I went back and forth a bit today about whether or not I’d do my planned blog about our last trip stop – London. See, I absolutely 185% LOVED London. Until a little over 24 hours ago, when from London came some rather shocking news.
Not even from the horse’s mouth – but via a newscast.
Public breakups are never appropriate, Prince William. I mean, yes, I suspected Kate was leading the race to the altar. But in my heart, my mangled heart, I still held out hope. So good luck.
Well, as Eminem would say…Snap back to reality.
As warned, we were kicked of our cruise ship in Dover, England. Now, on departure day, you are given a specific time to depart – this keeps the groups going to the same places together. There’s the airport buses, the hotel buses, the people who are actually getting back on the ship buses, etc.
My family waited until the allotted time and went to the appropriate bus. Where we faced a cluster…
Turns out everyone else on this hotel bus dashed out early. And half of them thought it was appropriate to bring their three weeks of luggage on board instead of stowing it underneath. Turns out the same half also preferred not to sit with their husband/wife/significant.
In summary, there was no where for us to sit. And no one willing to adjust. Did I mention just how cranky people get at the end of a three week vacation? Multiply it by a big number.
We finally ended up in the very back row – the one that goes five across – where the middle seat is barely a seat and faces directly up the aisle. Yes, I’m nearing 40…and I still had to sit on the hump.
The bus ride turned into four hours of hell. Flanking me were my dad and a guy from Colorado. Within minutes, both were sound asleep. When grown men fall asleep, gravity forces them towards the middle. Where I sat.
The whole point of this ride is to keep you busy until it’s time to check into your hotels. We did actual circles around London. Many, many, many circles – but no actual stopping.
Until a bathroom riot. Never deny 40 cranky people a potty break.