Tuesday, February 2, 2010

Haven’t cried yet, not sure if that is a good or bad sign.

2/1/10 – 2nd trip home and summary of my short stay


Please excuse the next paragraph.

FUCK YOU. FUCK YOU. FUCK YOU. FUCK YOU. FUCK YOU. FUCK YOU. FUCK YOU. FUCK YOU. FUCK YOU.

FUCK YOU. FUCK YOU. FUCK YOU. FUCK YOU. FUCK YOU. FUCK YOU. FUCK YOU. FUCK YOU. FUCK YOU. FUCK YOU. FUCK YOU. FUCK YOU. FUCK YOU. FUCK YOU. FUCK YOU. FUCK YOU. FUCK YOU. FUCK YOU.

FUCK YOU. FUCK YOU. FUCK YOU. FUCK YOU. FUCK YOU. FUCK YOU. FUCK YOU. FUCK YOU. FUCK YOU.

Thanks


I am sitting here at Paris CDG attempting to re-cap the disaster of the last few days. With few exceptions this is how it’s gone. Waiting, Waiting, Waiting, Waiting, Waiting, Fuck You. Waiting, Waiting, Waiting, Fuck You. Waiting, Waiting, Fuck You. Waiting, Waiting, Waiting, Waiting, Waiting, Fuck You. Waiting, Waiting, Waiting, ohh…yeah, Fuck You.


In all seriousness, this trip has been so mentally draining and probably my worst trip EVER. After I finally get to Bath from the airport, I hang out at the house. The plan for the following day is to head to town to look around and site see and then meet up with the family I’m staying with for dinner (Tea). After waking up for breakfast, I went back to sleep an ended up sleeping thru the last bus into town until late afternoon so I just stayed at the house.


The travel time from Bath to Heathrow on trains is just over 2 hours and £36 off peak. My flight the next day was at 7:35am, which meant that I needed to make my way that night in order to get to the airport on time. I stayed at a hotel for £55 (£69 with tax) and took a bus that was £4 each way. I finally get to the hotel and get something to eat and it’s almost midnight. I need to wake up at 4am to get the 4:30 bus back to the airport. I end up getting about an hour of sleep, which sucked.


I get to the airport before 5 and follow the instructions I was given. I called immigration and they tell me to get my boarding pass. At this time the ticket person calls immigration and says that someone will meet me. After waiting 1.5 hours, I ask someone what’s going on. They make some calls and tell me that there is an issue with my passport. She takes me to the immigration office and there is where they tell me that they have misplaced my passport and I will be getting 2 more days of temporary admittance. So now I’ve wasted over £100 for nothing.


So now it’s 7:30am and I need to figure out what to do. The 2 options are go back to Bath or get a hotel around the airport. Most hotels, even with early check-in, the earliest you can check-in is noon. During this time I try to call the coach and am unable to reach him. Finally after 2pm, I am able to get into contact with him and make the decision to back to Bath. I make my way to bath, this time taking a bus from Heathrow to Reading and then the train from Reading to Bath. The plan for the following morning is to go to the Rec (where Bath plays) for an under 8 touch tournament and then the England Saxons vs. Ireland A.


Except for the parents, the tournament was good. The boys and girls were so cute. One of the highlights for these teams was the fact they were going to go on a parade during half time. The crowd gave them a really good reception. You could see the smiles on their faces.


After the tournament and before the game, I helped with face painting with the Bath Ladies. They are going on a tour to the USA in June. The game was great to watch. The stadium only hold about 8,000 and the crowd wasn’t too exuberant, but it was still fun. England won 14 to 13 (I think). There was a great break and chase that prevented Ireland from scoring.


After the game, we headed back to the house with a quick stop to the coach’s office. While at his office, I checked to make sure my passport was found, which it was. I felt that they “lost” my passport just to screw me over again. After a delicious meal back at the house, I was off to the train station. I end up staying at the Yotel located in the airport. It’s a rent by the hour with a 4 hour minimum. It’s weird but cool. For 7 hours it was £50 and didn’t need a bus since it was at, the airport.


I decide to get to check-in around 5:30am, since 4:30 didn’t work out well before. She is was only able to get me the boarding pass for the first leg to Paris. After going thru security, I have to wait for immigration to give me my passport. Of course it takes them awhile, but finally the lady finds me. I make my way to the gate. The boarding is a little late and of course my boarding pass is flag. They take my passport and tell me I will get it back when I land. They also have me weigh my carry-on bags. Of course I have to check a bag, the same bag I was able to take with me on the way here and the lady saw and didn’t say anything about when I got my boarding pass. I now have to pay £45 to check this bag, but it has to be cash and I don’t have that much on me. I end up giving them $80 US dollars. When I get on the plane I find that it’s the last row center seat, the worst on the entire plane. This flight is barely half full, so I’m able to take the aisle seat in another row. I realize the absurdity of them making me check my other bag.


I get to Paris and I am met at the gate by 2 police officers that have my passport. They escort me thru the airport to the Air France ticket agent. The lady is on the phone for awhile, obviously something isn’t right. I end up having to pay €125ish for this ticket change. This is where I almost lose it. I try to hold back the tears, but I’m just getting more and more irked. I didn’t think to ask was this change from the original ticket or the ticket immigration set up for me. Finally after awhile I get my boarding pass and the police take me to their headquarters. I remain there for about 10 minutes and then they send me to my gate. So now I’m here waiting for my flight, wondering if they are going to take my passport again.


I am so mentally drained and all I want to do is be home and cry. I despise crying, but it’s hard to think about anything else at the moment. So much money and time wasted. So much of making me seem like I’ve committed a crime. This entire experience I’ve held it together: Always being nice to everyone else, even when I’m not shown the same. I’m just so done with this.

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