Why do I do this to myself? This was my brilliant plan for the day I left Portugal:
- 3:15 a.m. Wake up
- 4 a.m. Shuttle pick-up to Faro airport
- 6:30 a.m. Flight from Faro to Brussels
- 10:10 a.m. 10-hour layover in Brussels begins
- 8:50 p.m. Flight from Brussels to Warsaw
Why did I think that I would feel like running around Brussels after a jam-packed two weeks of traveling and after waking up at three in the morning? My idiotic logic strikes again!
Needless to say, I was not a happy camper in the morning. There were almost tears. At least I got a little sleep on the plane, but nothing solid. The little girl sitting behind me, kicking my seat and singing made-up songs about Ryan Air sure as hell didn’t help.
At least my experience with Ryan Air wasn’t bad – aside from all the fees, that is. Thankfully, they had separate lines for each destination at the airport which puts them past the cluster#%&@ easyJet prefers to operate in. And I gotta give it to the Ryan Air on-flight staff, they really push their merchandize. Through my sleepy slumber, I caught at least one enthusiastic announcement promoting some watch they were selling.
I got off the flight in Brussels – after an excited trumpet solo blasted over the speakers on the plane to celebrate our landing (make that our on-time landing) – and tried to figure out what to do:
- Brussels is an hour bus ride away from Charleroi airport
- The bus ticket lady was only accepting cash
- I had 15 euros in my wallet and $7 USD in my bank account
- The bus ticket was 13 euros each way
In the end I just got the one-way bus ticket to Brussels and hoped that I could exchange whatever Polish zloty I still had in my wallet in the city for enough euros to get me back to the airport. And hopefully use my credit card for anything else.
I dumped my huge backpack into a locker at the airport – lucky number 13 to be exact – and headed to Brussels with my heavy carry-on bag (8 kg to be exact).