The Brown Patch
Trip Start
May 26, 2007
1
89
Trip End
Ongoing
London,
United Kingdom
Wednesday, November 28, 2007
We arrive to the airport full of pride at the list of acheivements we managed to attain whilst on this trip. This included, but is not limited to, the following:-
- making the trip without ever actually having a handle on the language
- spending 6 months over here without once buying a roll of toilet paper
- speding a total of 480 hours on buses and not once doing a bus poo
- Actually leaving this place with funds remaining
- surviving
We walk inside and the first thing we see is a big sign saying flight 6464 is delayed. To much dismay we check our tickets to find that yes, the flight is ours. oh well we say, at least our reservations aren't cancelled.
"Sorry Sir, but your reservations have been cancelled". This came as a bit of a kick in the teeth. Especially considering we called the airlines a few days prior to the flight to confirm there were no problems and even received confirmation numbers for our time. On asking for an explanaition we find that we booked through Lan, but are flying Iberia. Lan thinks we're ready to go, while iberia thinks we are cancelled. And the whole time we are being told by both companies that the flight is full and there is nothing either of them can do but talk to the other company about it. So as the finger pointing and blame game continued my blood pressure began to rise to the point my eyes were getting bloodshot. We'd talk to someone who couldn't help us and then be directed to someone else who couldn't help us, and then be directed to someone else before being redirected back to the first person who couldn't help us. I was about to crack, but managed to keep a grip on the temper. Although i still demanded that the fat airline assistant waddle over to the other airline and sort it out herself and come retrieve me when i was rebooked on the plane. This might not seem to drastic an action of an angry man but a demand from me is pretty rare. Sometimes I persuade, other times I insist, and I think once I may have stipulated, but demand? Never. I will also take the time here to note that the airline lady wasn't fat at all, she was mid sized at most, its just that my rage is managing to seeth into my writing.
Anyway, we wait around for awhile until eventually old fatty toddles back and tells us that we are now booked onto the flight.
"So we're booked on the flight we were originally booked on?"
"Yes, that's correct sir."
"The same flight that you told me was completely booked out about 20 minutes ago"
"It would appear that way, Sir"
"how surprising..."
We start for the plane but are stopped and asked to pay the airport tax. We give the guy a 20 expecting change and he tells us its $40 each! Immediately my shock and frustration became emanant as the red shots of blood re-entered eyes and i ask what the hell i'm paying for with this $40 fee, and ya know what? Not one person could tell me. "It's just the fee" they would say. "But you don't pay fees unless you're getting a service in return. What service am i getting?" i would respond. "It's just the fee" they's repeat.
So 40 bucks later we get to customs and we get stopped so the guy can manually search through our stuff. Normally i wouldn't care but this is the 100th time i've been stopped by police to have my bags searched. I was just about to start my spiel that i don't carry drugs around and he isn't getting a bribe from me and that we're in a hurry and that he has a big nose, but all of a sudden he pulls a fork out of our bag and stares at us with raised eyebrows... Whoops.
Eventually we get on the plane and of course they seated us about 10 rows apart. The movies were crap, the seats were uncomfortable and the staff were so rude I actually had to resort to stealing wine from the back because no one would serve it to me.
We touch down and now only have about 25 mins to get to our next plane, which was a coincidentally inconveniant number considering the fact that the sign which directs us to the gate we depart from tells us it'll take 26 minutes to reach the gate. It was also inconveniant considering Linz insisted I wait around for him while he does a poo, which ended up eating away another valuable 10 minutes. The inconveniance grew as well after we had to stop and run back to search for the ticket that Linz managed to drop somewhere along the line.
So we arrive to our gate 20 minutes after the plane was meant to leave and breath a sigh of relief to see it still standing there. Although we payed the price through the amount of evil eyes burning holes through me from the passengers waiting on board. Again we were seated about 10 rows apart, but this time there must have been at least 50 spare seats, so we knew for sure old mate fatty boomstix booked us apart on purpose.
We try to relax and calm our panting after all the running through the airport. I start feeling good that we made the plane and we'll be touching down in london until the intercom in the plane starts to speak. "Sorry about the delays. we are currently looking for the luggage of 2 of the passengers aboard this aircraft and will be taking off soon". Well i'll give you one bloody guess who the 2 unlucky passengers are. Then we just take off with out any suggestion that maybe the luggage was found so i spend the entire trip stressing that i'm gonna be trapped in london wearing a singlet and thin jacket, pants and a pair of thongs and have nothing else to wear and no credit card to buy something. My stride toward breaking point was further increased when they started serving lunch cause i was soooooo hungry and started building myself up for a feed before crashing back down after realising i had to pay for it. An international flight with no free food! unheard of. Especially since it was a connecting flight which gave us no no time to get out any euros or pounds or get our own food. But i soon solved this problem by taking small nibbles out of my own arm.
It was at about this point when i remember realising that i was about to die. Everything imaginable has gone wrong. EVERYTHING. And you know what else falls under the category of everything... plane crashes. I realise that all this happened in a bizarre attempt by fate to warn me of my inevitable doom. Every bit of trouble, each mishap, a clue to alert me to the fact that if i step onto this plane my adventures would be ending one way or another. I should have been able to piece the clues together but alas i wasn't quick enough. The cancellation. The fork. It was all so obvious... but I really should have been tipped off by the fact that the person sitting next to me was wearing a black robe and holding a scythe.
Surely enough we touch down in london (it certainly was too cold to be hell), find that our packs arrived too, get straight through customs without all the searching bullshit and then spend our entire savings in the attempt to afford a train ticket.
So thats it for adventure number one I suppose. I'll be sure to let you know when adventure number 2 starts.
