...before it even began. I'm a little disappointed that I don't get to skyrocket to blogging fame by, say, posting detailed accounts of living in Dublin airport for a week.
Who am I kidding? I'm thrilled to be out of there. My 06:45 flight from Dublin to London Stansted took off with only a very minor delay. The passengers burst into spontaneous cheering and applause once we landed. That was the good news. The bad news: The Stansted Express train, my best hope of getting into central London (and then catching the Heathrow Express from there) for my connecting flight, was running only half the trains scheduled. No problem. Train will be here at 8:45. My Heathrow flight's gate closes at 11:00. I can make it, if only just.
Then they canceled the train because of adverse weather--ya think?--but didn't bother to change the "on time" notice posted on all the platform screens. I was one of many hopeful for a little while there, but ended up giving up just in time to catch a coach in to Heathrow.
Thanks to airport employees that took one look at my scheduled departure time and another at their watch before hustling me forward through the queue--plus more than a few sprints through the airport terminal to get me just that bit closer--I did make it on to the airplane before it left. I even got an entire row of three seats to myself.
Now, after some 40-odd hours of travel, I'm back in the States with just a few more flights to get me from Washington, DC to Alaska. Suddenly flying all the way cross country seems like nothing! I guess I'll just have to earn fame another way.
I imagine the saga is still continuing for a lot of folks, though--both in Dublin and moreso in the English airports, train stations, etc. I wonder how they're doing?