Irish #20 - Mission to the Moon 2 - London After Dead
Is there any better conclusion to an exhausting mission than a good sleep and a good shooting?
As much as my chief problem with the Newyorkers was the primal chaos and overwhelming unruliness of the company hosting me, my chief problem in London was staying awake. I flew there from Dublin directly after a weekend in Poland, which can hardly be called a relax time (except two definitely-too-short parts of it). Two flights over most of Europe. Two lengthy car trips. More than half the Saturday acting sure and nice and bold to cheer up me pops before his cancer surgery (today). Not much sleep - it seems I might have to look for faster ways to get a credit card and switch to Ryanair in order to use my weekends properly... An evening of lots of fun but also ways too much smokes (beer is a healthy thing, mind you) - so in result, during my transfer in Dublin airport my head was already killing me.
Not for me the abundant luxuries of all-night sleep, though. The plane to take me to The Land of the Brits has been struck by a lightning before it even took off from Gatwick, so the airlines had to find another aircraft and, more importantly, the crew (which is why I sat in the plane for almost an hour between boarding and take off). Also, for the first time in more than a year, I had to wake up before 8am. It turned out to be just this little bit too much. All the day me and another QA tester (who's been living in London for last three years) were tutored through various operations, more or less painfully performed with one so-called "Next generation post-trade management tool for derivatives" and numerous support tools without which the bold tool would be almost perfectly useless. During those sessions I mostly focused on keeping my head straight and pretending I'm quite present. Not without a success, I even managed to ask some sense-making questions and take some notes. But it was a real hell. I hardly noticed the interestingness of brokers' open space ().
In evening I woke up a bit so I went for a wee bit o'sightseeing around my hotel (one of the most snobbish in the city - I really would prefer to stay in some humbler place and get the costs difference for myself). "Around my hotel" means more or less >>here<< [link to be added when I upload my trophies to Picasa].
I knew that if I want to take any night photos in the city, it must be now. Tuesday night was already reserved for something better and I planned to catch up with sleeping the last night of the mission.
So, Tuesday was quite similar to Monday. Except the horrible headache from oversmoking finally departed. And the lunch was almost like one of those in NYC (fajitas). I was actually afraid about the evening. Set up a meeting with friends I haven't seen since August and it already looked like a disaster (creeping zombie is not much of an entertaining companion, you know).
Surprisingly enough, I woke up after a shower back in the hotel, again (though I felt even more trashed then the day before). I did NOT lose my way in the Underground (its designers must have been the best customers of the local acid dealers and some time ago a friend suggested I could use "Ryouga" as an additional nickname) and finally the evening in Soho and a bit o'Chinatown turned to be just great, including a pint of the Red Guinness and a pile of good sushi I could barely stomach (I found the price ridiculously low, I could make my company pay for us all XD). Even the rainfall was not much of a nuisance, as it was unusually warm and quiet for the Islands (I couldn't take any photos outdoors though).
In the meantime, my colleague managed to move our departure to Wednesday, so instead of sleeping I was packing up. I start to think if I don't get promoted at the end of my probation, I'm quitting this job. Being a senior tester, he became kinda in charge, so it was quick and easy to arrange the flight to fit his own interest (the change allowed him to meet his girlfriend, coming from New Zealand to live with him in Ireland, and fly with her the last stage of her journey). I wouldn't resent it too much if not for the fact in result I had to go through a short but noteworthy airport nightmare.
We flew from Stansted to Derry. With Ryanair. With fucking Ryanair I already hate for horrible pressure jumps during flight and general discomfort so gross it definitely is note made up for by their prices (actually Aer Lingus is not so much more expensive). Train trip to Stansted wasn't bad, even though I dreamt with my eyes open and in upright position during half of it. The countryside was really nice.
But. At the airport I went straight (well, er, almost...) to the queue to our flight's check-in desk. I was very, very tired and quite footsore already. After half an hour of queueing I was told me suitcase weighs 4 kilos too much and I need to pay an additional luggage charge of 30 pounds (!!!). And I cannot pay at the check-in desk. Just to make sure, I asked if I can pay with me Laser debit card. I really felt like asking, no ticket dispenser in London accepted Laser. At the ticket office I heard they don't accept it as well, but the nearest ATM is just across whole terminal. Mumbling some curses I trudged to and fro, just to find the clerk happily chatting with some guy. Pushing in front I managed to do my payment quickly, then queued another half-hour. Just then I saw me colleague with his luff. The time I wasted, he spent changing from the suit required in the office we worked at to some comfortable casuals. The girl at the desk asked me whether I was checking in with her.
- No, I didn't but your colleague doesn't seem to be here.
- Well, you need to continue your check-in at the same desk, I'm afraid.
- And get through all the queue again?! #=____=;
- Er, no, just get in front. Sorry about that.
- ...
The flight itself was just the usual Ryanair chokablock and my ears trying to burst, concluded with properly hard landing and sharp slow-down (caught by surprise, I nearly banged my head against the seat in front of me). We landed in the middle of nowhere. It turned out there was a car booked by our company to pick us up from the airport and drop us back in Letterkenny. However, me colleague was the only one to receive the e-mail and of course he didn't confirm the lift. In result, the driver either forsook us or went to Belfast instead. His comment was short and brilliant: "Typical Pramerica, a fuckup again". Well, bro, people usually confirm lifts and such stuff, just in case someone forgot something or got confused.
After all this fun, evem our team-lead's proposition to be lax about coming early to work on Thursday, I simply took a day off. Even after sleeping till 10am I still felt like a rubbish bin heavily battered by Donegal winds. In the afternoon I recovered enough to go for yet another photo trek around Letterkenny. Results on Picasa soon.
____
Another note in English. There's got to be something wrong with me again o___O;
As much as my chief problem with the Newyorkers was the primal chaos and overwhelming unruliness of the company hosting me, my chief problem in London was staying awake. I flew there from Dublin directly after a weekend in Poland, which can hardly be called a relax time (except two definitely-too-short parts of it). Two flights over most of Europe. Two lengthy car trips. More than half the Saturday acting sure and nice and bold to cheer up me pops before his cancer surgery (today). Not much sleep - it seems I might have to look for faster ways to get a credit card and switch to Ryanair in order to use my weekends properly... An evening of lots of fun but also ways too much smokes (beer is a healthy thing, mind you) - so in result, during my transfer in Dublin airport my head was already killing me.
Not for me the abundant luxuries of all-night sleep, though. The plane to take me to The Land of the Brits has been struck by a lightning before it even took off from Gatwick, so the airlines had to find another aircraft and, more importantly, the crew (which is why I sat in the plane for almost an hour between boarding and take off). Also, for the first time in more than a year, I had to wake up before 8am. It turned out to be just this little bit too much. All the day me and another QA tester (who's been living in London for last three years) were tutored through various operations, more or less painfully performed with one so-called "Next generation post-trade management tool for derivatives" and numerous support tools without which the bold tool would be almost perfectly useless. During those sessions I mostly focused on keeping my head straight and pretending I'm quite present. Not without a success, I even managed to ask some sense-making questions and take some notes. But it was a real hell. I hardly noticed the interestingness of brokers' open space ().
In evening I woke up a bit so I went for a wee bit o'sightseeing around my hotel (one of the most snobbish in the city - I really would prefer to stay in some humbler place and get the costs difference for myself). "Around my hotel" means more or less >>here<< [link to be added when I upload my trophies to Picasa].
I knew that if I want to take any night photos in the city, it must be now. Tuesday night was already reserved for something better and I planned to catch up with sleeping the last night of the mission.
So, Tuesday was quite similar to Monday. Except the horrible headache from oversmoking finally departed. And the lunch was almost like one of those in NYC (fajitas). I was actually afraid about the evening. Set up a meeting with friends I haven't seen since August and it already looked like a disaster (creeping zombie is not much of an entertaining companion, you know).
Surprisingly enough, I woke up after a shower back in the hotel, again (though I felt even more trashed then the day before). I did NOT lose my way in the Underground (its designers must have been the best customers of the local acid dealers and some time ago a friend suggested I could use "Ryouga" as an additional nickname) and finally the evening in Soho and a bit o'Chinatown turned to be just great, including a pint of the Red Guinness and a pile of good sushi I could barely stomach (I found the price ridiculously low, I could make my company pay for us all XD). Even the rainfall was not much of a nuisance, as it was unusually warm and quiet for the Islands (I couldn't take any photos outdoors though).
In the meantime, my colleague managed to move our departure to Wednesday, so instead of sleeping I was packing up. I start to think if I don't get promoted at the end of my probation, I'm quitting this job. Being a senior tester, he became kinda in charge, so it was quick and easy to arrange the flight to fit his own interest (the change allowed him to meet his girlfriend, coming from New Zealand to live with him in Ireland, and fly with her the last stage of her journey). I wouldn't resent it too much if not for the fact in result I had to go through a short but noteworthy airport nightmare.
We flew from Stansted to Derry. With Ryanair. With fucking Ryanair I already hate for horrible pressure jumps during flight and general discomfort so gross it definitely is note made up for by their prices (actually Aer Lingus is not so much more expensive). Train trip to Stansted wasn't bad, even though I dreamt with my eyes open and in upright position during half of it. The countryside was really nice.
But. At the airport I went straight (well, er, almost...) to the queue to our flight's check-in desk. I was very, very tired and quite footsore already. After half an hour of queueing I was told me suitcase weighs 4 kilos too much and I need to pay an additional luggage charge of 30 pounds (!!!). And I cannot pay at the check-in desk. Just to make sure, I asked if I can pay with me Laser debit card. I really felt like asking, no ticket dispenser in London accepted Laser. At the ticket office I heard they don't accept it as well, but the nearest ATM is just across whole terminal. Mumbling some curses I trudged to and fro, just to find the clerk happily chatting with some guy. Pushing in front I managed to do my payment quickly, then queued another half-hour. Just then I saw me colleague with his luff. The time I wasted, he spent changing from the suit required in the office we worked at to some comfortable casuals. The girl at the desk asked me whether I was checking in with her.
- No, I didn't but your colleague doesn't seem to be here.
- Well, you need to continue your check-in at the same desk, I'm afraid.
- And get through all the queue again?! #=____=;
- Er, no, just get in front. Sorry about that.
- ...
The flight itself was just the usual Ryanair chokablock and my ears trying to burst, concluded with properly hard landing and sharp slow-down (caught by surprise, I nearly banged my head against the seat in front of me). We landed in the middle of nowhere. It turned out there was a car booked by our company to pick us up from the airport and drop us back in Letterkenny. However, me colleague was the only one to receive the e-mail and of course he didn't confirm the lift. In result, the driver either forsook us or went to Belfast instead. His comment was short and brilliant: "Typical Pramerica, a fuckup again". Well, bro, people usually confirm lifts and such stuff, just in case someone forgot something or got confused.
After all this fun, evem our team-lead's proposition to be lax about coming early to work on Thursday, I simply took a day off. Even after sleeping till 10am I still felt like a rubbish bin heavily battered by Donegal winds. In the afternoon I recovered enough to go for yet another photo trek around Letterkenny. Results on Picasa soon.
____
Another note in English. There's got to be something wrong with me again o___O;