44 Hours Without a Nap

I knew when I rejoined my old company that I would return to the crazy, stressful world of working too much/playing too little/maybe make for a dull Bryan environment. All things considered, I have managed to split time between professional and personal interests reasonably well, although I do have the odd moment where it becomes just a wee bit much, but never dull.

For example, I spent three days in Brussels last week, and was oh so looking forward to having a full week in Germany where I might be able to get some laundry done, eat food out of the fridge before it's gone bad, etc.

Last Friday afternoon, I discovered that I would likely need to spend a day in England during the upcoming week. I discussed the matter with a colleague late Friday evening, and left the decision with him.

Monday morning, he phoned up and instructed me to make plans to be in Colchester for an all day meeting on Wednesday. Er, yesterday Wednesday.

Now, Frankfurt Main has one of the busiest airports in the world, and it's conveniently located about 25 minutes away from my apartment via U-Bahn and S-Bahn. Unfortunately, Frankfurt Main flies only into London Heathrow or London Gatwick, which are the two airports situated furthest away from Colchester. In my previous business trips to Colchester (there's really no need to go there for pleasure), I've flown to Heathrow, then taken a taxi service directly to the office. Price: 110 GBP (or 200+ Dollars) one way for the two to three hour journey.Two to three hours? But it's only 60 miles from London to Colchester! Yes, but you see, there's this little motorway called the M25 (hereafter referred to as perhaps the most awful place on earth to drive) that circles the entire London area. If you're looking at a map of London, specifically the area of the M25, you might note that Gatwick is at 6 o'clock, Heathrow is at 9 o'clock, and Colchester is about 40 miles away from 1:30 off the M25. For about 20 hours a day, the entire motorway is completely congested in both directions, thus the two possibly three hour excursion, traffic permitting (don't forget to tip the cab guy!).

"OK," you might be saying. "But there are two more airports in London, so what about flying into City airport or Stanstead?"

Excellent point. Stanstead is only about 30 minutes away from Colchester, and it's ideal. Except for one thing. Frankfurt Main doesn't FLY into Stanstead. To get to Stanstead from Frankfurt, you have to take a flight out of Frankfurt Hahn Airport. Frankfurt Hahn is inconveniently located two hours away from Frankfurt. In fact, it's almost in Luxemburg. Fortunately, there is a shuttle service from Frankfurt to Frankfurt Hahn Airport.

When booking air travel 24 hours in advance, one's options are limited. I needed to be in Colchester by 9am, pretty much requiring an arrival in London no later than 7.30am. This meant I would have to get myself to Hahn airport for a 6.30am flight. Well, the public transportation is Germany is pretty good, but it's not tailored to Bryan's personal needs.

Thus, after spending way too much time looking at time tables and stuff, I realized that I was going to have to take the shuttle bus from Frankfurt train station or airport at around 2.30am early Wednesday morning. This would put me at Hahn with sufficient time to check in and do the security check.

I knew that I was going to have a tough couple of days, but Monday evening, instead of going to be at a really early hour to catch up on some rest, I find myself getting home this side of midnight.

6am on Tuesday morning, I jumped up, took a shower, did the commute to work thing, and told myself that I would leave early that afternoon in anticipation of the upcoming travel.

Thirteen and a half hours late, I was stepping off at my stop on the U-Bahn talking to my colleague from the UK. Our customer had already met with our account executive, and the story was that our customer was furious, absolutely raging mad with a facet of our business. "Um, just wanted you to have a head's up before you got here," Duncan told me. "I'm going home to try and fix the bathroom in my new house and see if my wife and daughter are feeling any better with their bouts with the flu."

Neat.

Here I was, tired after a long day, faced with more travel in a matter of hours, and the recent recipient of the kind of news that makes you want to change professions. I did what anyone would have done, and walked into my local pub, and sat down for a very nice dinner of schnitzel and a pint. While I was there, I managed to see a couple of friends, and then my account executive called me. "I've just had the worst day of my life. The customer is really really mad. Tomorrow is going to be a rodeo," he said with an absence of cheer.

Suddenly, right behind me in the pub, a rather large dog jumped up from it's spot underneath a table and gave an aggressive "WOOF!" in greeting (or challenge) to another dog that was just coming into the pub with it's owner.

The pub is not large, I've just had a haircut, and I almost fell off of the stool with surprise. My buddy on the other end of the phone quickly asked, "Are you OK? What's happening?"

I gave him a shaky response of OK, but quickly assessed the situation to make sure that I wasn't about to have a foot chewed off.

In the end, both pets found their own little comfort zones, and order was restored.
Except for the fact that in less than 12 hours, I was to meet with a very unhappy customer.

I think the expression is "on the fence." At 9.30pm, I probably should have headed home to take a brief nap before heading to the train station. However, after my woof experience, I was enjoying my evening, and the pub chat was helping me not to think much about the doom and gloom I was soon to face. So, I stayed for another coffee, then at 11pm, stepped out into the plaza and headed the 15 feet to my apartment, looking at the footsteps I was making.

I stopped, looked about, and then just stood for a few minutes enjoying a quiet snow fall. Big, soft flakes were everywhere, and I recalled that I'd really only had this experience a few times in my life. Not terribly surprising, considering the amount of snow in Texas. I savored the peaceful moment, letting the snowflakes fall on and around me.

Alas, I did have somewhere to be, so I left the snow, entered my apartment, and then immediately went through my normal morning routine: shower, shave, dress, pack the backpack, etc. Only it was midnight.

At 12.15am, I was on the metro headed for the main train station, where I would have to wait for the shuttle bus to Hahn airport. Two stops later, I changed my mind, and routed myself instead to Frankfurt Main airport. This Hahn shuttle bus picks up at both places. I elected for the airport, since the train station can be a scary place at night, and furthermore, I wasn't sure if I was going to be able to wait inside the station. Since the bus wasn't to leave until 2.45, I wasn't too excited about sitting outside in the cold for the next two hours.

So, I arrived at the main train station, and found a place to sit quietly not far from where other folks were lounging. An empty airport isn't much fun, especially when all the cafes and shops are closed.

For the next two hours, I tried to keep awake, trying not to think about a warm bed. You see, the U-Bahn shuts down at around 12.30 so I had a two hour gap. Instead of me being able to sit at home in my apartment until the shuttle bus arrived, I had to follow the timetable that was offered.

At 2.45 the bus did arrive, and 12 Euros later I was headed toward Luxemburg on a pretty crowded tourist coach.

At 4am, I got off the bus, stood in the snow for a moment, then scurried inside to the warmth of the building.Hahn Airport is a former American Military Base, and my initial thought was that it resembled a homeless shelter. Tired travellers were camped out all over the facility waiting for flight check in, etc. Of course, this was at 4am.

Things soon started to buzz: a cafe opened, a few RyanAir attendants settled themselves at their desks. After a quick milchkaffee, I checked in, got my boarding pass, and took a seat in the lounge. As you tend to do in situations like this, you hope you can prolong the sleep with just a bit more caffeine. I hoped to try and take a brief nap on the airplane, but not right in the middle of the waiting lounge.

We boarded around 6am, and departed on time at 6.30am. The flight is really only about an hour and ten minutes, but I would pick up an hour upon arrival in the UK..

For most of the flight, I kept dropping my news magazine and making the odd noise like "wabba hazza zibbit" as my body started losing functionality for lack of sleep.

I started awake as we touched down in London, and the walk across the jetway to the arrival lounge helped to wake me up.

Quick pass through customs, and soon I was greeting my taxi guy who would take me on to the office. We didn't chat much on the drive, but once or twice I said, "wabba zizza halla."

40 minutes later, I was walking in the front door of the repair facility. Soon it would be time for the real fun; the customer would arrive in another hour.

I'll spare the details, but it was a day of polystyrene beakers of tea (for only 20p), a rather civil, productive meeting with the customer, and a few moments where I dozed during the afternoon. Much less of a rodeo that we were expecting. We certainly have challenges to overcome, but the sky is simply not falling as we'd thought the previous evening.

As I've already mentioned, I didn't begin the week thinking I'd be spending 12 hours in Colchester on Wednesday, but sometimes it's better just not to think, eh?

I wouldn't say I caught a second wind, but as my body struggled (and asked me in a various ways, "just what the hell are you doing to me today?"), I mentally felt that I could survive a few more hours until I got back to Frankfurt. OK, that also meant a few more coffees, but I even managed to start reading a new book as I waited for my return flight.

Pause while I make a statement about Ryan Air. They have a little program where if you book your ticket online, then you become a priority passenger, which has the important significance of allowing you to board the airplane before the other passengers. This is particularly helpful in the cattle car situation that Ryan Air operates: there are no seat assignments, simply every passenger for themselves. You might recall how little fun that was on the school bus, and your average business traveller is much less tolerate than an 8th grader.


We departed on time from Stanstead, I thrashed about in and out of consciousness (reread sleep deprivation comments above then add an arm wave or two) during the flight, and we arrived 20 minutes early in Hahn Airport. This proved fortuitous, because I, as a really really tired priority traveller, got to exit the plane very quickly, run across the jet way, get through passport control, then run outside to get on the shuttle bus back to Frankfurt city. Had my flight arrived on scheduled arrival time, I would have had to wait almost another hour for the next shuttle bus. Thus, instead of arriving back to Frankfurt Hauptbahnhof at 3.15am, I arrived back at 2am. I found a taxi, and 15 minutes later was having a few pieces of toast in my own place.

I almost decided to stay up the rest of the night, but wisely got into bed, only to jump up at 6 and force myself into the shower.

Here at work today, I've fared OK. Tired? Absolutely. Can I leave early? Absolutely not. Some idiot (er, I think it was me) arranged for me to visit with a possible German teacher this evening, so I don't believe I will really get home until 9 or 9.30pm.

But things are going just fine, save for the odd "wubba hozza" that has twice come out of my mouth in the hallway.

Now, you'll have to excuse me. I've got to sign off and refill my coffee cup. I apologize if after reading this some of you feel the need for a nap. When I started writing a post I really just meant to say, "Hi, I was in England yesterday..."

tschüs
bryan