My way home

Well, not sure if it's so funny really, but I needed get you here. It all started in Auckland. We got there with Jan and Lukas the evening before my flight home, even found the parking for students where you can park for free about which had czech Daniel told me few days before. So far so good.
But in the morning, despite being very early, the parking was totally crowded. Instead of driving to a backpacker we had to carry all our stuff, and you have seen my huge suit case, haven't you? Then it started pissing. We made it to the ABC backpacker or what the hell is the huge one called more sweat than soaked. And? Because of electricity failure, all backpackers where in dark and not letting any people in. Sweet, two days journey over half of the globe ahead of me and I couldn't even took shower after two nights sleeping in my van. I got to the airport 45 minutes before the check-in close, need to take shower, I wasn't sure if there is any, and re-pack my bag to suit case. Unbelievably I did it, had to left my shoe in the door so at least I could see something and during packing my stuff everyone around get familiar with content of my luggage, but I was happy. Flight to Hong Kong was fine, I was sleeping most of the time after the Auckland adventure. However another surprise was already waiting for me.

When I was waiting for my connection to London my friend rang me to my big surprise. "Where are you?", she asked. "Well, where I should be, at the airport in Hong Kong", still without suspicion.
"What, you told me you coming over today, I'm waiting for you in Totnes!". "Shit, you have Monday already?", becoming conscious. You know, this fucking time zones, I just calculated it wrong. Shit happens. I don't mind that the bus from London I booked ticket for is on its way while I'm still in Hong Kong, but I'm going after this huge trip down to Devon for one afternoon? I was so pissed of, I'm never so pissed of as if fuck something, never hate other people if they fuck me as I hate myself. I couldn't sleep from HK to London. But the story is still not coming to its the end.

I got to London, take the same bus but one day later and was ok. On my way we exchanged few sms messages with my friend concerning connection bus from Totnes to Kingsbridge. It turned out it should be quite close, 10 mins gap. Hmm, sounds good, bus was on time. And then, one mile before Totnes, the bus stopped, we were told to remove ourselves from the bus (the drivers were repulsive dicks) because left front tyre was in fire. Cool. I missed my connection. Another two hours down from my only afternoon with my friend, waiting in Totnes. It was late afternoon when we finally met in Kingsbridge. I was expecting short drive to her place, but it was another hour. For christ sake. Despite all, we managed to made short trip around the coast and have dinner in pub.

The next day I had to set off early, my return bus to London and flight to Prague were booked and I didn't want to waste more tickets. Everything was fine this time, except instead of going from Heathrow to where I had return ticket to Gatwick directly, I went to Victoria and from Victoria to Gatwick. It didn't struck me before I saw the bus with direction Gatwick when the bus I was sitting in was leaving Heathrow. It was the first time I flew to Prague from Gatwick, I am used to fly from Stansted. It happened I underestimated the time needed to get to Gatwick and made it to check-in five minutes before closing, completely sweat, nerveous and already thinking I was gonna miss that flight. Uff.

The flight to Prague was half an hour shorter than bus from Victoria to Gatwick. Ridiculous. Prague was hot. Very hot. I recharged my mobile using an ATM at the airport and set off home. It was half past eleven in the evening when I found myself in front of my house without keys. Sure, who would take keys from home when go travelling for a year. Shit. Checked my mobile and the credit still not there. Fuck, I couldn't even make a call. I took a taxi to my brother's place. I rang his house bell for about 15 minutes continuosly without any success. Shit. I found few coins and try phone booth which was quit close. Exhausted, pulling all my luggage in the fucking heat I realised everything was against me. Phone booth was broken. Desperate I asked a girl passing by for a call from her mobile. "You don't run away with it, do you?" Sweet home. I called my mam, she rang my brother, woke him up (yes, he was at home!!) and he let me in. At two o'clock in the night I was in bed. Why, for christ sake, did I leave New Zealand. Does it make any sense? Would you believe it?