I had planned to get back to Romania on Monday 22nd of December, so I booked the last flight I could get with the famous Ro-Hun airline company on its name Wizair. Being the only option, it is obvious that selecting the time and the place wasn’t in my powers.
Max offered to take me to the airport. Poor him. He soon found out I was departing from Luton. And that the plane was leaving at 8 in the morning. So after I packed my bags and cooked some chips it was way after midnight when I realized I had only 2 hours of sleep left. So I took advantage of every minute, being aware that what was waiting for me was a 12 hours journey to a country that’s only 3 hours away from London. Nevertheless, let me tell you how I got home eventually.
2:50 am . The alarm rang. I postponed it for 10 minute (lazy nokia mobile)
3:00 am . The alarm rang twice. Didn’t want to get out of bed.
3:10 am . Parents called on my cell. “Are you awake?” they asked me. Obviously, I said Yes.
3:15 am . Finally got up from bed and finished the chips.
3:30 am . Got my room cleaned and heading off with Max to the Royal Albert bus station. (forgot that i left two chips on the plate. Yuck! )
4:00 am . We were still waiting for Number 22 (was it?! ) and freezing on a banch.
4:10 am . We were in the bus more awake than ever admiring the lights from Oxford street.
4:40 am . King’s Cross station. managed to find the entrance, but the station was not opened until 5.
4:50 am . Asking Max whether it would be good to ask someone if this was the right place to take a train to Luton. he said there’s no need to, hence (?) we’re fine where we were.
4:55 am . Station opened. We had a look at the train tables. No Luton train. Hey, sweety, what do you say if we ask someone now?
5:00 am . We get to the right train station across the street of King’s. Don’t remember the name. Paul something.
5:05 am . Cash machine doesn’t work.
5:07 am . The second does. Good.
5:10 am . Bought tickets.. Waaay too expensive.
5:26 am . In train to Luton. Finally a comfortable place to lay down and rest.
5:50 am . Luton station. Got into a bus to take us to the airport. I understood then what “parkway” means.
6:00 am . We should have got there by now. Traffic jam.
6:10 am . Got into Luton, huge queue at checkin. waiting in line.
6:15 am . buying horrible Marks&Spencer caramel chocolate while Max was in the queue. How sweet of him.
6:55 am . got to the check in lady who told me she needed my ticket number cause she couldn’t find me anywhere in the system.
7:00 am . went to e-ticket desk. gave the man my passport.
7:01 am . stupid man from the desk: ” so when did you book the flight , Miss? ”
wondering Andreea: ” in November”
still stupid employer: ” are you sure this is the right day ? is it this Monday? Maybe it’s the next one!”
more puzzled Andreea: “I am absolutely positive! what’s happening?”
….. him: “cause i can’t find you in our system”
me: “whaaaaaaaaat? ”
after 5 minutes of waiting, stupid man returns: ” Oh, this must be it”
scared, almost crying Andreea: ” Is it everything ok now?”
him: “yes, take this to the check in desk.”
And he handed me a piece of paper with a number on it in which I couldn’t tell if there were
e numbers or letters. and absolutely no apology!
7:15 am . went back to the check in desk. I decided to skip the queue and asked the first women if she would let me go in front of her since I’ve already queued once. And suddenly I was reminded about Romania. And i don’t mean that those people were speaking Romanian, they could have spoken any other language, it wouldn’t have mattered if they reacted the same way those women did. starting to shout at me saying that they queued too to get there (hey Mrs , i told you i did that too! ) raising their arms and making weird signs as if that was their territory and I was forbidden to step on it. I was looking at Max standing impassibly in a corner with my luggage when I made him a sign to come closer. I wasn’t going to move from there, no matter what. I was going to stay there and ask every person if they’d be kind enough to let me go first. I was having this feeling that something would go wrong and that I needed to see my bags sent to plane as soon as I could. So I addressed myself to the person behind the grumpy women , a man that apparently was British cause he replied to me with a perfect English accent: “Sure, go ahead, why should I mind? “. Oh, I’m so glad I’m going back to London soon!
7:25 am . “Miss, I hear the check in lady saying, I can’t find your bags reservation. So you have to pay extra, for check in.” And as soon as she said that, she took my bag put a sticke r on it, send it to the plane and handed me the bill while pointing me with her hand the place where I could pay. Only 16 pounds to pay. That was fine. Luckly I had Max with me, cause my wallet was the unfortunate holder of only 2 pounds. He offered to give me some money.
7:35 am . Only 25 minutes until my flight. “I have to hurry”, I told myself. “Just wait for Max to be back from the cash machine and it’s all going to be over. ”
7:45 am . Max’s card rejected from the ATM. Stupid banking methods! Trying to pay with card. Rejected again.
7:55 am . What to do?
8:00 am . What to do?
8:10 am . What to do??????
8:15 am . Saw another Romanian at the pay desk complaining about something. It could worth a shot. Asked him for 10 pounds. Got refused. Reason: The men had to pay 600 quid for his extra bags! Damn Wizair, they know how to get their money! Would be their tickets cheaper, but the extra charges compensate. Never believe in low costs! NOR IN WIZAIR!
8:25 am . Max went to find another cash machine. I was left alone in the middle of the airport with watery eyes. Did not know what to do. Million thoughts flashing through my eyes, none of them being a relevant solution to my problem. Was the plane still waiting for me?
8:30 am . This nice Romanian girl booking a flight home for another time asked me what it was happening. I couldn’t ask her anything. I just told her about the bill. No sooner had I told her about the money that she offered to give me 10 pounds. I was saved. So maybe I do have a guardian angel after all.
8:32 am . Payed bill. trying to call Max to tell him to come back. Feelings of utterly regret that I made him go through this thing. we didn’t even had a proper good bye hug.
8:40 am . The man with the 600 pounds bill and I were safe in the plane when this departed. It officially had 40 minutes delay. I was going straight home.
Errr, not that straight. Got to Baneasa airport where I met Dad, and then took 2 buses home. When I got home I hugged Mum and stroke the cat, feeling happy that it was finally over. My 12 hours journey was over, but I was at the beginning of another journey. The one to Napland. Cause nothing could compare to a good long sleep in my own cosy bed after a tirying endless day.
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