AEQUUS

Rail Breakdown

Apparently, the weekends are when the train crew decides to work on maintenance, accounting for cancellations of certain rail lines, and consequently many, many delays. I boarded the train towards Northampton to transfer to London Euston. Unfortunately, that line was going through a bit of construction. Supposedly, the winds knocked down trees on the electric cables, downing the entire line. Thus, I spent a good hour wandering around the compartment, wondering how I would get from Manchester back down to London.

Disconnection

This isn’t the first time I’m traveling solo, but it’s still nerve-wracking. I’m starting to feel that sense of disconnection – the anxiety of traveling alone. I snuck into Costa Coffee, a British Starbucks, after walking just four blocks from the hostel! I felt self-conscious. This old city is new to me. Buses with destinations to Deansgate and Piccadilly. People speaking with Mancunian accents. Free City Centre Metroshuttle buses going to and fro. And the rain. My goodness the city seems to be perpetually wet!

All Alone

I stumbled into my assigned bed around 2 in the morning, ready to pass out. I kicked off my shoes, climbed up the rickety ladder, and wanted to just black out. Unfortunately, I noticed that the so-called mixed dorm was all male; I was the only woman in the entire room of 10 beds! Next, they were all SL Benfica fans! I folded up my United scarf and tucked it under my pillow. It was a rather uneasy sleep for the next couple of hours.

Old Trafford Virgin

The moment I stepped off the train into the Manchester Piccadilly station, I noticed the multitude of fans sporting their allegiances; the majority were, of course, Manchester United fans. Everywhere I turned, fans were wearing scarves around their necks or were swathed in flags. It was a truly inspiring sight after such a tiring journey. I made my way over to The Hatters, safely storing my luggage away. I was given a word of warning, however, when I revealed that I followed United; the hostel was housing a majority of SL Benfica fans. Taking their warning to heart, I made my way over to the tram station (a la Manchester Piccadilly), my ticket safely tucked away under my sweater.

Train Transfer Log

I dawdled around like an idiot at Heathrow Airport, wondering how I was supposed to get out. I spent almost half an hour trying to figure out the Left Luggage process. It was bloody expensive. It wasn't until 11:39 AM that I managed to board the Heathrow Express to the Paddington station. I knew that I was going to end up missing my train from Euston to Manchester Piccadilly. That meant another £50 going down the drain.

About to Embark

My flight was bound to depart at 7:55 PM, but I didn't catch a cab until 5:45 PM. While I was nervously squirming in my seat, I called British Airways, praying for a flight delay. Strange, isn't it? But O'Hare is truly reliable! The flight was delayed to 8:45 PM. Moreover...there was absolutely no one standing in line! Granted, it was probably due to the fact that I arrived past the boarding time. Even so, it was a blessing. Usually, there is a huge trailing line that I have to contend with, thus missing my flight and having to resort to stand-by. The staff at the front desk were chirpy and helped me figure out which bags to check in. Currently, I am waiting in the lounge, hoping the flight does not get delayed any further.