On Thursday morning as I reluctantly woke up for an early flight, I was greeted by the anticipated blizzard that meteorologists had predicted. I thought for sure, my flight would be canceled since countless others were…but it wasn’t. I literally couldn’t believe it and was prepared for anything…but clearly not prepared for what the day would bring. 24 hours of hellish travel for one London flight, Oy vey.
I got bumped to First Class and it was amazing. Like sleeping in your own bed on a plane. The only problem here was that my flight was delayed. The plane tried to take off at its declared time of 9am, but had to come back to the gate to be “de-iced”. Yeah, that does not sound good whatsoever. Then we tried to take off again and the runway was busy…basically around 12pm we tried to take off again and then we were told if we don’t depart by 12:20pm we won’t make Heathrow Airport’s stupid curfew. We ended up not making it and my flight was cancelled. It took me over an hour to claim my checked luggage and then I got booked on a 6pm flight out of Newark…as in New Jersey. I had to run there, starving and tired. Finally, when I did get there they couldn’t locate my ticket number, then security dug through all my bags. At this point, I found it all so terrible that it was funny…
Finally landed. So tired after en route for 24 hours. My car service could not be located after 30 minutes of searching. I was so tired I called an uber and then when he finally arrived I was sobbing. I was a hot mess.
After I settled into my lonely hotel room on Valentines Day (of all days) I went out to meet my friend Irene at the London Edition Hotel. The winds were INSANE. Like, so insane. 3 people died from it that night. It was like some sort of Harry Potter spell or something.