2.54pm - Delayed Reactions
Trip Start Nov 03, 2009
20Trip End Dec 02, 2009
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As if I wasn't having enough trouble coming to terms with the end of my trip of a lifetime, it transpires that I have inadvertently booked flights home with Comedy Air. First there was the delay in Ushuaia – not on anyone else’s planes, just mine (although admittedly a few others from my trip were on my plane too, including lovely Irish Jo). That was something in the region of an hour – not too bad, all things considered. And since I was staying another night in Buenos Aires, not too much of an issue.
I arrived back in BA a bit knackered from all the fannying about though, and so decided to bail on Justin, who I had made tentative plans to meet up with (his flight didn’t get in til late, however). Instead, I wrote the previous entry, checked Facebook for the first time in a month, and went to bed. Next morning I bumped into a few folks from the trip who unexpectedly turned out to be in my hotel, and bid them farewell for their journey on the altogether more reliable British Airways flight that left in the morning. I had to bumble around for a few more hours, though, because my flight wasn’t due til 17.10. Or at least, it was supposed to be 17.10 – when I arrived at the airport, the nice man from TAM nervously informed me that my flight had been delayed. That was okay, I said nicely. He then pointed out that the delay might result in me missing my connecting flight from São Paulo to Heathrow. My face fell, as this bit hadn’t quite computed yet. He sent me off with my boarding passes for both legs of the trip, but assured me if it all went wrong, they would put me up for the night in São Paulo (those of you astute enough to pay attention to where this is being written may have already intuited the end of this story). I beetled around on the airport wifi for a few hours waiting for my flight to be called, watching the new boarding time come and go with nary a plane in sight. Eventually, three hours after we were due to board, we were finally presented with a plane and told to get on it. We then sat on the runway for a further two hours. For no particular reason. We weren’t waiting for more passengers, because the plane moved a little way away from the skyway after the first ten or fifteen minutes, so the doors were definitely sealed. All the same: two hours of sitting. By this point I was getting increasingly tetchy, sleepy, and emotional – I’ve been up and down ever since we got off the stupid ship because I miss everyone there so much, and lack of sleep and action was not what I really needed.
Eventually we landed in SP at a little before 4am. I was exhausted, which was not assisted by the language barrier and the fact that I was the only one who didn’t have a hotel voucher waiting for me, so I had to follow a TAM bloke around the airport until he found my name on the right list and printed one for me. Just after 5am I finally got to bed. They’d actually started serving breakfast in the bloody restaurant already, but I couldn’t face it – it was all I could do to get undressed before I collapsed. Bloody travelling – I’ve had early mornings and late nights for the past three weeks but was able to keep going on adrenaline and lust, and then as soon as I just have to hang around a bunch of small rooms waiting for the time to come where I am permitted to move onto the next small room, I lose all energy and focus. The sooner we invent a teleporter the better!
I’ve been put on the same flight tonight, anyway, and there’s a free bus between the hotel and the airport, which is good. So I’ve got a few more hours to kill here, then I can trundle over to the airport and commence more sitting in small rooms. Sooner or later the small room will become my living room though, and I can sit in it snuggling the kitties and glugging wine with Rhysie. And quite frankly, I cannae wait. This has been the trip of a lifetime. And now it’s time to go home and tell people about it.