As some of you know, I went to London this weekend with my mother and brother to celebrate mother's 50ieth birthday. Cool, hu? This is a story about last Saturday, the day we got to London. The Airplane landed on time, well actually five minutes befor schedule, but we didn't get disheartend by that. We'd bought tickets for the Stanstead Express, the train that would take us from Stanstead Airport to London, on the airplane and we thought everything was fixed now, for taking us to the big city. The railway station by the airport was closed for repairs. After some confusing direction by a lady with a very heavy accented English, we ended up on a bus which took us to the nearest railway station. My brother kept asking me, all the time on the bus, where we were, though I had no idea. (apart from 'England') Well on the train it stopped like a million times but weren't in a hurry, the hotel wouldn't move any place else and we'd booked rooms. After what felt like a very long time, during which my brother spoke endlessly about the crappyness of the country we were visiting, we arrived at Liverpool Street Station. Now, all we had to do was to go by undreground, the circle line, for about 8 stations and we'd get fairly close to the hotel. We got pretty surprised when we realised that the circle line, and quite a few others, were down for service. After some travelling this way and that, we managed to get of at our station, anyways. It was good, we were hungry and tired of carrying around our luggage. We followed the map provided by the hotel. It didn't work because they'd just put some of the streets on it, rather than all that were actually there. My brother's complaints about the country intensified. We did find the hotel, and after a while the girl in the reception found us interesting enough to speak to. Mum handed over the voucher we'd gotten from the travel agent and the girl looks mildly surprised. She says "You are here too early, you are booked in June." "In JUNE!?!" was my reply. "Yes, now goodbye." She answered and left. So there we stood, three Swedish morons, in the middle of London on a Saturday afternoon having no-where to stay. It didn't feel too good. We were all hungry so we decided to get something to eat before doing anything else. We had MacDonalds, not great but food anyways. We tried to call the Travelagent but couldn't figure out how to operate the phone in the phonebooth, not even after getting a special 'international calls' card and a lesson in how to use it. By this time my brother's complaints have reached a crescendo, and then he just randomly points at a hotel about a hundred metres from the one were supposed to be staying in, and said "let's go ask if they had a room" We did, the girl in the reception looked mildy confused but she searched and searched in her book of bookings and there was a room! Not large, mind you, the door to the bathroom coundn't be opened properly because there was a bed in the way, but a room. Three beds and roof over our heads. We sang her praises. Then we took a walk in Kensington Gardens and Hyde Park, had some food in a pub and went to sleep at 9 because we were exhausted. That was one day of travelling in my family
That first hotel sounds like one to avoid in future. No idea of service at all and how does someone manage to mix up March and June . It doesn't sound like your brother will ever want to come back. I hope the rest of the weekend was more enjoyable and less eventful.
That's a wonderful story. I especially like "three Swedish morons, in the middle of London on a Saturday afternoon", I might have to use that in a story somewhere. I must admit, at least when I was younger, I used to love it when stuff went wrong like that - adds to the adventure. Some of "London's" airport placements do seem pretty bizarre. Stanstead in particular is bloody miles away, ideal if you're going to Cambridge though. I actually love going to places with nowhere to stay, I call it "seat of your pants travelling" and enjoy the antisipation, will we or wont we find somewhere. Marcia hates it though so we have to have things all booked if it's her turn to choose a trip.
Don't worry, with that kind of customer-friendly service it will close down in no time. And on another positive note, Emil will not visit England ever again.
I'm more of a "try and take care of everything beforehand"-traveller but I can usually adapt to weird situations. I would however have asked the first Hotel what was going on and asked the lady to help me out, to at least let me call my travel agent from their phone. The vouchers had a date or something, right? So either the Hotel or the Travel agent messed up.
It was the travel agent that messed up, I mean, the airplane tickets were for the right dates. Oh well, we survived, all that's left now is to get the travel agent to give us back our money for the booked hotel and then repay the money we spent on the second hotel. Yes, we'll end up with more money than we should, but that's not our problem
ooh, this brings back all the memories of my first day in England... no idea where i was going to sleep that night, cluelessly approaching various ticket booths, fumbling with all this strange british money, thoroughly exhausted from my sleepless flight, dragging my luggage behind me with blistered hands. it was intense. i'm glad the whole nine months weren't that crazy. are you going to tell us more about your trip, mynona?
Well, Sunday (mum's birthday) we went to Madame Tussauds, those dummies are really life-like, and to the British Museum. Monday I met up with Ben, Clay and Grace and we went to Towern and looked at the torture chamber, the chamber where two princes allegedly were killed, the Armories and the Crown Jewels. It was great and I realised I have to go back to England a bit sooner than I did this time. It was great meeting them. Afterwards Ben also met my mother and brother. Tuesday we went home, which meant that we spent a lot of time on the airport.
You could have used dashes there, Myn! (Apparently Swedish people don't have dashes to separate interjections. Imagine that, Pixel! (Where is Pixel, anyway?)) We had a great time, and the Tower was well worth seeing, even though it was so expensive. We went for Italian in the evening. A note for people who've seen how slowly I eat: I was served first and Garner last; he finished first and eventually had to help me with mine because everyone else was waiting. It was great to see Myn again, and I agree that there should be less time between this and the next visit!
Actually the dutch don't use dashes there either. It's something I had to learn to do. We just use commas.
Lorks ! Photos ! Looks like you had fun eh... Damn you people living near london or visiting it when I'm not. Damn you all ! Myn, that adventure sounds just like what I dreaded would happen the first time I flew to stansted and booked a hotel on line... I also ran into a metro problem, but the hotel did have our booking, and everything went ok from then on... Let's hope it goes ok next time too...
Katcal, your flickr avatar is actually kind of creepy. And yes, fun was had. The Tower was good - it's amazing that it takes a foreigner for me to go see the sights of my capital city but I think that may be quite common. The Mynona family is a nice one and better at english than the daughter gives them credit for (though obviously not as good as she who studies it), Emil also managed not to act like a total spaz - which was good, yet strangely disappointing. No-one's mentioned the magician who accosted us in the train station. I was forced to hold a suspiciously damp ball, which duplicated, and Garner created sugar. Maybe he does have a sweet side after all?
Why ? It's Hubby's eye framed by a lock of his curly hair... what does it look like ? So you were holding a damp pair of balls and showed you his sweet side... Yep, Doormencons are worth travelling from afar to attend !
Never before has there been a more polite way of saying, 'I AM AN ENGLAND JUNKIE. GIVE ME ALL YOU HAVE AND NOW. '
