I thought it would be fun to share a little story time with you. And this was the first time I ever went abroad. So, let me set the scene. My family and I had just spent the week in Egypt over the New Year, we were tanned, warm and not looking forward to going back to School the next day. We got on our plane at Egypt expecting a 4 hours flight home to Gatwick Airport.
Next thing we know a message comes over the speakers in the plane telling us there has been snow in England and we may have to land in Paris, but they’re going to Heathrow (another London Airport) to see if we could land there. For those of you who don’t know, England are terrible at dealing with any sort of weather. We are quite a temperate country, with temperatures that basically sit around 0-10oC in Winter, and 20-25oC in Summer. However, when it’s a little too windy, we have some rain, or it snows, or even once when we had an ‘Earthquake’ that basically only made some plates fall off some tables, we cry about it. For days.
We circled Heathrow for an hour waiting for a slot to land, and then we heard over the speaker that Heathrow was shutting and we hadn’t got enough fuel to get over the France, and so we were having to land in Edinburgh – which is in Scotland, who’d had about 10 times the amount of snow we’d had.
So another house passed and then we were descending. Now Edinburgh had had just a tad more snow than London and so we hit the runway as expected… and then didn’t stop… we skidded down the runway until it finished and then came to a halt sort of in a field. Obviously cheers went up in the cabin as we’d been sat on this plane for 6+hours. It was 3am and so the airport was shut, so we had to sit in the waiting room for another hour waiting for our bags to be brought in.
They were offering a coach to get us all back to London. But a coach to London would take 6 hours on a normal day, and mum was pretty sure the M25 (the ringroad of London, and the road we’d need to take) was shut. So she paid to go onto one of their computers – we didn’t have 3G then – and found out that the roads were a no go. So we waited in the airport till 6am and then got a taxi to the train station and paid £400ish for 5 peak time train tickets back to where we live.
You know what? In amongst all this havoc and hell, my body decided that this was the best moment to start my period. Mum had nothing with her, and the airport was shut, and it was 3am, so there was no shop. I was stressed, tired, grouchy and already (massively) hit by the holiday blues. So thank you body very much.
Considering this was my first time abroad, I decided I must be unlucky… luckily for me I’ve only ever been affected by delays after that – which involves waiting at an airport… not so bad.
Let me know if you’ve had any horror stories when it comes to travelling?