A history, A flight and a battle
I am a frequent flyer. I have flown more than most people I know and I really enjoy flying. The first time I flew I was a baby, then next time I can remember was when I was 12 and moving to Germany. I got sick once we landed. Since then, my flying experiences have been increasingly more enjoyable (which isn't very hard) I like flying. Airports, checking in... I like knowing that I am an old, experienced flyer... I like watching other people who obviously don't know what they are doing.
However, there is one airport that is kind of like my airport-nemesis. London Stansted. Our first few meetings with each other went smoothly. First meeting: 2000. Then 2 more before things went drastically pear-shaped.
2005: It was late at night, about 11 o'clock. I was tired but excited about getting off the plane. I was to be picked up by my new boss and driven to my new home in London. Happily, I walked along with the other passengers to passport control, not suspecting that Stansted already had it's eye one me and was not going to make my arrival easy. "Where are you going?" I was asked by one of those ridiculously suspicious passport checkers who I am sure they pick out according to their bad moods. I answered all of her questions, not suspecting the night of horror that was before me. "Sit down over there". She pointed to a seat in front of the desk, which just so happened to also be in front of all the other people wanting to enter the country. About 15 minutes came a blond woman out of a room to the left and asked me to come with her. Without explanation I was put in a kind of "cell" with security guards to make sure that I didn't run away. Without explanation again, she left me there. So I cried a little bit, which the guards didn't seem to mind, I bet they were used to it. To make a long story short. I got sent back to Berlin at 6 the next morning and Jonny had to go back home. I had 1 hour sleep. It wasn't pretty.
2006: (yesterday to be exact) I got up at 3 am. Took a shower and left in plenty of time to catch my bus at 4:20 that would get me to the airport on time. When I got there though, they were only letting people on the bus that had a reservation. They hadn't said anything about that on the website. I went to see if the Stansted Express was running, but it was broken so I went back to catch the next bus, but they wouldn't let anyone on. So I legged it back to the Stansted Express, which should have still gotten me in just on time. On arrival, however, I saw that the train took 10 minutes longer than it was supposed to. Those 10 minutes were crucial and I missed my plane. Well actually, it was still there, but I missed check in by about 8 minutes and they wouldn't let me. So, I had a little cry and paid 40 pounds (a weeks salary for me) to fly to Berlin 12 hours later. Very little sleep 15 hours later I landed in Berlin. So here I am, loving it back here. Bring on the holidays!
Final score: Stansted 2 Sarah 0. Some day I'll pay it back. Some day.
However, there is one airport that is kind of like my airport-nemesis. London Stansted. Our first few meetings with each other went smoothly. First meeting: 2000. Then 2 more before things went drastically pear-shaped.
2005: It was late at night, about 11 o'clock. I was tired but excited about getting off the plane. I was to be picked up by my new boss and driven to my new home in London. Happily, I walked along with the other passengers to passport control, not suspecting that Stansted already had it's eye one me and was not going to make my arrival easy. "Where are you going?" I was asked by one of those ridiculously suspicious passport checkers who I am sure they pick out according to their bad moods. I answered all of her questions, not suspecting the night of horror that was before me. "Sit down over there". She pointed to a seat in front of the desk, which just so happened to also be in front of all the other people wanting to enter the country. About 15 minutes came a blond woman out of a room to the left and asked me to come with her. Without explanation I was put in a kind of "cell" with security guards to make sure that I didn't run away. Without explanation again, she left me there. So I cried a little bit, which the guards didn't seem to mind, I bet they were used to it. To make a long story short. I got sent back to Berlin at 6 the next morning and Jonny had to go back home. I had 1 hour sleep. It wasn't pretty.
2006: (yesterday to be exact) I got up at 3 am. Took a shower and left in plenty of time to catch my bus at 4:20 that would get me to the airport on time. When I got there though, they were only letting people on the bus that had a reservation. They hadn't said anything about that on the website. I went to see if the Stansted Express was running, but it was broken so I went back to catch the next bus, but they wouldn't let anyone on. So I legged it back to the Stansted Express, which should have still gotten me in just on time. On arrival, however, I saw that the train took 10 minutes longer than it was supposed to. Those 10 minutes were crucial and I missed my plane. Well actually, it was still there, but I missed check in by about 8 minutes and they wouldn't let me. So, I had a little cry and paid 40 pounds (a weeks salary for me) to fly to Berlin 12 hours later. Very little sleep 15 hours later I landed in Berlin. So here I am, loving it back here. Bring on the holidays!
Final score: Stansted 2 Sarah 0. Some day I'll pay it back. Some day.
posted by Sarah at 1:46 AM
1 Comments:
oh sar... so sorry. let me know if the funds run too low.
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