Delayed, Detoured, and Definitely Not in Paris

As Austin and I sat in the living room of our parents house back in Springfield on Christmas morning of 2023, we again began to daydream about our past adventures and what the future might hold. Constantly feeling a fire under our feet, we flirted with the idea of heading off on another backpacking trip in the coming months. After innocently checking some flights, we stumbled upon an under priced flight to London that upcoming August. We had never ventured abroad in summer (with our first trip in Fall and the second in Spring) and were hesitant about battling the countless crowds that were sure to be present during this peak travel season. After some discussion and persuasion (on my part), we decided this would be a worthwhile venture and decided to purchase the tickets that very afternoon. As Austin had explored Scotland and northern England with his roommate Matt the previous fall, we decided he would make a nice new addition to our small band of brothers. With Matt now on board, we purchased a flight to London, England for that upcoming August.

As we had already explored much of England, we decided to use this initial location much like we did Dublin the year prior. London would be our cheap entryway to Europe and we would plan to set off to another country for the true main destination. Unfortunately when you have little limitations, planning becomes extremely difficult and this trip took on many different forms before we decided on our final itinerary. For long tracks of time we believed we would be going to Spain and Portugal before flip flopping over to the Czech Republic and Hungary. However, due to some unfavorable flight times, we eventually revealed our final route which would take us through Netherlands, Belgium, and northern France (and Paris). With the route seemingly planned, we still had much difficulty in plotting our precise movements through these countries and eventually which cities. With multiple moving bits and pieces, we continued to plan and finalize our itinerary up until the final day of our scheduled departure.

Days began to slowly fade away and I soon found myself in the middle of August, days before our departure date. I decided to head into Springfield early and worked a few days from my parents house while finalizing some missing pieces of the trip. During these small brainstorming sessions, I happened to stumble upon a small town in England called Arundel and I earmarked it as a potential destination for our last day in England. The week finally came to pass and Austin, Matt, and I set off at a local Kum & Go for some last minute snacks for breakfast for the following morning. As the day we had circled on our calendar finally arrived (8/17/24), we left our parents house in Springfield and set off towards the Springfield airport under the cover of early morning darkness. We quickly said goodbye to Mom & Dad and set off down the empty terminal. Unfortunately, Austin and Matt were flagged at security due to having water left in their bottles and had to repeat the process; giving a small preview of what kind of day we had in store for us.

We had a short wait in Springfield before we shortly found ourselves now within the Charlotte airport (after being stuck on the runway for an hour before we could deboard). We had a rather long delay (4 hours) in Charlotte which grew even longer when our flight was delayed by another hour. We spent our time pacing the crowded corridors and having a small lunch (Chick-Fil-A) while daydreaming about the week we had ahead of us.

After several long hours, it was finally time for us to depart Charlotte. As we began to board the plane, disaster struck as I heard Austin mumble behind me the most dreaded word - “canceled”. As we stood in line to board with tickets in hand, we had all received an email from British Airways stating that our flight from New York to London Gatwick had been canceled and rescheduled for the following evening. Due to our current location/situation, we were left without any options and had to board the plane to New York, unsure what would be awaiting us. The flight to New York was torturous as we were left helpless about our future, as with this cancellation, our entire trip itinerary was currently left in shambles. The moment we deboarded the plane in JFK, we set off in a flash to locate the British Airways counter to demand some explanations and hopefully a solution. We sprinted through the terminal, narrowly missing collisions with travelers and suitcases until we finally found ourselves in a long, twisting line in front of the British Airways desk. Long moments seemed to drag by until it was finally our turn at the counter, with our fate securely in the hands of the woman now in front of us. We began to spill our frustrations and situation before we were then given a semi-lifeline. We could either spend the night in the airport and leave the following evening or we could set off within the next hour and travel to Milan, Italy before heading to London Heathrow. Though the alternative was not the most pleasant (a layover in a whole separate country, sitting apart from one another, and ending up in Heathrow instead of Gatwick - which would in turn mean we miss our flight to Amsterdam), we decided to proceed forward with this course of action as it would provide immediate movement instead of wasting a full day and a half at an airport.

We soon flew through the terminals and security before boarding our new flight to Milan (all the while frantically trying to plan the rest of the trip due to this massive delay/hiccup). The flight from JFK to Milan was one of the worst experiences in my life and truly seemed to age me years instead of the 8 hour flight duration. Matt, Austin, and I were all seated separately from each other and I found myself in the middle aisle, sandwiched between a middle aged British gentleman and a small Italian child. As I happened to catch a glimpse of the man’s phone next to me, I realized he was reviewing scores/news over several Premier League games. Using this opening, we began a conversation about soccer, his love for Aston Villa, travel, and life. We spoke for several hours until meal service and it was great to be able to pass some of the time. Unfortunately the rest of the flight did not live up to its beginning as I decided to take some sleeping pills that were provided to me previously by my Uncle Dan. An hour later, I began to feel violently ill and experienced some of the worst nausea and cramping of my life (later attribute this to having the pills with 2 Heinekens). After fighting with my own body, I decided to block out any suffering with music and media through my small screen. After several grueling hours we finally caught glimpses of land out the small porthole sized window and found ourselves touching down in Milan.

After navigating the maze of nondescript corridors, we found a row of plastic seating up against a wall and dove into our positions for the next 4 hours. The next several hours seemed to pass ever so slowly as we had our noses pressed up to our phones trying to find new flights in an attempt to salvage our itinerary. I eventually stumbled across a reasonable flight to Amsterdam for the next day, meaning we would have to stay in England tonight (unplanned). We purchased this new flight and quickly planned the rest of the day which included transportation and a hotel for the evening. After what seemed to last an eternity, our time in Milan was over and we made our way through the bland corridors before boarding a small bus and being whisked down the tarmac. We were able to climb the narrow steps into the plane while glancing over our shoulders to the Italian mountains at our back.

For our flight to London, we were seated in the very last row and it was not long before Matt and Austin started to slip off into a deep sleep. Soon enough we found ourselves in London’s almighty Heathrow airport once more and we set off through the concrete jungle and quickly burst into the afternoon sun. We had some confusion in our attempts at finding which bus to take to Horley but after asking several attendants, we rushed back into the airport and watched our bank accounts drain after using the ticket machine on the wall. After watching hundreds of buses soar past, ours finally appeared and we quickly hopped on the large coach and set off towards our final destination of the day, Horley.

As we sunk into the large cushioned seats, we noticed we were some of the only people on the coach outside of a small Indian family with a young child who proceeded to cry the majority of the hour ride. The drive to Horley went by in a flash as I was captivated with all the sights out my window and being overjoyed with the fact that I was now back in England after that first trip several years ago. England will always have a very special place in my heart due to Austin and my first trip and it was amazing being back within its borders. Not only was I greeted with English motorists and typical green fields; but off in the far distance, I was even blessed with the sight of amusement park rides creeping out of the distance as I was now seeing Thorpe Park (which I had seen years earlier in my favorite show, The Inbetweeners).

After an hour on the coach, we eventually crawled into London Gatwick airport. After reviewing our trusted maps, we decided to save some money and walk to our hotel which was just a short 25 minute gaunt away. We found a small footpath and set off down multiple dark tunnels and dirt trails until we found ourselves in a large sprawling park. It was such a surreal feeling navigating to our impromptu hotel and walking through this beautiful park as it was all previously unplanned (due to the flight cancellation).

As we made our way along the banks of a small river and under the cover of the looming trees, we all felt the same realization that the trip had finally started and we were on our way to something great. Soon the trees gave way to small city streets and we were pacing down Horley towards our hotel for the evening, the Acorn Lodge.

It wasn’t long before we were checked in and lounging on our twin mattresses trying to discover the best option for dinner in this small hamlet. We soon decided on a small pub just a short walk away so we could quench our thirst for typical fish and chips. A short walk through Horley, we found ourselves in a small dim pub bustling with life. A Premier League game happened to be on (Manchester City vs Chelsea) and we were able to slip into the crowds of dark blue jerseys swarmed amongst the TVs. We enjoyed our dinner (with some mandatory pints) and slipped out into the night and made our way back to our hotel (not before a quick detour to a nearby Tesco to load up on some British sweets); finally signaling an end to one of the longest and most stressful days of our lives.