Sitting on the aeroplane in Frankfurt bound for Seoul ready for take off, and I finally started to relax. My prospective employer needed me out there ASAP, and so wanted everything to be done yesterday. The stress of getting the work visa rushed through and trying to organise a suitable flight at the last minute and transport to the airport had all taken its toll. It even involved a family friend posing as my aunt to pick up my passport from the embassy in Dublin so I could get it from her in the relay race to the airport. But now I was here, the journey was becoming real and all the drama was behind me.
I closed my eyes and breathed a sigh of relief. Until...the captain announced over the intercom. “Excuse me ladies und gentlemen, unfortunately it appears zat we haff eine small problem with ze engine. We shall haff zis problem remedied as soon as possible. Danke schoen.”
Oh. Balls.
“God don't do this to me!” I mentally shook my fist at the sky. Lulling me into a false sense of security and then hitting me with this fresh wave of drama was a cruel move by Lady Luck. The window of time to get my connecting flight from Seoul was quite small. I only had about 2 hours from when I landed to get my luggage, travel across the city to a different airport, repeat the process of checking my bags and going through security.
If we were delayed, I might miss my flight from Seoul to Ulsan....waiting in quiet desperation I did have a thought that relieved my worries somewhat. Knowing how meticulous the Germans are, they wouldn't let the aeroplane leave the runway unless everything was absolutely, 100% perfect. If this had happened in Dublin, everyone from the pilot to the air-hostesses to the toilet cleaners would've given their speech about why it had broken and the best way to fix it and would've probably ended with a spray of WD40 and a wad of chewing gum. At least here, I would be guaranteed to make it to my final destination safely. Even if I broke down into a nervous wreck as soon as we landed.
Eventually, after an agonising hour of waiting, we lifted in to the air with me clutching my seat in cold panic. How the hell was I supposed to make my flight on time? I hardly slept on the flight, my niggling fears gnawing at my thoughts.
When we finally landed it was 12:40 p.m.. My flight was at 2:10 p.m. Incheon airport in Seoul is one of those hyper-airports where you need to take a train from terminal to terminal. As I waited for the train with snakes in my stomach I watched the minutes speed by. Getting to the baggage claim was a journey in itself. I looked on desperately as suitcase after suitcase rolled past. No sign of my big, purple monster. Twenty minutes ticked by. I was sweating bullets.
My suitcase wasn't on the flight, I was sure of it. I was supposed to pick it up in Frankfurt and check it on. And now it was left all alone being prodded at by suspicious German police. And I would be left all alone in Seoul with no luggage, no flight and no way of contacting anybody.
But suddenly, my suitcase appeared, majestically rising above the other brown and black dullards in all its violet, spotted glory. I lunged and ran.
Puffing up to information I found out which bus to get to Gimpo airport and bought a ticket. It was a 30 minute journey. I wondered was it completely pointless even buying a bus ticket. I'd arrive just in time to see my plane take off. With a heavy heart and an even heavier suitcase I panted towards the bus.
As I got on, I decided that I had two choices. I could spend the next half an hour working myself into a lather of hysteria, or I could pray and hope the universe would take care of this lost soul for once, and expect a miracle. I sat down, closed my eyes and started to pray. Even though it was the panicked “Pleasegodpleasegodpleasegod” variety of prayer, I felt it was a little bit more constructive than worrying.
Eventually, we arrived at the airport. I jogged into the domestic airport, hoping not to be derailed by my two-wheeled behemoth, and found the check-in desks. There were lengthy queues ahead of me. It was now 1:55 p.m. My flight was in 15 minutes. There was no way they were going to let me check-in and go through security at this late stage. I was going to be laughed out of the place.
Still, I valiantly approached one of the passing members of staff and prayed for mercy. God loves a tryer.
“Eh, excuse me” I faltered, asking an agreeable looking lady who smiled sweetly at me. “I need to get my flight to Ulsan, is there any way..?” Her eyes widened in shock. “Ulsan?” She repeated. “Ten past two?!” She looked at her watch. “Eh, yes.” I admitted, embarrassed. Just leave now, I thought to myself. It's not going to happen. But her face changed from sweet and polite to a look of steely determination.
“Follow me” she instructed. Yes, ma'am! This was clearly a woman who knew how to get shit done.
She trotted briskly over to a computer and began typing furiously. After about a minute, she looked up and said “This way.” She ran over to the check-in desks and hopped behind a free computer. She began typing furiously again while instructing a nearby young man in swift Korean. He lifted my suitcase with ease and popped it on to the conveyor belt. Meanwhile, wonder-woman was now radioing someone and speaking very quickly. A swift swipe of my passport and she was printing my boarding pass! I couldn't believe what was happening.
She handed me the boarding pass, smiling sweetly and said “You need to go to Gate 8” highlighting it. “Run.” I did.
I fled towards security and began unpacking my laptop and whatever liquids were in my carry-on. I was so panicked I may as well have had hooks for hands. There was a lovely young man at security upon seeing my distress began to help me unpack. But he seemed to reach the same level of panic as me so we both fumbled the items in and out of my bag, like a slapstick duo but eventually got it through the x-ray machine. I flung my belongings back into my bag and sped towards the boarding gate. Suddenly I heard a roar from behind me. “HEY! HEEEY!!” I looked back. The man behind me in the queue was holding up my now defunct bus ticket. He evidently thought it was important as he was waving it frantically at me and bellowing. I bolted back, grabbed it from him with a quick thanks and took off again. “GO!! GOOOO!!” He screamed after me. I know he meant well, but if I missed my flight I was going back and lining his intestinal walls with that bloody bus ticket.
Suddenly, my mobile phone slipped out of my sweaty hands and shattered into about seven pieces on the floor. This never-ending nightmare was going to be the end of me. I wonder has anyone ever just given up and decided to live at the airport? This whole travelling business clearly wasn't working for me. Maybe this was the universe's way of saying “Stay put. Stop moving around so much.” It mightn't be so bad. I'd have all the facilities I needed. I could meet people from all around the world without having to move at all. It could be a convenient yet quirky lifestyle. It would suit me down to the ground.
Dreams of domestic terminal bliss aside, I soldiered on. I had to make it now. I'd come so far. I scrabbled for my phone and sped on towards the gate. I barely paused to thrust my boarding pass to the airport staff and then dive-bombed on to the waiting bus.
As I was seated on the plane, I looked around. The flight was half empty. There was nobody sitting near me. And I started to giggle. Silent, hysterical giggles. The intense relief was giving me a dizzying head-rush! I couldn't believe I had made it. It seemed impossible. But here I was. Finally.
A peaceful 45 minutes later, we descended into the city of Ulsan, my new home. Waiting for me at arrivals were my new co-workers, Jean from America and Albert from South Africa and my sister who I hadn't seen in 18 months. We both delighted in the randomness at our unexpected reunion. Who knew when I said goodbye to her in Heathrow airport all that time ago that I would see her again in South Korea?!
So, the four of us piled into a taxi towards my new apartment. I would be sharing the building with Jean and Albert. This new city was a blur of colour and strange symbols. Everyone was pointing out landmarks and points of interest but my mind was so overloaded I took nothing in.
Shortly after, we arrived at my new pad, with Albert being the token gentleman and lugging my purple monster up two flights of stairs. After showing me around and giving me the key, I was left to get some rest. Collapsing on to the bed, I passed out minutes later. Exploration could wait.
