September 24th
5:38 pm London time, 11:38 am Winnipeg time
Sitting with a Stella’s in Heathrow airport, waiting for my flight to Budapest. The Stella here tastes way better, interestingly. I’m about to eat some kind of local meat pie. So how was my day?
*flash back*
2:45 pm London time, 8:45am Winnipeg time
I completely slept through the fllight. Despite the airline serving what appeared to be an eraser sandwich for breakfast (a British delicacy?) all went well. I arrived and had myself an airport shower (it involves WetNaps, a facecloth and a toothbrush/paste). I felt rested, refreshed, and unintimidated by big, scary Heathrow airport.
I completely slept through the fllight. Despite the airline serving what appeared to be an eraser sandwich for breakfast (a British delicacy?) all went well. I arrived and had myself an airport shower (it involves WetNaps, a facecloth and a toothbrush/paste). I felt rested, refreshed, and unintimidated by big, scary Heathrow airport.
I got my bags, and exited Heathrow 4 for Heathrow 5. A very helpful airline worker suggested I take the 490 bus, and even helped me and my ridiculously heavy luggage on board. So nice! It was a lovely ride, picturesque, with quaint, typically British buildings and fields…perfect. But wait--is that…a farm? British people are weird, so I’ll accept it. Oh, hey, a school! Seems awfully close to the airport, but okay. Hey, that guy smoking looks awfully grouchy. Guess his business isn’t doing to well today. It’s probably hard around the airport to sell…washing machines?
What. The. Fuck.
3:45 pm London Time, 8:45 am Winnipeg time
So now I’m standing across the street from where the 490 bus left me luggage-laden and cursing that idiot airline worker in the middle of…
So now I’m standing across the street from where the 490 bus left me luggage-laden and cursing that idiot airline worker in the middle of…
I don’t know where I am, exactly, but if Little Bo Peep comes along looking for her sheep, I’m going to ask her to help me find terminal 5 as well.
Luckily, It is no more than a few minutes before a 490: Heathrow 5 comes along, and patiently waits while I load my five--yes, five--moronically heavy bags onto the public bus. Thank God it’s free. And at least people seem to find the sight of me grunting and apologising and wincing in pain to be hilarious enough to take the edge off how annoyed they must be by my taking up so much time and space on what otherwise seems to be a remarkably efficient public transport system.
Luckily, It is no more than a few minutes before a 490: Heathrow 5 comes along, and patiently waits while I load my five--yes, five--moronically heavy bags onto the public bus. Thank God it’s free. And at least people seem to find the sight of me grunting and apologising and wincing in pain to be hilarious enough to take the edge off how annoyed they must be by my taking up so much time and space on what otherwise seems to be a remarkably efficient public transport system.
4:55 pm London Time, 9:55 am Winnipeg Time
My arms are killing me. As I check my bags for the last time before Moscow, I secretly hope that they get lost. I never want to see nor carry them again, at this point.
My arms are killing me. As I check my bags for the last time before Moscow, I secretly hope that they get lost. I never want to see nor carry them again, at this point.
5:15pm London Time, 10:15 am Winnipeg Time
I go through yet another metal detector, and am forced to remove my boots again. As she is patting me down (a little excessively in the boob-area, I might add) the security woman is joking around with me.
“So are you headed home?” she asks.
I almost say no, before I realise that, yes. I’m headed to my new home.
“I guess, sort of,” I manage.
She nods.
“You can always tell who’s heading for home,” she says.
A tiring day. Time for a beer and some kind of local food, I think…
I go through yet another metal detector, and am forced to remove my boots again. As she is patting me down (a little excessively in the boob-area, I might add) the security woman is joking around with me.
“So are you headed home?” she asks.
I almost say no, before I realise that, yes. I’m headed to my new home.
“I guess, sort of,” I manage.
She nods.
“You can always tell who’s heading for home,” she says.
A tiring day. Time for a beer and some kind of local food, I think…
That catches you up to date on phase 2.
The Rice Krispies Squares Total stands at 5.
TO BE CONTINUED…
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