Hold The Line
So… it was time to leave for the UK once again. And I had only gotten a little better. What was this going to mean, you know? Gladly, we weren’t leaving until fairly late, so I could sleep a bit. We stopped by in Charlottenberg for some last minute shopping, so I picked up all kinds of tea I possibly could. We also made sure to buy some last minute gifts for the Monstars, Passionates and Groupies. One more pit stop in the Border Shop, and then we were off to Norway.
Yes, we drove this way. It’s actually cheaper, we noticed, to do so instead of taking the bus, since the Flytoget is so expensive. We got to the airport and repacked our bags and prepared the gifts, because we were still a bit early. I didn’t want to go too late to an airport that is not “home” – and I wasn’t sure how UK flights worked from Norway, seeing Norway isn’t a member of the EU.
After gifts were done we sat down to wait for the check in, checked in the bag and left to find somewhere to eat. We really wanted waffles, but they were out everywhere. So we settled with yoghurt and banana. And I also got some more medications in order to get better sooner. Time for departure was getting closer, so we went to our gate only to see…. the plane is delayed. 40 minutes. NOOOOOOOOOOOOO.
So we waited. I was getting impatient, I felt the fever rising a bit in me, and after many ifs and buts we could finally board the plane. This far, we were still able to catch out train. Once we landed in the UK, the pilot told us the airport wasn’t expecting us, so we got delayed EVEN MORE. And now we started to panic – Gatwick has a long way to go to the bagpick up, and it was 23. And our train was leaving at 23.22 or something. Maybe we could make it, maybe not. And did we get off the flight? NO.
We had to wait for those buses you know, and as always, flight passengers are SLOW. Eventually, we got on the bus, and we started getting our hopes up a little. We ran to bagpickup, ran through border control and to the train… and we had missed the train by THREE Minutes.
THREE.
THREE.
That pisses me off so much. Had we missed the train with like, 20 minutes, it had been impossible to make it. But three minutes. That means, had we sat in the front of the plane, and been close to the doors on the bus, we would have made it. GAH.
Gladly, we found a bus, so all in all, we were only about 30 minutes late to arrive to Brighton. And the hotel… WHAT A ROYAL HOTEL. Oh my god!
High in the roof, big enough to host a COUPLE of horses, and a big luxurious bathroom… I loved it. The first thing we did, seeing they had a water-heater whatever it’s called, I made myself a cup of tea and poured myself a warm bath, in some last minute attempts to get better before tomorrows show. It improved a bit, but I guess I’ll see tomorrow. I hope, hope, hope I get better…
// Sara
Sara Hammerzmith 
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