So, today was crazy! I felt certain I would sleep last night and then was still up at 5:00 breathing deeply and calmly. As much as I hated that I was still up getting upset about never helps you fall asleep. After an €80 taxi ride to the airport, I got on my flight with only a small hitch of the plane being 40 minutes late and discovering that I didn't have any more than 40 minutes between my flights. I had only seen that the connecting flight left at 12:20 when I bought it and was ignorant of the fact that the gates would close at 11:50 until I saw my ticket. So I snuck my great big backpack into the cabin (it was too big, but the airport was too small to care enough to stop me). Then we arrive in Stansted with just 30 minutes until the gate closes and I run through a bunch of hoops and get some help from the TSA (they allowed me to go into the fast-track line and skip a bit a paperwork). At the last security check point, where everyone takes off their shoes, things got interesting. Due to the rush, I didn't take my laptop or my toiletries out and they put my bag through twice and both times had to search it to find the error. Me being too honest perhaps said, "I think I know what the problem is," and pointed to the locking blade I had attached to the top of my pack.
That was a mistake for better or for worse. They took my passport and boarding pass and told me to follow them. Then they had me take a seat and wait. I learned half-way through the tense pause that we were indeed waiting for the police. Between the stress, the fatigue and the low blood sugar, it took a lot for me to remain calm, but I did pretty well; better than usual, I think. Luckily, they just filled out a form and had me sign it and warned me that I can't make this mistake again because it wouldn't go so well the next time. Then I wait one more time to get escorted out of the airport (which is also done for anyone who misses their flight fyi).
So after having a seat, eating some of my tiramisu, I'm waiting for inspiration. I walk back and forth outside the airport and try to gauge whether or not it is possible to walk to a hotel or hostel. I decide against it, and after a good hour or 90 minutes of indecisiveness, I found buses from the airport to hotels with a place to buy food right there in front of it. I go in, buy food, chat with someone else in a similar situation and with his help I research my options for the night.
Anyway, now I'm at a Ramada 5 or 10 minutes from the airport and I might already have landed a workaway opportunity 30 miles away.
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