Flight of the massive conk-ord

I awoke on the sofa bed feeling slightly worse for wear after having leaving drinks with my cousin and some of my friends from London. The night had turned out a little later than planned, as these things generally do, and so I hadn’t had lots of sleep. I washed, double checked my passport and after a quick cuppa and a hug with my buddies, I left my temporary accommodation with tired eyes, a sore head and a rucksack that was far too heavy for my self inflicted condition. A bus, a tube, a walk, another bus and an aeroplane now stood between me and the much needed remedy of a good nights sleep. No easy task, not one for the faint hearted that’s for sure, but a task I simply could not fail.

The bus, my first hurdle, was unsurprisingly unpleasant. London buses are notoriously over crowded at the best of times so standing on one with a hangover and a rucksack the size of a Wales, it wasn’t long before I had induced the wrath of a lady who seemed blind to my discomfort, but fully aware of the apparent discomfort of a fellow passenger who appeared to not give a shit about me blocking her path to more over crowding the other side of my giant bag. Instead of offering me her seat or helping me navigate the tiny aisle when I’m carrying a load heavier than my eyelids, she shouted at me before spending the remainder of the journey slagging me off to anyone in earshot.

Next up was the dreaded tube. Deep underground with more people who were likely to take me and my luggage as a personal insult. I needn’t have worried though. The tube was a breeze, a joy in fact. It was far less crowded than the bus and so I took the opportunity to rid myself of the rucksack for a short while and relieve my burning shoulders.

Arriving at Victoria I grabbed my belongings and struggled towards the bus station. My prize for reaching it was a bacon roll that was as stale as it was expensive. This was turning into a bit of a roller coaster of a journey instead of the uphill struggle or the downward spiral I had predicted. The two hour bus journey that I hadn’t been looking forward to, suddenly seemed like it would be a holiday in itself. And it was good to be honest. I whiled away the time away by chatting to Dom and my friend Ryan and was safe in the knowledge that the rucksack was safely stored away and would only need a short trip to check-in before it was out of my sight and mind until I arrived in Prague.

After a quick pint, which I had to buy separate to my burger and chips, (wheres the gypo burger deal when you want one?) in the Gatwick airport Wetherspoons, it was soon time to board the plane and bid farewell to the UK and ahoj to the Czech Republic.

photo 5

Smoke me a kipper, I’ll be back in time for Christmas.

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