As I stated in the previous post, today marks the end of the second phase of my summer travels and the beginning of the third and final portion. Gentry left out this morning to head back to the states and I hopped a train to Waterford to take on the rest of Ireland for a while. In honor of this transitionary day, I decided to do a post solely about our transportation struggles. SPECIAL EDITION WEDNESDAY. Get excited. I shall begin this rollercoaster with the London to Dublin party. 

Let me begin your intrigue with this gem

Sorry, Gentry. I had to. It's too great not to. This is what I like to call the Gentry Train Face. Every train. Every. Single. One. 

So. Before we begin this adventure that is our journey to Dublin I must urge you all to take a stretch break. Get the calves, the shoulders and grab your sweat band from the pile of tube socks and Umbro shorts where you threw it after yesterday's workout. This is hands down the greatest of all the travel pursuits we have encountered. THE GREATEST I TELL YOU. 

To prepare your mind, know that we are introducing a new method of travel this time- airplane. That brings with it more customs, security checks, baggage check-in, supremely long queues and so many other things that you encounter only at the airport. Prepare your emotions, your muscles and your nerves. It's go time. 

So as we have learned in our travels the past month, time is your friend and your enemy. We played it safe this time, with a flight leaving at 8:10 in the evening and an aiport that is roughly a 45 minute train ride from London, we made it into the train station just before 4p and caught the next tube pass out to Liverpool Street for the train to the airport. Excellent pre-planning and allowing for enough room to send my London postcards when we got checked in at the airport and a nice farewell beer or cider. It's funny how things rarely play out in real life like they do in my head. Is my version of reality really that distorted?

At some point during our tube journey to Liverpool Street, a train broke down on some set of tracks somewhere in the beautiful web that is London public transportation. Don't you love the vagueness of it all? Upon arriving at Liverpool Street, we make our way to what we think is the correct platform and anxiously wait. Our first clue should have been the dozens of other passengers standing around with luggage looking anxious, aggravated, confused and annoyed like only people trying to get to an airport would be. Our second clue should have been the fact that the turnstiles at the ticket point were fixed in the open position due to an influx of two-way traffic. Why does hindsight never surface when you need it? WHY?

Turns out that particular train broke down in such a spot on the tracks that it was blocking over half of the routes running out of the Liverpool Station. So it wasn't that our train was missing or anything, it just literally could not leave the station. We found all this out later on. At this point though all we know is that our train is delayed which is gravy. We have plenty of time. This will be a great opportunity for people watching and mingling with the local Londoners just going about their lives. 

So we set up camp on the floor and watch the departure board. And watch. And watch some more. At one point I found myself in some contorted laying position with half of my back on my pack and the other half of me just kind of free flowing in the air/against Gentry's back. It's difficult to envision or exlpain. It was kind of like starfishing while being tased if I had to give it a visual, I suppose. All the while Gentry is very methodically separating his Pounds coins from his Euro coins and inspecting each like a rare diamond. 

Finally the speaker voice of reason came across to tell all passengers for the airport to make their way to Stratford Station as their lines are running to the airport we need. When I actually understood what the gargled speaker voice was saying I felt like Lily in the episode of How I Met Your Mother when they race across town via different modes of transport and she understands the Charlie Brown teacher voice on the subway. Little victories. So I fling into action upon hearing this announcement with such haste that I smack Gentry in the back of the head a bit forcefully and land on my feet in one fell swoop. I stuck the landing. It was an acrobatic feat, no doubt. Off we go to find the next train to Stratford Station. We board along with no less than 14,000 other individuals. Standing room only is a grave understatement. 

So this is great- we're headed to Stratford, catching the next train to the airport. Time Check: a little after 5p. We got this. Golden. You can't hold us down public transportation. YOU CANNOT DEFEAT US.

But it can. 

Alright, photo break as even I am overwhelmed with the amount of words leading into this sentence. 

Trains are fun. This isn't the sardine train we were on, but it is a train we took while in London, so I feel like it passes as relative. This was not too long before I fell asleep, drooled on myself and then fell halfway into the isle. Gentry says he doesn't have a picture of it, but I don't fully believe him because I snapped one of him earlier in the same ride rocking the Gentry Train Face. Karma. 

Okay, Stratford Station. We arrive. We navigate. We receive more news- the broken down train is also blocking THEIR lines to the airport. Exact words from the attendant- "If you get on this train and get off at Tottenham Hale, maybe their lines are running to the airport". MAYBE? That's the best you've got for me? Well, I'll take it. So board we do. This one was far less packed because we blew past the thousands of others getting off the initial train and left them in our dust. Had this been a race, we would totally have been leading the pack. Maybe we should sign up for The Geatest Race or whatever that show is where you race acoss countries. The Amazing Race? Yes, that sounds more correct. We made friends on this train from Germany- two very delightful older couples trying to make the airport as well. They were extremely spry in their old age and I could not help but find them so entertaining. Time check: 5:30 ish.

So Tottenham Hale. Very tiny station. We get off and are reunited with some familiar faces from the sardine train and have been inducted into the travel club with our new German friends. There are only two platforms at this station, so we plop right down where we get off and wait. Good news- their trains are running to the airport. Bad news- well, there is no bad news. THE TRAINS ARE RUNNING, FOLKS.

So we wait at Tottenham Hale.

Train comes. We board. We make more new friends on board- an Irish family traveling back home after having spent holiday with the mother's sister in London who is a teacher and coaches soccer. They lived in San Fransisco for 6 years earlier in life and their son was born there so we had a brief celebration for it being the 4th of July and him being born in the states. 'Merica, frick yeah. Sophie, their daughter, showed us relentlessly that she can in fact count to ten and then the most magical thing happened. THEY HAD A WHERE'S WALDO BOOK. Except in Ireland, it's called Where's Wally. How magical is that? #hearteyes

You're welcome for their life history there. I feel like it's necessary to provide proper character development when new people are introduced. How else can you empathize with them later in the adventures if you don't develop some form of attachment to them now?

So we arrive at the airport. Time check: about a quarter after 6p. We are so on point. Still have almost two hours until departure. Could this really be working out for us? What is life?! Victory dances happened for making it the airport, then packs went on and we moved towards the terminal. Dublin, here we come! We start making plans for how we will celebrate the 4th as we are in transit. It is decided that we will suffer through a Budweiser because what is more American than that and we will have either a hot dog or BBQ; and Oreos. Oreos are happening. 

Find Ryanair service counters- check. Check baggage- bring it on automated machine. We will defeat you because we just made it through three different train stations to get here. We ARE the ultimate travel warriors and we can handle your touch screens and laser barcode scanny eyes. Except not. I fail to find our pre-booked boarding passing so after waiting in the line to check our baggage we make it to the counter and then are diverted to customer service for new boarding passes. Which brings yet another line. 30 British Pounds and half an hour later, we have boarding passes. We asked the attendant if the passes would be printed on solid gold since we had to pay such an amount for reprinting, but she didn't seem to like our joke. Sorry yo, JUST TRYING TO MAKE LIGHT OF THE SITUATION HERE. Geez. So we secure boarding passes and check baggage.. then take a deep breath.

Time check: just after 7p. GOLDEN. A quick trip through security and we are well on our way to that farewell brew. 

WRONG. 

We turn the corner to enter security and find what appears to be the largest mass gathering of individuals in the entire UK. I had no idea this tiny airport could hold this many individuals. No idea. NONE AT ALL. Where's the fire department enforcing capacity codes when you need them? But for real. So we morph into this unavoidable line and wait. And wait. And inch forward. And wait. And inch. waitin' and inchin'. I feel like there's a song in there somewhere. 

During inchin' and waitin' we hear continuous announcements from the speaker voice of reason about liquids in carry-ons and such so I remove mine in order to be prepared and the zipper breaks. So being the ever spirited travel companion that he is, Gentry takes pictures instead of assisting.

I'm so pleased by your willingness to help in difficult and trying times, yo. BUT I FIXED IT ALL ON MY OWN SO CHEW ON THAT. We made a decision in the security line not to do any time checks until we get through since there was nothing we could do about it anyway and it would just be unneeded stress. So we bob and weave and zig and zag our way through this mass of people and finally pass through security without a hitch. We meet again in the hallway just past security and Gentry pulls out his phone and puts his hand over the screen, looks at me as says- "time check?" and I respond- "is it run time?" at which point he moves his hand, looks down and says a certain expletive beginning with an F which I will refrain from publishing as there may be small eyes reading, (I'M RESPECTFUL) followed by- "RUN TIME." It is now 5 minutes past the time that boarding is scheduled to END for our flight.

I run half marathons, people. I have done a lot of running in my life. But never like this. We take off through this airport which is deceptively large once you get through the initial checkpoints. We run through an actual mall. An actual mall inside of the damn airport. Why? WHY I ASK? We pass the make-up counter, the perfume counter, the purse center all built in a round horseshoe fashion. We jumped over luggage, we bobbed and weaved and zigged and zagged, yet again. At one point I am pretty confident I knock a small child over with my tiny backpack as I turned mid stride to fit between two people. We finally encounter a sign that has an arrow for terminals and the wonderful news that it's a 10 minute walk to the wing where our terminal is. Spoiler alert: OURS IS THE LAST ONE AT THE VERY END OF THE AIRPORT. I kid you not. 

That's it once we finally reached it. The. End. Of. The. Airport. We ran at least a mile and not a leisurely jog either. A full on sprint. I can hear the Advil in my bag jingle with every step and I keep side-eyeing the window waiting to see a Ryanair plane roll past us in the opposite direction. We run and pass people and all the sudden I start laughing so uncontrollably at the situation that I cannot breathe. I cannot even stand up straight enough to run without looking like I'm mid drunken stumble. Gentry has already stopped numerous times because as he proclaims very loudly from behind me "I WAS NOT BUILT FOR RUNNING". His journey went downhill after the perfume counter in the mall portion. I half expected to turn back at any point and see him crawling on the ground in the direction of the terminal. At one point we encountered one of the moving sidewalks and the momentum I had from running paired with the momentum of the sidewalk propelling itself ended in me catching some major air at the end of it as I was flung into the air, Matrix style. I won't lie, it was kinda fun. 

The struggle is so real at this point. We pass other people while running and I guess it freaks them out that we are running, so they start running too. It's like seeing someone yawn. It's contagious. So sweat is pouring off of me and I hear Gentry half wheezing somewhere in the airspace behind me and FINALLY I see our terminal. As we are running up to it, a woman walking past casually goes- "Terminal 50? You don't have to run." That's all she says. WHAT?! YOU CAN'T JUST SAY THAT AND WALK AWAY. Who are you woman and why would you do that to us?! I just ran over a mile through this damn airport and you tell me 200 feet from the terminal that I don't have to run? Ugh.

Turns out there is a very well known secret about Ryanair- they never leave on time. It would have been nice to have known this pre sprint through the airport. Talk about being emotionally compromised. We show up to the terminal looking like this

to find a very long line of our fellow passengers- I'm telling myself they were just waiting for us to get there before they started the boarding process. Just let me think that, please. I need that in my life. 

We get scanned in and then go out to our plane and do a million celebrations for making it, after we finish laughing uncontrollably, of course.

So we board and set off for Dublin and I watch the clouds creep into the skyline like the poisonous fog in the 3rd portion of the Clock Arena in the Quarter Quell.

So that was the thrill that came from our travels from London to Dublin. I still can't think about it without laughing for a solid minute. That time in London.. all the feels about this situation. Good times. 

Now, as promised- the contents of what became known in my phone as the Train Struggles album:

Tracking our very first train ever together in Rome. Well, at least one of us was tracking it. Apparently he was just snapping pictures. 

Celebrating on said train with wine we brought on ourselves and drank from those elegant plastic cups. We try to keep it klassy.

Waiting in Modena for our train to Bologna after having sweat all day look at Ferrari sex-on-wheels machines. Also post Gentry turtle-ing with his pack on. 

On the train to Monte Carlo from Milan- look who isn't awake. 

On the train to Nice from Monte Carlo. Apparently I was channeling my inner Popeye? #spinach

Our day trip to Cannes from Nice. Pre and post walking all day on the beach.

Waiting aorund at the Geneva airport for our ride to Paris after dropping our rental car off. This was pre emotional disaster

On one of the trains from Luxembourg City to Amsterdam. We had no idea we were in for a solid 8 hours of train travel that day. Solid ground never looked so good when we arrived. 

Comfy stair seats on the train from Bruges to Brussels after our day trip. Actual train seats are for the weak apparently. Stair game strong in every sense of the phrase. 

Waiting on our train from Amsterdam to Brussels. Upon arrival in Brussels, that yellow shirt attracted every single bug in a 500ft airspace radius. I wish I was joking. It was like a fruit fly grave yard on that shirt. 

Boarding the Eurostar after the fun time we had getting through Narnia to it. 

And since that was our last train ride together and I am traveling solo now with no one to take train selfies with, I present to you all my train companions from this morning on my way to Waterford.

Some great chaps, not super chatty and very slow in movement. Everything I look for in seat companions when I'm still in recovery from an eventful night before. Thanks for the companionship, gentlemen!

Well that completes the Train Struggles album. I think that is my favorite part about traveling, maneuvering trains and enjoying the scenery on the ride. Absolutely love it. It has been a great month as far as trains go and we have seen some beautiful landscape and countryside on these journeys. I look forward to seeing so much more in these next three weeks as I continue my travels. Maybe I will start a new album called Train Ride Companions and I can do a special edition post displaying everyone I have shared trains with since Gentry's departure. Something to think about I suppose, but also that's a lot of creepily snapped pictures on my part. I'll have to think this through. 

I don't know when I let my dignity go on this trip, but as long as you all find something good in these embarrassing moments of mine, then it is well worth the expense of my composure.

That's all I've got, folks. For real. That's it. Enjoy!