Coming Home: the Airport Chronicles

6:20 AM- Alarm goes off. Wake up to messages from my mum: “ARE YOU AWAKE?! DONT YOU DARE SLEEP THROUGH THIS FLIGHT”

6:40- Scoff around my room because I packed things that I need to get ready, and the things I still need to pack don’t fit in my bags.

7:01- Cab arrives. Not ready, naturally.

7:04- Water bottle explodes as I’m carrying my 32 kilo suitcase down the stairs. Naturally.

7:06- Take one last look back at Cimetiere d’Ixelles from the taxi. It’s still not sinking in that I may not see this place again.

7:27- Arrive at airport. Taxi driver insists that I get a cart for my luggage. No sir, I GOT DIS.

7:30- *scans passport into check-in machine* *error message* *repeats 3 times before giving up*

7:38- Lady at check-in desk tells me I should move things into my carry on to make my suitcases lighter. I laugh to myself because she has no idea that my carry-on alone weighs 20kg.

7:56- Security. *oh god oh god, hurry up and get your laptop back into your bag and your shoes back on before people start judging you*

8:00- *dries off sweat*

8:08- Rejoice that I’m going back to a country where healthy, bread-free options are offered at every turn and at a decent price.

8:20- Half-hour of free wifi won’t connect. I hate airports.

8:35- Cave and pay three euros for 15 minutes of internet on one of those little booth computers, just so I can message my mum to tell her I’m still alive.


8:50- Time’s up. Now what?

8:51- Wander into the abyss of wifi-less territory in total misery.

8:53- Collapse on the ground at the gate. I’ll just lay here in my own tears until we board.

9:20- Try, to no avail, to spot my suitcases getting loaded into the plane. Man, I feel badly for whoever had to lift those. I hope they didn’t inspect them out of spite, because they definitely wouldn’t have been able to zip them back up.

9:34- Why are people lining up already? YOU HAVE ASSIGNED SEATS.

9:40- Boarding!!!!1

9:40- I’m leaving.

9:40- I REFUSE

9:53- This is not real.

10:05- Take-off.

10:11 *comatose*

11:00- “Welcome to Dublin airport AKA heaven on earth. Here’s the best wifi you’ll ever use!”

1:05- On my fourth episode of Portlandia, accompanied by copious amounts of chocolate and wifi that, no matter how much I use it, won’t expire. Do I have to get on the plane to Toronto?

1:20- I should probably get in line to board.

1:33- There’s no one in the seat beside me. *PLEASE, NOBODY SIT HERE*


1:45- Doors are closed. Seat beside me is still empty. Assume fetal position across two seats.

1:50- *comatose*

4:04- Pre-ordering a gluten-free meal was a good idea. Eating half an hour before everybody else. HA, SUCKAAAAS!

4:30- *comatose*

4:00 (Back in EST)- *Wow, I really wish I could take a cute photo of the CN Tower out of the airplane window. Too bad I’m on the wrong side of the plane…*

4:25- *scans passport into Customs machine* *error message* *repeats 3 times before a tired employee comes over to help*

4:34- Suitcases are the first onto the belt. Probably because they were so heavy. Oh look, both of my luggage tags are gone. Airport staff are totally going to send me hate mail for having such heavy bags…

4:39- Mum’s crying.

4:45- Dad forgot where he parked the car.

4:50 PM- *comatose*

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