Finally the day of our huge adventure had come, and after numerous months of stress, hard work and determination, I was on my way towards the airport in search of the reward and relief for all of my endeavours. However, thanks to a certain man named dad, I had to endure a few more hours of stress, hard work and determination just to get to my flight. Despite this, after a few traffic scares and arguments, I made it to Heathrow and joined up with El and Benj, only after dealing with a fantastically grumpy check in lady who didn’t seem to understand a word I was saying. We hadn’t even left the country yet.
I was determined to turn my emotions around on the flight, and instantly started annoying the air host by ordering a round of beers and seeing as there were free anyway, I wanted to make the most of it. I called it budgeting. My last order of a gin and ginger (ordered separately) seemed to be the final straw, but I soon turned it around with abit of footy banter and shut myself up with immediate effect.
The rest of the flight was fairly tedious and filled with usual recipe of movies, sleep depravity and hideous amounts of boredom and was only briefly interrupted by some rough turbulence which, in the grand scheme of things, seemed pretty exciting. The landing of the plane, at about 5 in the morning British time, brought about new hope and excitement that had been obliterated by British Airways and represented our first step onto foreign soil in aid of our trip. However, our anticipation could not have been more wrong, as we soon found out, after a brief conversation in spanish between our resident translator El, and an airport official, that we had a 9 hour wait for our connecting flight. Although this lady turned out to be a hotel rep, the information provided was true… cue the beginning of nothing.
We started the day with a light session of wifi hunting and exploring, and after finding the usual starbucks, and of course stealing their internet, we regained some positivity towards our ongoing antics. This lasted about ten minutes, followed by a good 2 hours of, yes you guessed it, stress, hard work and determination, all in aid of finding somewhere to eat that was open at such an early time.
We filled out time by listening to music, eating, shitting, playing games and ,most of all, exploring the fairly big and interesting terminal, containing many bars, shops and restaurants but absolutely no people. It may not have been the type of adventure we had in mind when we booked to go to South America, but we made it work. With a little help from beer and food. Our connecting flight finally came around, which signified the end of a very strange, but not surprising start to the trip.
The bewildering, but suitable, day continued with the cab ride. Accompanied by a sexist and disgusting, but yet rather amusing, chilean the three of us experienced possibly the most out of the ordinary taxi journey of our lives. With the help of el, we joked about football, Argentina and sex, with many innocent girls used as an example from the pavement next to the worn out shitty little taxi. I think we could have guessed by that point the gentlemen in the passenger seat was scamming us naive tourists out of lots of money. 100 pounds to be exact. Despite this, we arrived at our small but kind of cosy apartment in high spirits, however we decided against going back out to hit the town, stating our lives as the reason. Weird day.
The first shoutout of our trip has to go to Sao Paulo airport, for providing us with an array of shops, bars and restaurants, all located in a virtually empty airport terminal. Would highly recommend for any pub crawl, partyor night out of any sorts, if you can get through security.