So who am I, Bridget Jones?
The most horrendous journey of my life. It begins the evening before, on my graduation night. shots and wine and snakebites and wine. I think I even remember saying the words "It's alright, I will suffer the consequences tomorrow"...and i definitely did.
we had a flight the next morning at 12pm...so a pretty early flight for partying all of the night before. But you always think it will be fine when you are not currently suffering a hangover that is continuously bashing you over the head and pressing on your fragile stomach. The worst part is...we got up. We woke up on time and crawled out of bed, just about managing to croak a 'hello' to the taxi man. Things were not looking great for an hour ride in a hot car to the airport.
But things only got worse. I had to wind down the window to be sick out of the moving taxi whilst on the motorway, while my boyfriend holds me up and also inside the car as passing lorries nearly took my head off. It was not my finest moment.
So I was already feeling shit. And of course, no one else to blame but myself. But as soon as i begin to feel better and can slightly open my eyes to the bright sunshine....we begin to slow. The fucking M25 is always a killer, especially when you don't need it to be. After calling the airport and finding out information, only to be told to "rush" when we get there, as the minutes ticked by, I was losing hope. Not that I could really take in the full scale of the situation as i had the hangover shakes.
As soon as we pass the first accident, we hit number two. and this one was even worse. I had my head hanging out of the window, looking like I was going to die. And although lorry drivers can be absolute arseholes to drive beside, behind, in front of, over take...on the motorway, a lorry driver saw my absolute hatred for life at this point and offered me gold. "would you like some water, love?" YES....YES! I WOULD LOVE SOME WATER!
When we finally begin the move....no word of a lie....6 hours later... my head is still hanging out of the window like a dog, enjoying the wind and the air, we arrive at the airport...only to have missed out flight by about 3 hours. FUCK.
I have never missed a plane before in my life and it felt shit. just shit. Especially seeing as I had to rush and sick up the lovely water as soon as i stepped out the taxi.
So I now smelt like bar toilet, looked like Id stolen bridget Jones' hairstyle and looked like i might die any second. And my poor boyfriend had to stand in a queue next to me while we waited to rebook our flight. I feel so sorry for him.
I even actually asked the two women in front of me to borrow a hair brush and they looked at me as if i was homeless...cheers ladies.
Luckily I have the best mum in the world who picked us up again and put us up for another 2 nights. 2 more days in the UK was great, especially when I missed it so much being in Vienna all summer. Although, now I am back in my beautiful apartment in Vienna, smelling fresh and hair suitably brushed...I will not be getting in a car or booking a flight any time soon.