DMV office run by ghosts

A woman sits pensively on a bench outside after a breakup, while a man walks away.

I might be wrong about this, but I am convinced that the ‘Expedia for TD’ portal is intentionally designed to make you give up. This is my biggest gripe. To get the maximum value (the 8 points per dollar), you have to book through their specific portal.

The search filters are garbage. The pricing is sometimes $20 higher than the regular Expedia site for no apparent reason. And if you ever need to change a flight? God help you. You end up in this weird purgatory where TD says it’s Expedia’s problem, and Expedia says it’s a ‘bank-issued ticket’ so they can’t touch it. I once spent three hours on hold while sitting in a Starbucks in Vancouver just trying to move a flight by one day. It was the most expensive ‘free’ change of my life in terms of blood pressure points. I know people will disagree and say they’ve never had an issue, but those people are probably just lucky or they don’t travel enough to see the cracks in the system.

Pure garbage.

Why I refuse to switch to the Amex Cobalt

Everyone and their mother is obsessed with the American Express Cobalt right now. They talk about the 5x points on food like it’s a religious experience. I refuse to get one. Why? Because I hate the feeling of being rejected at a cash register. I live in a city where half the local spots I love—the little hole-in-the-wall pho places and the independent grocers—don’t take Amex because the merchant fees are too high. There is nothing more embarrassing than pulling out a ‘premium’ card and having a teenager tell you they only take Visa or Debit.

I’m irrationally loyal to the TD Visa because it works everywhere. I’ve used it in a rural gas station in the middle of Iceland and a street food stall in Taiwan. It’s reliable. I’ll take a slightly lower earn rate if it means I never have to do the ‘Amex shuffle’ at the checkout ever again. Also, I honestly just hate the color of the Cobalt card. It looks like a cheap plastic toy. There, I said it. It’s an ugly card.

The ‘Insurance’ is a myth until it isn’t

Most people ignore the insurance packet that comes in the mail. I did too, until I got food poisoning in Mexico. I’m talking the ‘I think I might actually see the light’ kind of food poisoning. The TD Visa Infinite has pretty decent medical coverage, but the paperwork is a nightmare. I had to provide receipts for everything—including the taxi to the clinic.

I eventually got my $400 back, but it took five months and three different phone calls where I had to explain my symptoms to a stranger in a call center. It felt invasive and annoying. But, they paid. Most ‘fintech’ cards like Neo or some of the lower-tier Scotiabank cards have insurance that is basically just a suggestion. TD’s insurance is real, even if it’s hidden behind a wall of 1990s-style faxing requirements. I tested this twice over three years—once for a delayed bag and once for the Mexican hospital—and they eventually paid out 100% of the claims. That’s a data point you can’t ignore.

Is it actually worth it?

Look, if you want to be a ‘travel hacker’ and fly first class to Tokyo for $12, this isn’t your card. This card is for the person who has a 9-to-5, shops at Loblaws, and wants their credit card to basically pay for one family vacation a year without having to think too hard. It’s boring. It’s corporate. The app is clunky as hell and sometimes the portal glitches and leaves you stranded in Chicago.

But despite all the times I’ve cursed TD’s name, I haven’t canceled the card. I think it’s because I’m lazy, but also because the alternatives all feel like they’re trying too hard. I don’t want a ‘lifestyle brand.’ I want a bank that has a physical building I can walk into and yell at someone if things go really wrong. Even if I never actually do it.

I still wonder if I’m just leaving money on the table by not switching to a more ‘optimized’ setup. Am I just a sucker for the convenience of having my credit card and my chequing account in the same app? Maybe.

Stick with the TD First Class if you value your time more than your points. Just book your flights through the airline directly if the price is even remotely close. Trust me on that one.