Waiting, waiting, waiting....

London Travel Blog

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At the pub with Steve and Cindy

So there I was, drunk (thanks to the air hostesses) and stumbling through the London Underground with my pack at 2 o'clock in the morning trying to find Earl's Court YHA.

Surprisingly enough it all came together nicely!

The place was packed when I arrived and being a pretty large sort of a hostel, that meant there were lots and lots of people in each dorm.  Sadly, I had to be one of those annoying guys that arrive in the middle of the night and spoil everyones sleep but I actually didn't get very much myself that night if that makes up for it at all.

I was right out of whack about my plan due to the bad advice I'd been given re cheap flights south from Athens and flying back to London to purchase another ticket South had also screwed my credit card.
  I was stuck here in London until my Father could swap some funds around my accounts back home in NZ.  Once again I appreciate just how good this internet thing is these days, "Ahh, well we never had anything as fancy as that in my day!"

What that meant was that I had to wait for the right time of the morning (UK) to telephone NZ (evening) and see if there had been a successful transfer and then purchase a ticket.  I had no money (as I should have been home by now) to have a blast but had just enough with which to purchase a meal a day so I could stay alive.

Having said that though I had a very close friend of mine living here in London and that first night I gave her a ring and we went out for a bit of a shindig. 
  She (Cindy) had a rather lovely man (Steve) who was a singer in a band (Ixi).  We went to a pub and had dinner and a few ales.  Steve and I talked of poetry and songwriting and I was almost excited that he was going to take my scribblings and turn them into something extraordinary, but it wasn't to be and what actually happened was we all had a Very Cool evening.

Four days I hung in London, twiddling my thumbs.  Finally I had the go ahead from my Old Man.  I telephoned the airline and purchased a ticket.  I had to go to the office to collect it so I packed my stuff, threw my pack on my back and hit the underground to the office.
  Out into the light and running to collect my ticket.  Turn and run back to the underground and off to Heathrow.

Tick tock, tick tock....
Out of the underground at Heathrow and running to whatever gate I had to be at.  Running, running, running -Man it was a long way!!
  Check in, pass over pack, sigh - ahhhh!
Walk briskly through passport control etc and straight through the departure lounge onto the plane. 
  That was a little closer than I would have liked, that's for sure!

On the plane I considered taking my Doc Marten Boots off.  I then considered all the running I'd done and out of consideration of my fellow passengers, thought better of it.

goezi says:
I originally kept a diary until my bag got stolen in Gibraltar June 1992. After that I just noted dates by photographs and travel tickets etc.
Exciting things like being stuck in a city are definitely memorable but those little details get lost over time.

I've had a blast writing all this down. It's triggered a lot of great memories, not only for me but for my mate Darryn whom I travelled with.
Gotta love this site for that!
Posted on: Sep 11, 2008
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At the pub with Steve and Cindy
At the pub with Steve and Cindy
photo by: ulysses