The worst is over..

There was a satellite picture of the UK showing it as a single-colored country. That colour was white.
Right after New Year’s Eve weather warnings were daily announced due to a sequence of low pressures zones which seemed to very much like stopping by the British territory, bringing snow, ice and more snow.
I was not in the country during those freezing days. Unfortunately (much loved word by the British), my return flight had been booked right for the day when a snow storm decided to stop by the UK. I was going to experience a 10-hour odyssey.
But let’s start from the beginning.

My flight had an hour delay. The company apologized for the delay without giving an explanation for it. It is not the first time that the crew and the company keep such behavior. If it happens again than I’ll consider it as “standard operating procedure”.
Anyway, once landed at Stansted and after the usual passport control, I waited for my luggage. “It shouldn’t take long, plus I have a bus to take in 20 minutes..” That was a hopeful me, at 11.30pm local time.
Two and one half hours later my luggage eventually appeared on the conveyor belt number 2.
I had a nervous breakdown in the meantime with tears and overwhelming sadness (consequences of weariness and despair). While waiting I found myself shivering and insulting this ‘useless” country and its impassive inhabitants. No one seemed too worried there at the airport. Out of the 4 London airports, only Stansted was open. So all flights were redirected there. Plus after midnight, the staff at Stansted is reduced to a fifth or even less than that. Which means that “I am sorry Madam, our staff is doing what they can, you have to understand that.” or “No Madam, I do not know when you luggage will be downloaded from the plane…” And then he added “With which company did you flight?” Once I told him he said “Oh, they have their own personnel for such things, you should go and ask them” I knew it was going to be waste of time but I gave it a try.
At the reception desk there was a ridiculous scene: at least 50 passengers, all angry and tired claiming their luggage and asking for compensation and one ******* (cant write the name) employee with fear painted on his face, trying to get out of there. “How long will we have to wait for out luggage?” “I do not know, some people have been waiting for more than three hours..” That was not at all what I wanted to hear. At that point resignation sent my brain to sleep. And so I waited and waited and waited.
At quarter to 3 am I had a bus ticket to London. Once there I waited another hour for the bus to Oxford, at the London Victoria bus station. Sleepless, cold, tired (not yet exhausted), angry, wishing to be somewhere else, hoping to put an end to this endless and troublesome night.
When the bus reached Oxford and I woke up, there were 15cm of dry floury snow on the streets, trees, roofs of houses, cars, vans, bins, benches, gardens. All white, all quiet, all silent. Pure flawless snow.
And useless trolleys. With so much snow I had no chances of making use of those two little wheels that make trolleys such a great piece of luggage. I had to carry my luggage home.
I was too tired for despair, I just wanted to go home. So I started walking home, carrying 25 kilos, trying to balance myself. Every 10 steps I had to stop and rest.
And there an angel came.. A man in his 30’s, well built, starting his working shift in half an hour. He had compassion of me and helped me carrying the heavier luggage. He carried it all the way home!!! I was so happy and relieved! I will be forever grateful to that stranger!
It was half past seven am when I laid down on my bed, my luggage in the living room and a note for my flatmates on the fridge: “7.30 am: I just got back after a night trying to reach Oxford. Please be quiet: I need rest! PS: happy new year..!”