With a few hours to kill before, yet another, flight there isn't much to do but sit around and watch Rick and Morty in the hostel's living room. Sure we could have ventured out into London and saw a museum or another landmark but sometimes you need to know when to just slow down and take a rest.
Since we arrived in London I had been craving pasty's from West Cornwall Pasty Co. They're like a fastfood company but damn tasty, definitely better then the 1.5P ones I had been eating from the supermarkets up until then. I knew that there was one in Victoria Station so after EJ and I got dressed and were settled in the common room I told him that I was going to walk down there to get food and if he wanted anything. Despite refusing to eat the supermarket ones he said to get him a pasty too. I figured at the very least I'd get a bonus one to take home or eat on the way to the flight.
I wandered the damp streets of London until I got to Victoria Station (it was about half a mile away from our hostel), grabbed two pasty's which came out to 10 quid and then decided to stop at the mega Sainsbury as well. It was hard to resist not picking up one of everything to bring home but I settled on a few packs of scones, some fresh olive rolls that looked amazing, and a couple waters to go with the pasty. I was a little miffed when I got there and saw that they were selling smaller versions for only 1.5 quid but later was glad to have spent the extra money.
Back in the hostel I handed EJ his pasty and drink, opening the grapes I picked up as well and settled into the couch to watch Rick and Morty and eat breakfast. He was wary at first, asking what was in it (steak, potato, onion) but after the first bite I knew he was hooked. When he finished the whole thing he turned to me and said, "where has this been the whole trip? Why are we only getting this now?!" I laughed and explained to him that we just weren't near one this whole time. He told me that he regretted not trying more kinds of English food even after I tried to explain that he didn't miss much.
Well fed and happy we started to think about getting to the airport. With the transit strike I considered Uber'ing it to the airport but the quote of 75 pounds was a tough pill to swallow when the express train was only 40 and would get us there in the same time. I purchased our express train tickets online instead and we made our way to the train station despite being nearly 5 hours ahead of our flight.
It was a good thing we were though. We arrived at Victoria Station and the docile stir that I witnessed while picking up breakfast was now a voracious roar. There were people everywhere and each sign I looked at said that the Express Train to Gatwick was cancelled due to signal failure. The 1pm, 1:30, 2, and 2:30 were all cancelled already and who knows what was going to happen to the later ones. We followed the sea of people to a local train that was also going to Gatwick.
There are few experiences I've had along my travels where I found myself contemplating murdering everyone around me or killing myself to escape them. I'd say the only transportation experience I've had that was worse was my flight to South Africa. We were crammed in, bags and all, with a few dozen other people in a space that could probably only fit 6 comfortably. The heat was on and between that and the bodies I thought that I may faint from dehydration. My jacket was soaked with sweat by the time I managed to shimmy out of it after the 4th stop of our 10 stop journey. I don't know how EJ did it with his jacket on the whole time.
Finally at the airport we stood outside to enjoy the cool crisp London air. It was such a welcome relief after our ride there and it was nice to avoid all the other people who were either running to catch a flight they were late for or running to rebook a flight they missed on the slow train ride there. Thankfully we were right on time so we were able to check our bags, get through security, do a little shopping and relax before the flight.
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