I am lucky enough to have travelled a lot in my life, not least, this last year, attending over a dozen tournaments in various countries. Sometimes the trips are pretty long, China for example was a 12 hour flight and 2 hours either side in various modes of transport, but I cant remember having a more terrible journey than the one I took yesterday from Paris back to my home in Cardiff, UK.
As it was, I'd played poker all night with Vo0, Vicious, Shaguar, Black2Lip, Crow, ph4ntom and TosspoT and left the hotel at a little before 9am after playing til around 6am. My flight was due out of Charles de Gaulle at 12:00, so it was going to be a but of a rush, but I could make it, I was sure.
I set off from the Hotel in eastern Bercy but kinda lost my barings and struggled all the way to the Gare de Lyon, around a mile away. I say struggled, because I had my laptop, a full bag with my camera in and my suitcase, which (like TosspoT's a day earlier) had shed a wheel, making it really tough to pull.
I couldnt get a train to Gar du Nord for some reason so I went outside to grab a taxi, only there were about 200 people waiting for one. The underground metro seemed a better bet, so I walked still further to the Bastille station Metro and after a bit of a struggle to get my ticket I sat down to wait for it. It was over 30 degrees already and the stress and pulling of the suitcase had meant I was dripping with sweat and I felt very sick. Having sat down I then felt really sick and puked all over the floor next to my case, where upon a nice french lady handed me some water.
I then boarded the metro to Gar du Nord. Only when I arrived here to get on the TGV to the airport did I find I was missing my wallet. I knew id had it last at the Metro station to buy my ticket and as it had all my cards and money in it (150euros) I had no choice but to head back to the metro station. I searched around the seat I had puked at, but no sign, so I found the information desk and amazingly it had been handed in, complete with everything, my cards included, but not the cash :/
I then made it back to the Gare du Nord and boarded my train, only it was now 11:10 and my flight would be leaving in 50 minutes.
I made it to the Terminal check in at 11:30, just as it was about to close and convinced the lady to let me in, rushed to the suitcase deposit area and then joined a huge queue for the airport security. It took me nearly 20 minutes to get through and I arrived at the gate dead on 12:00, with the gate sign saying it was now closed. Again I managed to convince them to let me on (mainly because I gave them a sob story about my wallet and feeling ill).
We then had to get a bus across the airport to board the plane and finally I could board the flight.
45 minutes later I was in Heathrow, London and again I had to wait a long time for the Coach ride back to Cardiff. It was due in at 2pm but didnt arrive until 2:45 and then we left for Cardiff. I tried to sleep a bit but the seats were tiny and the lady next to me kept falling asleep on my shoulder. Id also managed to find the only Coach in england without air conditioning and the sign on the coach park said it was 34 degrees. I was lilterally covered in sweat by now, feeling very ill and very tired.
The coach seemed to take the longest ever route back to Cardiff and we eventually arrived just after 7pm. A quick ride home, thanks to my wife who collected me at the bus station and I was home by 7.30pm, almost 11 hours after I left home.
Tired, sweaty, fed up, cash-less and totally irritated by public transport.
I swear the next time I moan about cheap flights, I am gonna remind myself there are far worse things out there...
As it was, I'd played poker all night with Vo0, Vicious, Shaguar, Black2Lip, Crow, ph4ntom and TosspoT and left the hotel at a little before 9am after playing til around 6am. My flight was due out of Charles de Gaulle at 12:00, so it was going to be a but of a rush, but I could make it, I was sure.
I set off from the Hotel in eastern Bercy but kinda lost my barings and struggled all the way to the Gare de Lyon, around a mile away. I say struggled, because I had my laptop, a full bag with my camera in and my suitcase, which (like TosspoT's a day earlier) had shed a wheel, making it really tough to pull.
I couldnt get a train to Gar du Nord for some reason so I went outside to grab a taxi, only there were about 200 people waiting for one. The underground metro seemed a better bet, so I walked still further to the Bastille station Metro and after a bit of a struggle to get my ticket I sat down to wait for it. It was over 30 degrees already and the stress and pulling of the suitcase had meant I was dripping with sweat and I felt very sick. Having sat down I then felt really sick and puked all over the floor next to my case, where upon a nice french lady handed me some water.
I then boarded the metro to Gar du Nord. Only when I arrived here to get on the TGV to the airport did I find I was missing my wallet. I knew id had it last at the Metro station to buy my ticket and as it had all my cards and money in it (150euros) I had no choice but to head back to the metro station. I searched around the seat I had puked at, but no sign, so I found the information desk and amazingly it had been handed in, complete with everything, my cards included, but not the cash :/
I then made it back to the Gare du Nord and boarded my train, only it was now 11:10 and my flight would be leaving in 50 minutes.
I made it to the Terminal check in at 11:30, just as it was about to close and convinced the lady to let me in, rushed to the suitcase deposit area and then joined a huge queue for the airport security. It took me nearly 20 minutes to get through and I arrived at the gate dead on 12:00, with the gate sign saying it was now closed. Again I managed to convince them to let me on (mainly because I gave them a sob story about my wallet and feeling ill).
We then had to get a bus across the airport to board the plane and finally I could board the flight.
45 minutes later I was in Heathrow, London and again I had to wait a long time for the Coach ride back to Cardiff. It was due in at 2pm but didnt arrive until 2:45 and then we left for Cardiff. I tried to sleep a bit but the seats were tiny and the lady next to me kept falling asleep on my shoulder. Id also managed to find the only Coach in england without air conditioning and the sign on the coach park said it was 34 degrees. I was lilterally covered in sweat by now, feeling very ill and very tired.
The coach seemed to take the longest ever route back to Cardiff and we eventually arrived just after 7pm. A quick ride home, thanks to my wife who collected me at the bus station and I was home by 7.30pm, almost 11 hours after I left home.
Tired, sweaty, fed up, cash-less and totally irritated by public transport.
I swear the next time I moan about cheap flights, I am gonna remind myself there are far worse things out there...
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Edited by ReDeYe at 17:02 CDT, 20 July 2006 - 7037 Hits