racing to rome

//

Travelling within Europe from London isn’t as simple as you assume it would be. Yes it’s easier to get anywhere within this vastly cultural continent than from my isolated island homeland – but it really isn’t as simple as popping to Italy for the weekend. For example, today’s trip to Rome consisted of;

A 20 minute tube to Victoria Station

A 15 minute walk to Victoria Coach Station

A 90 minute bus to Luton Airport

A 30 minute battle through customs with every other travelling man and his larger than carry on sized luggage dog

A 45 minute wait at the gate to get a seat

A 165 minute flight to Rome

Quit your moaning kiwi! It’s a small price to pay to go to Italy for the weekend I know.

However. What happens if you miss one of those steps? Welllll today we found out.

Unfortunately a rather hung over Saron missed her train in to Victoria, meaning we missed our bus to Luton Airport ….the next bus was sold out, and so was the next. We jumped on a completely different coach line, a lot later than planned and wondered if we would be saying arrivederci to our weekend away. We were still on the bus at 2.11pm and our gate “closed” at 2.30pm. Hmmm. It wasn’t looking good.

The bus pulled up to the airport, we stood at the doors begging them to open. We grabbed our bags and sprinted in to the airport and towards departures. We breezed through passport control (thanks to our mutual EU passports) only to find a huge line at security. Shit. This is where being two young kiwi blondes worked in our favour. Saron explained to the young male queue manager that we were about to miss our flight and we only had 17 minutes to get on the plane. Up went the crowd control barriers and to the front of the line we raced – giving him a grateful smile on our way of course. We then found ourselves stuck behind a few families waiting to walk through the metal detectors.  Saron worked her magic again, explained our now 12 minute situation and they in front of them wishing us luck race. Through we went, running the whole way to Gate 20.

Out of breath and quite stressed we arrived to find the gate hadn’t even opened. Brilliant.

We found ourselves in the queue for boarding with everyone else on our now delayed flight – including both families we pushed past at the line for metal detectors… #embarrassing

We’re now breathing sighs of relief, we’re sitting in our crammed seats reading our Rome Lonely Planet guide with a glass (/bottle) of Prosecco. We’ve made friends with the guy next to us who sleeps with his eyes open, perved on the hottie and his father a few rows ahead, played (& lost) three scratch cards and giggled at the Rastafarian wearing a Celine Dion t-shirt. Prosecco at altitude is apparently making us the inflight entertainment on this TV free airline – but we deserve it – right? We made it! (to our flight that is)

Arrivederci London 🇮🇹


Sarah x

/*

Advertisements

One thought on “racing to rome

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s