…when I decided to fly through London Gatwick or was it Heathrow with no prior thought of how I would get there with 2 check in luggages, 1 cabin luggage and a laptop bag, with little hassle.
I lived in Loughborough back in those days and was not very experienced in the art of flying comfortably. I thought London was the best and only place to fly from and though it was over 3 hours from my zone, my mind hadn’t fully grasped the concept that Birmingham or even Manchester airport were probably better options, in terms of convenience and easy access.
Well, to London I went. No sense to even take the National Express coaches that went from nearby Leicester straight to the airport. In all my wisdom, or shall we say lack of, I decided to stop over for the night at my uncle’s. I obviously definitely thought that was a clever idea.
My drama began the next morning at ungodly o’clock when I had to make my way to the airport. Remember the number of items I had to convey on myself? It was all good until I had to manoeuvre my way up those stairs at the train stations. Thankfully, a nice guy helped me up with one of them.
Then on to the underground stations. If you have traveled through the Underground (subway) in London, you must know how narrow those escalators are. Be more than a size 12, and you’d have to stand sideways for people to get past you.
At this point, I was already very flustered and possibly frustrated with my lack of money to have afforded a taxi to take me direct to the airport from my uncle’s house.
I stood at the top of the escalators trying to calculate how I’d make my way down with those 4 pieces of travel luggage. Did I say it was morning? Yes, morning, read, rush hour. People must have been thinking who’s this lunatic standing here, blocking the flow of human traffic.
Well, I’m certainly no lunatic. I was doing some calculations. So I decided to leave one of my suitcases at the top and take the other 3 down. At this point I thought, if they want to take it and destroy it because it’s an “unattended item”, they can knock themselves out! But then I recalculated and thought, na me e go finally pain last last if them carry my load go destroy.
So I got on the escalators, and did the unpardonable sin; I had to block the overtaking left lane with one of the suitcases to make my way down without donating my belongings to the imaginary London Underground charity!!
Then one commuter man had the effrontry to challenge my brilliant decision, asking me to excuse him. I turned ever so slowly and looked at him, with a face that said, if he said one more word, he would wish he hadn’t gotten out of bed that morning.
My guy must have read my face correctly as he swiftly repented of the errors of his ways and offered to help me with my suitcases.
But shame with a mix of pride did not allow me accept his kind offer. I managed to eventually get to the airport in one piece, all sweaty, frustrated, flustered and very annoyed! If I was white, I would have been crimson red by the time I checked in!!
Lesson learned? Travel through your closest airport. Get a direct coach to the airport. Treat yourself and get a taxi tot the airport. Not every time gangster. Macho woman. I gat this! Sometimes ask a friend to drop you off and pay for their fuel instead.
I’d have you know that was the last time I did such foolishness. Now that I’m in Manchester, I fly from the, you guessed it, Manchester Airport, taking a taxi to and fro. Ain’t about that hard life no more!
To your peaceful travels, . . .
…when I decided to fly through London Gatwick or was it Heathrow with no prior thought of how I would get there with 2 check in luggages, 1 cabin luggage and a laptop bag, with little hassle.
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