|The Stanstead Airport Incident
||[Dec. 7th, 2006|04:06 pm]
There we were, we stayed up all night, caught the bus to Heathrow, then onto Stanstead, everything was going our way, check in wasn't for a while, score, cigarette, looking at women, big trolly full of equipment, the bag holding my FX about to burst.|
There it was Bologne Forli, Italy, cool, queue.
"Hi there, we paid for these bags already, can you tell us how much the excess will cost?"
"Ok, that'll be £36"
"Ah" I replied.
Fuck, we'd fucked up.
"You'll need to lose 7Kg" Replied the surly check in fella
"You see," I replied, desperate to be as polite as possible "these are guitars, we can't dismantle them, they'd be useless."
"Oh!" I think he grinned "They're musical instruments? Then they'll be £21 each, each way"
So apparently we had to tick a box for musical instruments when we bought the tickets. I moved over to the ticket desk to try and discuss how we could solve the problem.
"Can we be invoiced?"
No we couldn't
Essentially we had to pay for them now, or we wouldn't get onto the plane. There was a place we could leave them. I went to investigate. Per day, Per Item it was around £10 I think either way leaving them for 6 days would cost us a fuckload more.
I turn to Steve "Right, we're going to have to beg for the money"
Steve looks shocked.
So I walk up to someone and explain the situation. No
Again. "No, I don't think so" says the posh suit wearing cunt, as he counted his money. Fuck man, we only needed to make about £10.
Again. "Weall!" Cockney cunt "That tough luck," I replied "You'll die very fucking lonely"
Then some kind gentleman gave us £2 saying he understood.
Another kind family gave us around £1 in change.
A kind woman gave us £2.
We check a cash machine, no luck.
I go speak to a nice Jamacian family and explain the situation, they say they understand but cannot help. So I move on, next thing I know Steve yells out to me. The lovely family had given us £5.
We run to the desk. We hand over the money.
There was 10 minutes to spare before the gate closed.
We breath a sigh of relief.
Everything goes ok.
Plane ride was ok. I read for the most part.
We get to Italy and Tizio our tour manager is there, we explain the situation and he sorts us out with Cigarettes, wine and food.
He is our hero and we sleep all the way to his house.
Later that evening after more sleep, we head over to the house of Giovanna and Nat who cook for us, we are very grateful for the hospitality. Nat turns out to be in The Oxes, so we chat about mutual people we know and end up watching Rambo 2 dubbed in Italian. Then the new South Park episodes.
I sleep soundly that night.
Life tests me sometimes, it really fucking does.