ireland, part 1: it's a miracle we even got there

Our plane left JFK airport last Sunday, December 28th, at 8:30am. It was just the two of us on that flight; the rest of the family left on red-eye flights the night before. Saturday afternoon Mike wasn't feeling great, and around 9pm, he started puking. He spent half the night in the bathroom trying to decide which end to aim at the bowl first. It wasn't pretty. Nobody slept too much. All the spewing forth ended sometime in the wee hours of the morning, and he got a little bit of sleep. We were up at 4am to get ready for the car service to pick us up just after 5. Mike was in bad shape, he was so sick, and we were very close to not leaving for the airport. But finally he said he was starting to feel better, and that we should just go. So we left.

The flight was rough, Mike tried to sleep but was still feeling off and out of sorts, and was very uncomfortable. We were scheduled to land in London at 8:30pm and then catch our flight to Cork at 10:10pm. We got into London about 20 minutes late and started running. Let me just tell you, Heathrow Airport is on. my. list. There was running down long hallways, turning corners, running down more hallways, turning corners and running down long people-movers, and then more long hallways and escalators and corners and running and more running.

Finally we turned a corner and there was some sign of activity, which pointed us up another escalator, around more corners and finally onto a bus to take us from terminal 3 to terminal 1. Racing off the bus, we followed more signs for flight connections and ran down more hallways, through customs, down more hallways, through a biometrics scan, down more hallways and around more corners, through security, more hallways, more running, through a biometrics checkpoint, and finally we were through into the terminal. And were pointed to gate 89, all the way at the end. Perfect.

No sooner had we started running for the gate, they announced the final call before doors close for our flight. We picked up the pace, as we hadn't even gone past a single gate yet. Mike had finally gotten his second wind and adrenaline kicked in and helped him feel better, but I got a miserable cramp and had to slow down (I am so not kidding when I tell you we were RUNNING, what must have been MILES, through this airport). He kept it up and made it to the gate to hold the doors and wait for me. But we made it!

We landed in Cork at 11:30pm, got our luggage, went through customs, got the rental car and called my parents for directions to the house we were staying in. Through bad phone connections we found out where to go, and got a map and directions from the Hertz rental guy. We were on our way, but not before trying unsuccessfully to locate my aunt Bevie's bag, which had not made it on their flight.

It was an uneventful trip to the house, as Mike proved to be talented at driving on the left, even at night on almost no sleep. Phew! We had arrived, we were feeling good, and nothing would stop us from enjoying ourselves. Except for possibly my puke-fest the next night.


Anonymous said...

traveling when airports are involved is SOOO annoying. I can't even imagine doing it when you just finished a night of puking. UGH!! Can't wait to hear the rest of the story. :)

Anonymous said...

Wow..that was one crazy start to your trip. I hope you are both feeling 100% better now!

Anonymous said...

Puking aside, I've heard WONDERFUL stories about your trip and look forward to hearing more stories and seeing some photos - any of you and Mike learning Irish dancing???? love, gg

Thais said...

holy crap i cant belive you 2 had the stomach flu! That is the WORST!!!!

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