To say that I was distraught when my bag didn't show up in Manchester is an understatement. The last few days were a bit of a blur and you can also say that I travel about as well as a smoked salmon in a Zip-Loc bag.
Let me give you this from the beginning, it is more exciting that way.
My first post-graduate job ended last week. It was a wonderful year full of a lot of important lessons and meeting a lot of great people. And then came the three days of prep before I was heading off to the UK to play before settling down in Belfast in July for CELTA. So, there is that.
Enter Thursday morning, going to the airport. Things were smooth (ish). Enter Atlanta. End smooth trip. There was a huge storm south of Atlanta, so planes were not taking off that way at all, causing a massive backup of planes on the tarmac. I landed (after an extremely bumpy descent that did nothing for my stomach) and had to wait in the tarmac for 45 minutes because the gate that was meant for us was occupied by another plane waiting to fly out. Let me tell ya, sucking back exhaust fumes through those twisty things above you (what are those, cabin air knobs or something?) for 45 minutes is not the most pleasant of experiences.
The plane pulled into the gate and then came the lesson in cardio. I ran--not well, mind you-- to get to airport tram (on the opposite side of the terminal that I landed in) to take it to the opposite side of the airport, only to run again. I get to the gate (there was a gentlemen in much better shape than me ahead), only to see that the door was closed. Due to FAA rules, once that door is shut at the gate you cannot get on that plane. Even if said plane is still parked there and proceeds to be stuck at the airport for 45 minutes. Well, just dandy.
I have never missed a connecting flight in my life! I go to the help desk and the guy, Dan L. was his name, helps me in trying to get a new flight to Manchester. At first he suggested that I can wait for 24 hours and go the next day. Ugh, no. If I am on the way to England, I have absolutely no desire to spend time in Atlanta (no offense, but it's England!!). He does more shuffling and then hands me this:
AMSTERDAM!!! What a party! I'm excited already. This should be fun. But what about the checked bag I have? Dan L. tells me that he will check it through to my final destination.
Okay, cool. I can handle that. And heck, it is Amsterdam!! This is my chance. At first it looked like I was going to have an entire day there, but that ended up not working out. It was a bit sad, but that's okay. At least I can say that I went to Holland!
The plane was delayed, however, which seemed to go with the theme of the evening. After buying an overpriced airport taco, I waited for the next couple hours for the flight to takeoff to the land of the tulips.
The flight left late, shocker! It was a bumpier ride, but not overall unpleasant. I ended up getting a aisle seat, which was heaven sent because I hate long airplanes rides. It is up there with eating airplane food. Both are just, ick. You know that phrase "life is about the journey, not the destination?" LIES! Forget the journey, just get me to the dang destination.
I landed in Amsterdam and guess what, RAN AGAIN!!!!! Luckily I got to forgo the customs portion and just run through the twisted halls of Schippol Airport. This time I made it, which was shocking. I had a nice view of the land....sort of. There is a canal through the middle of the airport tarmacs, which seemed to fit.
The flight from Amsterdam to Manchester is about 45 minutes. I took off around 2:45pm and landed at 2:35pm in Manchester. HAH, I love the time change! I go through customs, which took longer than usual because the lady asked a lot more questions than I have ever had. (I guess there is a first for everything.)
I get to the baggage pick-up and NOOOOOOOOOOO!!! My bag isn't there!!!!!!! I fill out the paperwork and stressed about it for a solid 12 hours. Seriously, I had a carry-on bag with a change of clothes and things in it, but really had my stuff-stuff in my big bag. LAME! I checked my "track your bags" app in the hotel over and over, but the Wi-Fi was so bad I didn't get anywhere. I had to go the the EE shop to figure out why my data wasn't working either. It was a busy evening. But I did see a bit of Manchester's North Quarter, including this:
The night at the hotel was good, but I wasn't as restful since I was worried about getting my bag. I called the baggage line the next morning and they said that my bag would be landing around 1pm in Manchester, coming in from Amsterdam. (Why they sent my bag to Holland when my final destination was Manchester just amazes me.)
And then it came. That phone call that said my bag had arrived. Back to the airport one more time and reunited! It was gorgeous. And now, on to more pleasant vistas:
