As we sat down nervously at a table in the overcrowded Wetherspoons bar in Stansted Airport it started to sink in that we were getting on a plane. Not so much that we were leaving home… But just that we were getting on a plane. Nearly a week later and I’m struggling to comprehend where time has gone. We’ve been busy (sorry for the late post) and I can only assume that our time has flown by (excuse the pun) because we’re having a
whale seal of a time.
Friday 30th June 2014
We said a lot of goodbyes on this day. Mum and Dad spoiled us with a very expensive meal at a restaurant not far from Stansted Airport. Had I known then that gravy is impossible to find in Hungary, I would have chosen something different to the chilli and lemon roast chicken, but it was lovely anyway.
Our cuddles and tears were hastily made since Mum and Dad had paid £2 for the privilege of stopping in this designated drop-off area and would be charged an extra £50 if we took longer than 15 minutes. It was heart breaking but I’m glad that Little Brother is just as emosh as I am.
Next stop, was waltzing right past the check-in queues (yay, for hand baggage) and into security. Removing my heavy walking boots at security was not the first time that day that I had cursed their existence. Little did we know, that later that day, we would cut our bonds with the boots.
After dressing ourselves again, we went to find that all important airport beverage to congratulate ourselves on getting THIS far.
And that was when the nervousness began to creep in. Is my bag too big? What’s our budget? Are we going to find our Airbnb flat rental in the dark? What even is the exchange rate from Hungarian Forint to British Pounds? (We’re still not sure by the way.)
Our flight popped up on the screen not long after. Ryanair allocates you seats now, and I got the window. Which subsequently meant not being able to pee for about 3 hours. They also don’t play their fanfare for their safe and on time arrival anymore. Pity.
Arriving in Budapest we were surrounded by young people, drinking, everywhere. When I say young, I mean, about 12. Siriusly. The public transport is super cheap (HUF530 for a single transfer ticket). The buses are pretty clean and functional. The metro looks like a rambling bag of shit. Despite this, we arrived at our destination safely.
Collecting our keys went without a hitch, finding the flat went without a hitch, getting into the flat went without too many hitches. But it was late. It was dark. We were tired.
After a long day, we snuggled up into our floating bed in Budapest. We were so happy. We made it.