So I called the airline last night to try and get some info and they said that my flight will leave but fives hours late. And they assured me that I would not miss my connecting flight in Stuttgart. We'll see.
So I got to the airport at 8.30 – they insisted that I get there early because of all the strikes. And I see the departure boards, CANCELLED, CANCELLED, CANCELLED, DELAYED, CANCELLED. My flight was the delayed one. When I got to the check in counter, they looked at me like an idiot when I told them what time my connecting flight was. 'Go to Swissport and change your ticket.' When I got to Swissport I saw that there were three desks, one with a massive queue, two with none. So which one did I choose? The one with the long queue of course. Not knowing which queue I should be in and not willing to ask for help, as this would would be demonstrative of weakness and inadequacy, I stood stoically behind 10 or 15 other disgruntled passengers, mistakenly thinking that because they looked as agitated as I felt, our problem and therefore solution must be cut from the same cloth which led me to believe that this queue was in fact the right place for me to be. How wrong I was. Forty minutes later without moving an inch – not a single person had got through the queue, I realised that now would be the opportune moment to re-evaluate my situation. I asked the girl behind me and she told me that I was in the Easyjet queue. Uh oh. I was flying with GermanWings.
I hate flying. All types of travel really. Especially when I’m alone. In Rwanda I could only take the bus if Karyn or Dora was with me. I just didn't have the patience for it otherwise. All that standing around waiting. Sitting in a crammed vehicle squashed in between two people with streaming colds, coughing and spluttering their germs all over me (oh my word, would it kill you to cover your mouth?), a screaming baby behind me pulling my hair and projectile vomiting on me (which everyone thinks is adorable except me), and NO WAY OUT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! That last one being even more significant when on a plane than on a bus. I get claustrophobic when I’m squished in a crowd and there's no escape. It gets so bad that I have to resort to the 'just breathe, just breathe, take deep breaths' tactic. Yes, I’m waiting for 'beam me up' technology to arrive on the market before I commit to my next big trip. (I’ve been wondering about the negative effects of eating too much watermelon these past few days but as I write this I fear that I’m starting to feel them).
Anyway, I got booked on another flight, bought a phone card to call ahead and warn of my late departure and made my way towards the gate, where I sat down and ate pizza while watching The West Wing. I guess travelling is not so bad. It was cold. I’m used to waiting long hours in Nairobi airport where it's so hot that you drip with sweat, where you roll up your trousers as far as they'll go and strip down to the least amount of clothes that is decently possible, and as you're leaving the country shortly a little bit of indecency is fine. And it's not cold outside in Athens so as to give the hint to take a jumper with you to the airport, so I sat there in the freezing cold longing for the warmer climes of Africa.
When I arrived in Stuttgart, I was tired, hungry and thirsty which made for a very grumpy and short tempered girl. Add to that vending machines charging 3 euros for water and restaurants charging 6, I was a bit crazed. Then I bought a bottle labelled 'Still' and took a swig, only to have to spit it out again because it was fizzy. What sort of a country charges me 3 euros for an undrinkable beverage when I’m faint with thirst and half collapsed under the weight of my rucksack? And I couldn't afford to buy dinner in any of the restaurants/ I didn't want any of that weird German wurst, so I resorted to a dinner of Pringles and Ritter Sport. I didn't much enjoy my time in Germany.
I arrived in Vienna at 8.30pm, 14 hours after I left my apartment in Athens. It took me 14 hours to travel about 70 miles. I could have walked further in less time. That's flipping ridiculous. Oh, how I hate to travel!
No comments:
Post a Comment