Sometimes trips go perfectly. The hotel you chose is
lovely, your flights are on time and smooth, the food is good, the sites are
all open when they promise to be, and there are no crowds. When that
happens, travel is amazing.
And sometimes things don’t go so well. The weather is
miserable, your credit card doesn’t work in another country, you get sick, you
get robbed, or any other number of tragedies occurs. All of these have
happened to me or to my travel companions, and it has the potential to ruin
even the best-planned vacations.
London started out as one giant headache.
When I got to the airport, my bags were overweight.
They’d given me fair warning, I’d just read the premium column, not
economy. It was either pay $65 to check a tiny carry-on suitcase, OR….
stuff everything into all of my pockets and hope for the best. That
worked, but it seemed like such a silly exercise. In the end I wasn’t
taking less on the plane, I was just carrying it on my person instead of in my
bag. Thank heavens for deep pockets in puffy coats. Lesson learned:
I can easily travel in a carry on bag. I cannot travel in a carry on bag
with a 10 kg weight limit. At least not in the winter.
Then, on the flight, I’d taken out my contacts and realized
that I’d forgotten my glasses. No problem, I was just going to sleep.
I had a wonderful seat in the front row with lots of leg room, so I
stretched out to relax, only to hear a couple of children a few rows behind me
begin to chatter. Reaching into my toiletry bag I went to grab my
earplugs. Instead, I grabbed my razor, and sliced off several layers of
skin. Gushing blood, unable to see, I stumbled over the people next to me
from my window seat to find the flight attendants, begging them for a band
aide. Of course they were in the back of the plane. Eventually they
got a few for me, which stopped the bleeding if not the pain! I was in a
bandage for most of the week.
Once we arrived in London, things went fairly smoothly.
We went to the Victoria and Albert museum, then rested for a bit before
dinner and a show. On the tube back from the show…
Feathers. Feathers everywhere.
Somehow my coat had ripped and was shedding down throughout
the Piccadilly line. I grabbed hold of the ripped section and walked
awkwardly back to the hotel, where I was able to safety pin it back together.
Thankfully, the hotel had a lovely amenities list where I was able to get
a sewing kit. We’re talking multiple colors of thread and pre-threaded
needles! A little home ec and my big puffy coat was no longer molting in
the tube.
Overall these were minor things. On my first trip to
London, my hostel reservation never went through and there was no room at the
inn, beyond the first night. I survived, cobbling together hostels and
hotels for the rest of the week through a few lucky breaks and a few
long-distance phone calls back to my parents. Twice, travel partners have
been robbed in Italy. My luggage got lost going to Turkey and it rained the
whole time we were there. Sometime between my trip to Montreal and
Quebec, my bank decided Canada was a separate country and denied access to the
ATM without a call first. And it was 3 PM on a Saturday when I learned
this, meaning no access until Monday. You get the idea.
Anyway, the hiccups subsided after the first few days and
London was a perfect vacation. But I tend to write about all the
highlights so I thought a reminder that things go wrong might be due for
balance. Because no travel is as perfect as it seems on TV, and there’s
never a handsome man to save you like in a Lifetime Movie.
