Call me Steve Martin

The fallen comrade is no more. Much like Jesus I have risen from the dead, albeit three weeks later instead of three days but potato potato.
The day was off to an early start as I woke up half an hour before our alarm at 8:30, in no way mentally prepared for a 10 hour long solo journey across Europe. I was however prepared in every other way, my mother has trained me well.
The alarm went off and The Bentlequerry and I started slowly moving, having breakfast, finishing touches in the packing and last minute checks. We were so efficient that we were ready ten minutes early and so Quents mum who was driving me to the station suggested we go in early which we did. However there are downsides to being overly efficient and one of them is waiting at a hot train station for ten minutes more than necessary. But the train pulled up I said goodbye to Quent and on I got. All was going smoothly, we passed through two stations, Souillac and Gourdon (shoutout Milan) but as they say third times a charm. Or rather, as is always the case when it comes to the sncf, a bloody curse. We get there, people get offf and then the announcement man tells us that the train will be stopped for about ten minutes due to a problem with the train. As has been my experience with the sncf ten minutes is never ten minutes. It is always more and so I started shitting myself. Luckily the person sitting next to me had left otherwise he would have been in for quite a scene. Miraculously before the situation could spiral out of control the announcement man told us all was good and we were off. Crisis averted (the crisis that is me sleep talking in French is still not to be mentioned, I am in denial).
We were then back on (train) track with only a ten minute delay. The rest of the journey passed smoothly and before I knew it I had arrived in the very hot city of Toulouse. If you’ve been reading Big D’s blog you’ll know that Greece is hot, well let me tell you, Toulouse is even more so. It is also a wonderfully well signposted city and I was therefore able to find the airport shuttle with no trouble. The shuttle pulled up minutes after I did and I began to become suspicious as to how smoothly things were going. In my experience that usually means trouble further down the line. I arrived to the airport with none of this expected trouble and breezed through security. Life is so much quicker as a single unit instead of six. Quickly made my way to my gate with a quick necessary pit stop to get a drink and take a pee. Seeing as I arrived with ages to spare I had my pick of seats and took great advantage of that by man spreading to my fullest.
And about an hour into that and a few episodes into my series that trouble I suspected finally arrived. The announcement man (that dastardly bearer of bad news) announced that flight AF 1864 to Athens was delayed by half an hour. With horror I realised that my flight was flight AF 1864. Karma may be my boyfriend but they are also a dick.
Anywho the extra thirty minutes flew by thanks to the mindless entertainment that is Netflix original series and before I knew it I was passing the threshold of my nemesis, airplanes. As I’m sure it’s well known I am a great disliker of flying and yet my parents made me do it on my own. I won’t go into detail but let’s just say for a well air conditioned plane I was sweating an unusual amount. I finally landed 35 minutes later than originally planned and squeezed into a bus where everyone one else seemed to respecting covid distancing which took us to the main airport. I was greeted by five smiling weirdos all holding a sign with my name on it and then promptly attacked with hugs and choruses of “Moo Moo!” (all from my mother).
I was then informed by my father that I still had an hour and a half to add onto my already ten hour long journey. Luckily the time passed quickly with me talking everyone’s ear off due to my diet of brownie and crisps and not much else, which led Ruby to get pissy at me but I think it was just to make me feel properly settled in.
We finally, eleven and a half or so hours after I set of from Quent’s house this morning, arrived at our apartment only for me to speedily leave again, this time for a quick dip in the outdoor pool. Despite having been repeatedly told by my father that it is hot in Greece, compared to France I might as well have been in Antarctica for how chill it was. However I have decided to adopt the yolo attitude and so, without checking the depth of this pool, I yelled “Euro Summer!” and jumped right in. However the pool was actually only waist high and so I ended up hurting my entire shins as they hit the bottom with a bang that Allegra said could be heard from outside the pool. However I soldiered on and was soon making all of my sisters dunk in the spirit of Euro Summer.
We quickly got cold and so retreated back to the apartment where I feasted on the best dolmades that I have ever eaten in my life before writing this here banger and hopping into bed.

Fallen I am no more Czytaj więcej