Isn't That Nice: From London to Dublin

I know I promised a post immediately after the last, but my family just visited for a few days so I’ve been busy enjoying my time with them! (which I will be blogging about soon!) I hinted in my last post that Amanda and I had quite an adventure getting from London to Dublin. So let me break it down…

My app SkyScanner found Amanda and I a flight for about 35 euro flying from London Luton to the Dublin Airport…. at 6am on Sunday. The flight was with RyanAir who is notorious for how awful it is (ihateryanair.org). We wanted to get to the airport a few hours in advance, and our hostel told us the best way to get there at that time in the morning was to take a train to the airport for 15 pounds.

Of course, since our flight is at 6:30am, we had to leave our hostel at 2:30am. We couldn’t take the Underground to the train station because it shuts off from around midnight to 6am, so we had to take a cab to the train station. So we got to the station and each bought our train tickets.

There was a Starbucks there, so we figured we’d get some caffeine in our system and then figure out where the next train left from. I asked one of the security guards, and there was a group of people who were also going to Luton and told us we could follow them in a few hours! I asked when the train left, and they said 6am. Apparently this 24 hour train skips the first few hours of the day on Sunday mornings only. So there goes that plan. We knew the only other option would be to get a taxi.

Naturally, since its 3am, no one is out and we’re trying to hail a cab from some random street corner. We didn’t know if a cab would even take us all the way to Luton and if anyone was running at that time. We finally got a cab and it got us to the airport at 4am. The cab ride was 129 pounds (we had 130 pounds with us) which translates to a whole lotta dollars.

So we’re tired, sassy, broke and ready to get on this dang plane. We get through security, everyone’s nice, the airport is empty and we got a seat in the front of the airport and had two whole hours to kill.

We slept, played IceCream Jump on our iPhones and complained about the lack of free WiFi in airports (and outlets by the way. I mean what is up with that?!). Luton is the most annoying airport I’ve ever flown through and I’ve been to a lot of airports. They have one screen in the front of the airport that tells you where your gate is, but they don’t announce the gate until boarding time. You know how at home you have the gate and can hang out there until you can board? Nope. They display it 30 minutes before and everyone sprints to the gate to get in line. And this is a big airport.

So we speed walked to our gate and we were fourth in line. We already knew we’d have to be careful about our baggage because RyanAir doesn’t allow more than one personal item on the flight (I can’t even have a purse) and they charge you 50 euro for having it. So we had to shove all our things into our bag. I had borrowed a duffle from a friend because I knew if it was too big to fit inside the tiny compartment they say is the size of the plane (lies) I’d have to check it, but Amanda had a rolling bag and we were both nervous about the fees.

So the British RyanAir lady comes up to us and asks to see our boarding passes. All The Mean Lady says is “sorry, you can’t fly with us.” Uhm, what? Excuse me? “You need to get this boarding pass stamped. You won’t be allowed on the plane. You can sit here and we’ll figure out how to get you on another plane but you’ll have to pay a cancelation fee and for a new flight.”

Tears.

We had to get our boarding pass stamped. Are you kidding me?! You made us check-in online and print our boarding passes in advance or charge us 70 euro so we obviously didn’t got to check-in and we needed to get it stamped? Apparently for all non-EU passports, you need a stamp from RyanAir (not security) on your boarding pass (not the passport).

I’m crying. I mean, we paid for our flight to Dublin and to Nice already. We booked a bus tour to the Cliffs of Moher and our hostel. Are we just going to have to fly back to Nice? Are we going to get to Dublin tomorrow and miss our bus tour?

The Mean Lady told us there was absolutely no way we would make it back to check-in on time to get it stamped, go back through security and make it back to board the plane. We were sitting down for about a minute thinking about how terrible it was, but then we decided we had to try. I wish we had gotten this filmed…

We SPRINTED. I mean, sprinted. We ran all the way back to the front of the airport, through security, and to the RyanAir check in desk. I have the duffle bag so I feel like I’m in the army or something and I’m way too out of shape for all this nonsense. We get to the check in and all she does is stamp it for us. Literally, she didn’t even see our passports. Okay…

So we run back. I’ve never moved so fast in my life. We get to the front of security because they actually opened another line for us. Thanks, Luton! We get through and the guy even helps me pack up my bag. But oh, I lost my passport. Of course. More tears.

We found my passport underneath my bag (thank goodness) and got back into track mode. I just laughed aloud thinking about what happened next. So we’re running running running and Amanda’s a couple steps ahead of me and drops her sweater off of her bag. So, being the natural athlete I am… I’m running super fast(this is all slow motion in my head as I type this) I see the black sweater on the ground. Amanda’s hair whips around and she spots the sweater. Should she grab it? Should she leave it behind? Am I going to grab it for her? I am going at full speed. Amanda staring, sweater on ground. Cue me. I swooped up the sweater like I’m some crazy athlete and I don’t even slow down. I have this 40 pound bag on my back that basically pushes me down but somehow I don’t fall. We got the sweater. If you can picture ME doing this, you should actually be laughing right now.

Okay, back to the story. So we’re running still. Everyone in the airport is clearing their way for us like the Red Sea and yelling “Good luck!” We hear some running behind us and realize it is a random man who was at the same pub crawl as us a few hours before (he had gone up to Amanda and asked where she was from. She said the U.S. and he walked away…).

The three of us are apparently all trying to catch the same plane. We get to our gate and see The Mean Lady standing there still. We asked if the plane had left yet and she was shocked to see we had made it. Yep, WE MADE IT! We got through the entire airport twice and through security with Amanda’s sweater and my passport all in 20 minutes.

The Mean Lady wanted to measure Amanda’s bag, but we just ran right past her. We got onto the plane at 6:29, sweating like pigs and we’re both crying because we made it.

We landed in Dublin one hour later and toured all of Dublin that day with no sleep, a 20 minute run and a really good story.

Cheers, RyanAir.

Here’s a stunningly beautiful photo of us from after our sprint: