damn!

So much for my 11:40 flight to Verona, Brescia….

I left the hotel 3 hrs early this morning and still managed not to make it to Stansted airport on time! This place is quite the goat cluster. I paid an extra (15£) for the express train to the airport so that I would have some time to relax….no one told me that I had to pay extra for a train that was functioning. The damn thing broke down, luckily at an earlier stop, and we had to wait an additional 45 minutes as they brought up another engine. I hit the airport, 30 minutes before my flight, and ran like a madman to the check-in counter. I must have knocked down a half dozen people with my backpack as I squeezed between casual pedestrians that were moving too slow for my taste. I made the Ryanair counter and the queue was no less than an 1 hour+ long. I uttered a string of cursing in at least the 6 languages I know a little of, and there may have been some ancient Hebrew in there as well as I was speaking in tongues.

I guess I wasnt the only one that got screwed by the train.

I eventually made my way past shouting Italians and Africans that were chewing out Ryanair agents as fast as they would stick their heads above the counter. It was like watching extreme whack-a-mole as they destroyed whoever in the chain of command they could get within tongues reach.

The news from the man behind the counter was grim.

An additional 50£ fee for my “mistake” of being late, and no more flights until tomorrow unless I want to fly to Milano. Rather than spend another $75 night in London, I decided to try Milan. Hopefully I can get from Milan to Brescia somehow tonight, if not then I am sure I can find a hostel for less than the cost of a hotel in London. You gotta love this, now I remember why the ancient English roots for the word “travel” is “travail” which means “suffering and hardship”!

To kill time before my next attempted flight, I crawled into an English pub here in the airport that had all the character of a toilet brush, and licked my wounds. My 5£ baked potato described as “huge” on the menu was about the size of a tennis ball, and a rabbit would have turned down the salad it came with…but who cares….I’m going to Italia!!!!!! Land where the pasta, sweets, and vino flow like rivers, I am planning to gain around 5KG (10 pounds) then loose it sweatting in Egypt. You have to plan these kinds of things you know. 🙂

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