A Statistically Impossible Trip North

I'm remembering some number from my online stats class last summer that when found from a probability calculation (I love probability) basically means the chance of an event occurring is practically zero. Like getting a royal flush in poker-- practically impossible for any one game.

Apply that concept to weekend trips, and you end up with a series of terribly improbable but highly unfortunate events. String those events together, and you're left with an expensive, nerve-wracking trip doomed from the beginning.

What do I mean by all this? Well ladies and gentlemen, let me use this space to tell you Katie Beth and I defy all probability. Statistics meant nothing to us last Thursday night as we set off to catch our night bus to Edinburgh, Scotland. In fact, if our fortunes had been as good as they were bad, we'd be the luckiest people alive. Ever.

But allow me a few moments to weave the tale of this most improbable weekend. It begins last Thursday, 26 June. Come with me now as I take you back to that night.

*cue Twilight Zone music*

(PS, I'm feeling rather dramatic right now, so please bear with me. If you'd like, read slowly- it heightens the feeling. Something about savouring the mental picture, I believe)

The deadbolt on the front door clicks shut. Katie Beth and I step out of the flat's overhang onto the sidewalk, slick from a soft London drizzle. We've left five minutes later than I intended, 10:35 PM. The burning street lamps cast more than enough light for us to walk and then jog to the Earl's Court station as I become progressively more worried. We swipe in, trot down the steps towards the District line, and wait for a train heading towards Victoria Station. Minutes tick by, inching us ever closer towards the bus's departure at 11 PM. The boards show no useful trains coming. I glance at my watch, once, twice, three times, more. Precious minutes continue to slip away. A couple nearby gives new meaning to the phrase public display of affection. Breathe Laura Beth, breathe. My head shakes; we're not going to make it. The right train arrives; we board.

Katie Beth, we're going to run for it. I've got the lighter bag, I'll go ahead. Turn left, then left again on Buckingham Palace Road. Run until you see the Coach Station. If I catch the bus, I won't be able to keep it long. She pays attention, but just long enough not to miss the PDA/inebriated couple making fools of themselves by us. The train trudges to Victoria Station after three agonizingly slow stops. The Tube at night is not dependable.

The train screeches, the doors open. Five minutes 'till 11. I dart into the churning mass of Tube-goers with Katie Beth hot on my heels. We race through the station to find stairs leading to the street above before taking a few deep breaths and plunging into the open streets.

I dodge past Londoners. Shifting left, right. Arms pumping, feet pounding. Just a little ways more, it'll be over soon. Don't look back, Katie Beth will find it. My legs are numb. Keep running. My heart is burning. More, more. Glance across the street. Cross traffic, swing into the station. Down the hall, over to the right. Five, Gate Five, where is it? There, go, now, they're boarding. Two minutes left.

The driver looks at my ticket. We're leaving now, people have to make it to the airport. My friend isn't here- how much time is left? One minute, and then we're leaving. I'll be back, thank you, thank you.

Back through the doors into the station. Search, search. Where is she? She couldn't have been far behind. Out onto the street. KATIE BETH! I yell. Again, Katie Beth! Nothing but the rushing of traffic.

I whirl around and head into the coach station again. She much be here; she couldn't have missed the building. I jog between Gate Five and the entrance. Where is she? Where is she? Nothing. I run over to the bus, apologize for keeping them an extra few minutes, and tell them to go on without us. Back to jogging between the entrances. On my second or third circuit, I spot my traveling buddy. Her eyes are wide, and we're both breathing hard from running.

(Alrighty, that's enough dramatic writing for now. Every once in a while I'll go on a very short-lived kick to turn out something a little different than my usual narrative, but that's over so I'll turn the regular voice on now.)

Turns out I made it to the bus in time, but Katie Beth was a few minutes behind me so we didn't make it together. She had stopped at the information board, checked for an Edinburgh bus, and then gone over to Gate Fifteen, a bus that was leaving at 11:15 PM. By the time I knew we had missed the bus, I could care less about how we were going to make it Scotland-- I had to find Katie Beth! She doesn't have a cell phone here, so it's always a little iffy if we'll meet up.

The Edinburgh bus at Gate Fifteen was full (we tried to buy tickets), so we went back to Victoria Train Station to look at tickets for Friday, the next day. But since they were about £120 per person, we opted to go back to Katie Beth's flat to look at other options. Of course her flatmates were expecting us to be well on our way Scotland, so they were understandably confused when we tip-toed in. No worries though, we were quiet and sat on the couch researching plane tickets. We booked a one-way flight to Edinburgh for the following morning at 11:00 AM for £90 per person. Oh goodness, what had we done?

So it was back to my flat for a few hours of sleep (got to bed at 1:30 AM) before waking and trying again. We left half an hour after I had wanted (mostly my fault) and then while two stops down the Tube, I realized I had left my wallet by the flat's computer when I was booking Loch Ness tour tickets. Arg. Back to the flat, another fifteen minutes. Fantastic Laura Beth, fantastic. We switched lines, but the train we boarded was hitting every red light (usually used to even out the trains between platforms) at every station. Oh goodness. I was beginning to worry about making our flight! While digging around in her bag for her razor, Katie Beth found it with her index finger, so we wrapped it up with my muffin wrapper. Poor finger! We managed to get a band-aid for it at the airport from a funny clerk.

Right, so we made it to the London City Airport (it was actually very easy to get to by Tube) with plenty of time before our flight. I wasn't sure if the UK had the same carry-on restrictions as the US, so I brought along my special water bottle, the one I've had since Mom dropped me off at the Chicago airport, filled with water. Oops, the UK will not allow any more than 3 ounces of liquid. Gulp, gulp, gulp! I wasn't even that thirsty, but I got all of it down. Gotta save that bottle, you know.

We got to the terminal gates and sat down to wait for our flight at 11:10 AM. Katie Beth read from her Victorian lit book, while I ate my muffin breakfast and watched the flight info board. Oh no, the plane was delayed by twenty minutes! We went to a little sandwich place nearby and picked up some food, but I put my tuna fish and sweet corn (I know, random) sandwich away to eat on the plane.

They finally had us board, but it was 11:50 AM before we took off. Normally, such a delay wouldn't have been a problem, but we had previously purchased train tickets to take us from Edinburgh to Inverness for 1:36 PM (they were bought before we missed the night bus. Oh, and the guy gave me a Club55 rate [age 55+] so I had to go back and get the tickets switched. Goodness). The flight took almost exactly an hour, and they served us drinks and salsa pretzyls as well as, get this, free sandwiches! Ok, so maybe they were a little weird-- I had brie and humous-- but they were free. That definitely made the £3.70 I spent on my tuna fish sandwich seem a little silly. Ah well.

Anyways, we touched down in Edinburgh and bolted off the plane to find the Airlink bus which is a £3 ride from the airport to the train station. An advertised twenty-five minute ride? Fantastic! We'll even have six minutes to spare! Uh, no. They LIED! Much to our dismay, we arrived at the train station a full 35 minutes later. As it turns out, Katie Beth had lost part of her train ticket, so it really didn't matter much anyway. It was just that kind of day.

Right, so we missed the train, the second form of transportation we didn't make. I pulled out my Google map and navigated us to the bus station where we purchased tickets for a 2:35 PM bus to Inverness for about £40 total. It was 2:15 at the time. We made our way over to Gate F and waited...and waited...and waited some more. Turns out, because of EU regulations the bus driver was required to take a 45 minute break between driving. In the mean time, Katie Beth and I talked to a very nice older Scottish couple. We finally took off from the station at 3:30 PM, but I had to text Emily (one of my flatmates) for our B&B's phone number to tell them we would be late. We finally pulled into Inverness at about 7:00 PM and found our night's lodging by 7:30 after a bit of wandering.

The Broadstone Guest House was a quaint little castle-like structure located just a few minutes walk from the city centre. We had booked the 'Tartan Twin' room which was a relatively small-sized, but very nice abode for the night. Certainly not the Cardiff apartment, but it was clean and tastefully furnished. And again with the UK and always having electric teakettles, tea, cream, sugar, and even biscuits this time!

For supper, we walked back near the city centre to a restaurant we'd passed on the way in. I don't remember the name, but the food was very good! I had pheasant, and Katie Beth had steak. We were going to get dessert (they had some awesome ones!) to celebrate making it to Scotland, but I developed heartburn midway through the meal (arg, but I did have my trusty Zantac and UK version of Tums), and we were pretty full. So it was back the the B&B for a wonderfully quiet night of a little TV and then bedtime.