All that you can't leave behind.
Trip Start Jan 16, 2011
12Trip End Ongoing
Map your own trip!
Show trip route
It wasn't supposed to be this way, only a few hours earlier I'd said goodbye to my family and girlfriend. I had enjoyed a pint of Guinness with my buddy Eoin in Dublin airport, a very early and not in any way a memorable one, however a farewell Guinness is a farewell Guinness and not to be taken likely. Not being in anyway enamored with the thought of saying goodbye to all these people, I kept them short and as painless as possible before heading off through the departure gates of terminal 1 to begin a new chapter.
Unfortunately, life isn't always the romantic picture we like to paint sometimes, that and the fact that BMI airlines appear to be pretty useless, invited fate to make a untimely call. I think I began to feel things weren't quite as punctual and as strict as they usually are in airport life when the plane boarded 20 minutes late. I couldn't help but feel that the majority of my fellow flyers were doing so for the first time as they arrived on board looking flustered and with luggage that was clearly never going to fit in the over head compartments. Still, I kept reading my John Giles autobiography and presumed things would sort themselves out.
Forty minutes later and still in Dublin, my opinion had changed somewhat and the realisation dawned on me that I was in all likelihood, going to miss the connecting flight. Arriving in London an hour later than planned all but rubber stamped that notion. That didn't stop me from running through terminal one to the Heathrow Express train which would bring me to Terminal 5 and then onwards and upwards to LA. My eternal optimism was doing itself proud.
Looking up however, to see that the next train arriving to bring me to terminal 5 was still 30 minutes away, killed it off in record breaking time. Knowing things were out of my hands, I decided there was nothing I could do. Time just wasn't on my side.
When I realised that my luggage had been checked in from Dublin all the way to LA, I began to see that there might be a problem. If the rucksack had made the flight, it would create a bit of a headache and I might be facing a task to have clothes once I arrived.
The staff at Heathrow weren't the most helpful or mannerly people I've ever met, but I can't be too harsh as personalities are definitely an optional extra when it comes to airport personnel these days.So I wandered over to the British Airways information desk with very little optimism, in the hope that they could organise something for me.
To my great surprise the woman at the desk was the polar opposite of her Heathrow colleagues and got me booked on the next flight out, 3 hours later whilst also re-directing my luggage at the same time. Happy days, panic over.
A few quick phone calls later to inform everyone that my mini adventure had reached a happy conclusion, and I was soon sitting down to lunch and wondering about the next few months that lay ahead.
Boarding the British Airways plane I felt a bit more assured that the flight would be smoother and settled into my seat and checked the in flight films for some films worth watching.
Twelve hours and the usual air plane food later I was happy to arrive in LAX Airport, almost 4 hours late due to US airport security and to see Enrique and Adeline greet me as I came through the arrivals hall. It had been a long day and I was glad to have arrived and seen some friendly faces.
Arriving at Enrique's house an hour's drive away it was even more pleasantly surprised to see that an outdoor feast was being prepared. Mexican beans and rice, succulent steaks slow cooked over a naked flame by Enrique's Peruvian brother in law all helped me settle in really easily. Two bottles of Corona later and the memories of the earlier disaster disappeared quicker than the sight of me running through Heathrow airport.
"Mi casa es tu casa said" Enrique's Mexican dad. And as I raised my bottle to say Salud, I realised that this was going to be a good trip.