However, when I arrived at the gate, I discovered that my flight was delayed by half an hour. Since I only had one hour scheduled between flights in Atlanta, I was worried I wouldn’t make my connection, but the woman at the gate said I should be okay. Then, as we boarded, those of us who were last to board (i.e. the cheap seats) were told there was no more storage room in the overhead bins so we would have to check our luggage which would be checked through to our final destination. A wave of fear came over me as I imagined them losing my carryon and me being stuck in Dublin and possibly Cardiff with no clothes or toiletries. But I had no choice but to relinquish my bag.
When we were all on board, the captain came on the speakers to tell us that due to inclement weather at ATL, as well as a sinkhole making them short a runway, we would be delayed for at least two hours and that we should disembark from the plane. Those of us whose luggage was not going to ATL could retrieve it as it hadn’t been checked yet, so that solved one problem. But, of course, the delay created another. I had naively thought that if our flight was delayed, all the ATL flights would be delayed and that my connecting flight would delay in accordance my flight from Detroit and all would be well except that I’d be doing everything 2 hours later.
Not so. The woman at the gate informed me I would have to go to the help desk to see if they could reroute me. Otherwise, I would miss the flight to Dublin. So, I got rerouted to Paris. On that flight I was seated next to a woman who may have been on the autism spectrum or just had anxiety issues because she was moving her lips, speaking to herself when I came to tell her she was in my seat. Then she took pills. Then she did a few other things in communicating with the flight attendants that led me to believe she was not aware of social cues. Then she demonstrated she had no concept of personal space when we got up to disembark. Still, for much of the flight she was asleep/sedated, so it didn’t cause the problems I feared it would when I first sat next to her.
The delays and switch meant I arrived in Dublin three hours later than originally scheduled, so I didn’t have as much time as I’d planned on for a city excursion, but I was still able to see Trinity College and the Book of Kells as well as walk around a bit and get some exterior shots of the Dublin Castle and a nearby church that was charging admission to enter. I made sure to get back to the airport three hours before my flight since it was technically international. In both Paris and Dublin, my planes were puddle jumpers which meant a bus ride from the gate to the plane and checking my cabin baggage. At the end of the flight to Cardiff, the man seated next to me struck up a conversation. He was nice and had once lived in Cardiff, though he now lives in Dublin. Upon landing, we were told we couldn’t deplane because there was some electricity out at the airport.
This was mildly frustrating for me as I was anxious to get to my hostel, knowing I still had a bus ride and a walk ahead of me in order to do so and it was already past 8 pm. But it was even more frustrating for the others on board as they were missing the start of the Wales-Portugal Euro game. When we finally did deplane, which was only about 10-15 minutes later, we had to wait again inside the airport because the exit doors wouldn’t open. Then someone who had the authority to do so, rerouted us through a different set of doors and we were free. Except there was no immigration. So I hope I don’t have trouble leaving the country as there is no record in my passport of my having entered it.
I boarded the bus and when I got off about half an hour later, I headed up the streets on the map I had drawn for myself. Everyone was spilling out of pubs onto the streets because of the game. I passed a stadium (it’s on the same street as my hostel), as people flocked from it, all dressed in red with various noisemakers and flags and doohickeys. They and I were headed in opposite directions and I felt like a salmon trying to swim upstream to spawn. Only in my case, my urgent need for a bed was derived from the lack of sleep I’d had in the last 36 hours. There were lots of police out and they were very helpful in getting me to my hostel.
Once there, I was given a visitor map of Cardiff and had a discussion with the guy at the front desk about the possibility of going to Tintern Abbey and Bath as sites on the way to London. It sounded like it would be a headache to do so, especially if I had my luggage with me. I thought about the possibility of doing it as a day trip from Cardiff if I could add an extra day, but came to no conclusion at the time. I was tired and gross. He showed me the facilities and then to my room on the third floor and my room code. The only bed left was a top bunk, but I didn’t care. I just wanted to shower (which tells you how gross I felt because I hate sleeping on wet hair) and go to bed.
After my shower, I could still hear people yelling in the streets. I learned the next morning while eavesdropping at breakfast that Wales had lost, which surprised me because people sure sounded celebratory the night before. I guess that’s what drunk UK sports fans sound like. Anyway, as I was trying to get settled in to my bunk and access the wifi to let people back home know that I was safe, one of my roommates arrived, so we had a nice chat before I finally went to sleep. Sleep was a bit more fitful than I anticipated considering how tired I was going into it, but it was good enough to get me through the next day, which I will discuss in my next post.