Heathrow Hell

Last week, I had the bittersweet opportunity to visit London, (England) for the first time, on a presumably several hour stopover. The plan was to arrive early morning to Heathrow airport and depart the same evening. I’m not sure if people in Toronto followed the news but I happened to be there on December 18^th when a “massive” snowstorm hit Europe. “Massive”… right. Ten inches of snow later and the airport is closed, the subway barely works and there are no hotels left in the city. I would like to tell you all about this little adventure of mine because if we’re going to take a class about every day life, well we should probably take into account the not so every day things that happen too.

The one thing that saved me on this four-day ordeal was the kindness of strangers. On a three-hour trip from downtown to the airport that should have only taken 45 minutes, I befriended a young Australian woman living in London and we decided to stick together no matter what. The subway had closed and we were left stranded in a suburb with dozens of other people also trying to get to the airport. The scene once we arrived was total chaos. By then, the terminals had been closed for several hours and there was no information as to what would become of us (as in those of us who did not live in or around London…). Nothing. That’s what would happen, nothing. The lines were hours long for taxis, hotels and food. By 9pm, most people had claimed a spot on the floor of the terminal and there was barely room left to stand. Realizing that there was nowhere for me to go but the floor, the woman I’d only just met, took me in. She brought me to her home where, her too-small couch to me became plush featherbed at the Four Seasons.

The next day, waking with all organs still in their cavities, I was determined to get a flight out. My plans were crushed however, as by early morning, full airport closures were announced. To the British Museum I went! Not to mention the purchasing of warm clothing…

It took me four days to get on a flight out… and the last day went something like this. The departure terminals had been closed to all who did not have guaranteed seats for the past three days and those like me, whose flights had been cancelled, had to wait until at least the 26^th of December to get on a flight out. By that day I was absolutely determined to leave. I went to the airport and somehow managed to fool a distressed Air Canada worker into letting me wait near the building. A very kind Air Canada employee found me looking absolutely pathetic in the cold and for some reason or another (I think he said I looked like his daughter) took pity on me and snuck me into the terminal. By some miracle, I got on a stand-by for a flight to Toronto and managed to leave within hours. If it weren’t for this ever so kind man, I probably would still be stuck in London! And if it weren’t for that lovely woman, I probably would have waited for that flight out on a cold airport floor.