the things I do for friends
Many, MANY years ago, back when I was in college... I had a now ex drop a friend on my couch. A friend who stayed on my couch, illegally in the country, mind you, for three months. I am now glad I can call said illegal (at the time) refugee from England a friend. One who finally went back to England after several years here, one that I haven't seen in.... oh, six seven years.
So after much pleading and reminding that he owed me a couch to sleep on and a ride to the airport, I cancelled my last two nights reservations and agreed to go from Rachel's house in Birmingham to his in Colchester. No big deal, I thought....
until I realized what would now be involved in getting TO London (Highgate specifically. The place I have wanted to visit for 30 years and have a timed tour to) on that Monday. I won't miss out hanging with him because he'll be at work, but it's going to be about three hours round trip by train and between 60-70 pounds to take the train there and back. Whereas the hotel I chose was at a tube station that specifically went right to that area.
*grumbles*
I am not mad, please don't think that. Monday night we'll hang out and get properly pissed, and the next day I won't have to worry about taking the wrong train or missing the right one to Gatwick. So trading a fear for an annoyance I suppose is good.
Just.... It's two weeks out and changing plans on this scale makes me buggy. After I spent three days researching hotels.
So after much pleading and reminding that he owed me a couch to sleep on and a ride to the airport, I cancelled my last two nights reservations and agreed to go from Rachel's house in Birmingham to his in Colchester. No big deal, I thought....
until I realized what would now be involved in getting TO London (Highgate specifically. The place I have wanted to visit for 30 years and have a timed tour to) on that Monday. I won't miss out hanging with him because he'll be at work, but it's going to be about three hours round trip by train and between 60-70 pounds to take the train there and back. Whereas the hotel I chose was at a tube station that specifically went right to that area.
*grumbles*
I am not mad, please don't think that. Monday night we'll hang out and get properly pissed, and the next day I won't have to worry about taking the wrong train or missing the right one to Gatwick. So trading a fear for an annoyance I suppose is good.
Just.... It's two weeks out and changing plans on this scale makes me buggy. After I spent three days researching hotels.