It was a horrendously long flight from Perth to London. It was made all the more difficult by a power-tripping check-in woman with the added value of inanity. Did you know that Ireland is still considered part of the UK? Who knew! Oh wait...I did make the mistake of pointing this out, which is probably why we weren't allowed a kilo of extra luggage..
After eventually arriving in London we assumed the worst had passed. How wrong we were.
Note to all of those travelling with a budget airline, check your email the day you fly.
So we arrive at Gatwick airport ready to depart, tickets in hand, luggage ready--only to discover all flights to Ireland were cancelled during the afternoon thanks to striking air traffic controllers. We were told that we could change to a flight departing at 20:45 and arriving around 23:00 at Shannon, so long as we could go online in an airport without free wi-fi.
Commence rummaging around for any spare coins we had that could be used on overpriced airport computers. This was followed by running around finding more coins to contact our coordinator at Limerick,making sure we'd be collected and then settling down to wait.
Even with Morgan there, it was still eight hours of waiting under flickering fluorescent lights and listening to boarding call after boarding call for tourists luckier than us.
In the next installment you lucky viewers get to skip straight ahead to our arrival at Shannon airport!
Which is where the saga continues! Stay tuned for Part 2!
*
Part the Second.
Once we did finally land in Shannon, the relief was palpable. We'd be able to go to the uni, get into our house, out of the freezing cold and finally rest.
This of course, didn't happen.
We got dropped off by prepaid taxi (thanks UL!) in Kilmurry Village, collected our keys and dragged our heavy and ungainly luggage to the door. I should be in a circus, my balancing act was that good.
Keys in hand, luggage precariously balanced we attempted to get into what was supposed to be our home for the semester. Except that the door wouldn't open.
We checked both keys, the lock and no amount of pushing or pulling would get it to open. Panic set in and I tried to run at the door and open it with my shoulder. That only works in movies fyi. And leaves ordinary people with an incredibly bruised shoulder.
Since none of that worked and I was tired, sore and desperate I started door knocking leaving Morgan to guard the luggage. After being ignored by most, finally found someone who helped us out. A good 20 minutes after we had arrived to Kilmurry Village.
Turns out, the trick to opening the door was coordination. Turning the key AND pulling the door. It took me another week before I could open it by myself...
After all the issues we had had, it left me a bit apprehensive about what the House was going to be like. Didn't help that I've seen hostels cleaner than House 36. Boots squelching on a sticky floor does not a good impression make.
At least I got a double bed though! Probably the only bit of goodluck to happen!
The next two days were our orientation, which thankfully led us to meet some awesome people. And then just waiting for our housemates to show up. Who would the four mysterious people be?
