Planes, Trains & Automobiles

I'm a biker. I like to ride. But sometimes, you just can’t get the time off. This was the case for me this year, and riding down to Jerez de la Frontera for the HOG Europe Rally wasn’t an option. So I made a deal for a hotel room, and booked flights instead.

Jerez is a small airport that pretty much, from a UK perspective, operates in summer. This means I have limited options in terms of airports and flight times. Still, it’s doable.

Then I had to figure out how to get from London to Stansted by 5am on a Friday.

I looked into taxis, and freaked at the price. I looked at the Stansted Express, and it had potential.

Then, of course, I had to figure out how to get to Liverpool Street Station in time to catch the 4.10am train. From where I live, at that hour, that means Night Buses.Yes, plural.

I would have to wake up at 2.30am. That is never a pleasant thought. I looked into taxis, and freaked at the price. I looked again, and found a voucher that meant I could sleep until 3.30.

So, of course, the train was delayed (over-running engineering works) and I got to Stansted eventually at 5.20am, and attempted to race through Security, with its myriad restrictions and delays and idiots. (Everyone knows the 100ml rule, right? Wrong).

I say attempted because Stansted was packed and the queues wound around and around and around the terminal and came out by a section partially closed for refurbishment.

I found the one free sliver of bench and sat, thanking online check-in and cabin baggage. I waited.

The plane took off late, but landed early.  The man behind me had long legs that kept  bumping me. Possibly also because he had a double Jack and Coke around 7am, once we were air borne.

Then there was another train (one per hour, and I missed it by 5 mins, so had to wait on a platform in 36 degree heat in jeans and boots). Then there was another taxi (this time in Spanish) to get to the hotel.

For all the time it takes, and the frustrations of weather and parking and petrol stations, I prefer to ride. 

I prefer the simplicity of a single mode of transport. 

I prefer to get up at stupid if I’m going to be on my own two wheels. Maybe that’s nuts, or maybe I’m just a biker.