We’ve made it through the first one. I have Ian at my side, we’ve been training together. The chef looks friendly enough, I guess. We’re going to London and no matter how scary everyone makes this flight out to be, we’re excited! So we silently finish our briefing and we march over to the Boeing 777 that’s taking us to the UK.
On board we start our security searches, Ian will be in the cabin and I’ll be in the galley, on the return sector we will swap. So I’ve changed into my chef’s uniform and I’ve started breaking seals and checking the carts. Our guests board about 10 minutes later and we start serving welcome drinks. Hayyakum.
“Cabin crew seats for departure” and we’re off. All smiles. Can’t believe I’m going to be by myself next time.
7 hours later I’m sealing all the carts that stay on board, my mind is rushing knowing that this is the last time I have someone to show me how and what. Chef reassures me that it’ll all make sense and that we will get used to it. We rush to the economy galley and we sit down as quick as we can, buckle up and ready for landing.
Ian and I are determined to see some of London. Th crew think we are nuts, but we’re suppi’s, we don’t know much. So once were finally checked in, I start the walk to my hotel room. This place is creepy. Long dimly lit hallways and quiet rooms, looks like it could have been a hospital ages ago, but instead of white tiles, light brown carpet fills the hallways and the rooms. I rush myself out of my uniform and into London weather-proof clothes. Gotta get out of this place.
Ian meets me downstairs in shorts, this isn’t exactly bikini weather, so he goes back upstairs. Finally after figuring out how to get into the city, we find ourselves on a big red bus back to the airport. We have to catch a train to Piccadilly Circus. At the airport train station, we find the nearest thing that looks like it could spit out a train ticket, but we’re soon met by an “Assistant” to help us get a handy little card called an Oyster Card (weird) for public transport in London. And about 5 minutes later were on a train.
And about 45 minutes later we’re still on a train.
Finally we get off and we walk straight onto what looks like the Times Square of London. And it’s raining, of course! Damn I’m starving, Ian is determined to have Fish & Chips. So we start to walk around. And its still raining. I find myself in a bookstore asking a girl where to go have dinner, she points us in the right direction and after two hours of running around the streets of London, we finally decide to eat at a small little random place we found. Two plates of battered fish and soggy chips later, we are once again getting rained on.
The nearest taxi picks us up and were taken to the Big Ben, smack right next to it. Problem is, it’s dark out, there are no other taxis around us now and, you guessed it, it’s raining. So we’ve made peace with the fact that our socks inside our shoes are soaked in the little puddles of water we’re carrying with us, the map we had is now paper mache and we have no idea where we are or how to get back to the train station. The lady standing next to us at the bus stop is giggling at us as Ian and I are laughing so hard our stomachs hurt. So he starts counting down.. 3, 2, 1 and we’re sprinting down the street in the general direction of somewhere else.
We are now taking pictures and we’re drenched and loving London. Ah finally, a taxi. The taxi driver laughs at our state and drops us at the train station. I have to fight to stay awake, bed will be good. 45 minutes later and we’re back on the big red bus to the hotel.
Luckily I am way too tired to care about the ghosts who haunt this creepy place, I turn my AC down as far as it will go and I cuddle up for a good nights sleep. Sweet bliss.