Frustrated Pilot

St. Pancras International Station is just a few bus stops from our hotel.  So going to the station was a breeze.  We arrived at the train station an hour early (our train to Paris leaves at eight in the morning). We decided to look around first and find something to buy to get rid of our coins since we will be dealing with another currency later, the Euro.  We didn’t check-in yet because after immigration, they might restrict us from getting out of the boarding area.  The station is huge.  They have managed to combine modern design and its original Victorian architecture.  It’s beautiful.  It looked five times better that our airport in the Philippines considering it’s a train station.  

Our last bus ride in London

I'm gonna miss the architecture!

Gates of St. Pancras Station

My sisters and I went up the second level to search for British cool stuff.  I bought a big map of the London Underground from a bookstore there.  Expensive, but it’s worth it.  I planned to frame and put it on my  wall.  We saw this massive Olympic Rings near the train platform and took some photos of it. 

Olympic Rings welcoming visitors

My sister Nicole

Me

In the middle of our photo-shoot with the giant Olympic Rings, Nicole checked the time.  It was already 7:30!  We immediately ran to the boarding gates and were surprised to see so many people hurrying to get inside to catch their respective trains.  It was the complete opposite of what’s the situation fifteen minutes earlier.  The lines were sooo long.  I was so scared that we might miss the train especially when  it was my idea to buy last minute souvenirs.

Everything's gonna be okay... right?

Before we can ride the train, we need to get through ticket inspection, baggage inspection, and immigration!  We were all standing in the line panicking.  Luckily they opened a fast lane to those passengers bound for Paris.  We were almost finished with the baggage inspection when the inspector specifically asked for my sister’s rucksack to have it checked again.  He poured out all the contents of it and opened my sister’s cellphone and iPod. We were like, WHAT THE HELL?! Why now? He then swabbed the whole inside of the bag, god knows why.  He knows we were in a hurry since we were from the priority line but no, he swab the damn thing like swabbing was a form of art.  It’s like he was doing it on purpose.  I don’t have problem with random checks (hopefully that was a random one) but that guy is an ass.  

We got at the platform at 7:50 and fell in line at the nearest queue that we saw.  We were so relaxed by then. Hurray, we made it!  In your face, inspector! We were already reminiscing what just happened and laughing about it.  When it’s our turn to board the train, I noticed that it was the wrong coach number.  Ours is coach number 16 located at the other end of the train.  The fear kicked in again.  By this time, we were frantically running like morons.  I wish we got that on tape.  

Anyway, we made it.  But the whole thing was exhausting.  It felt like an Olympic marathon.  Paris better be good.

Paris week will be posted next week :) 

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