Day 8: Burt to East Sussex - (0 miles)

Today was supposed to be my last day of walking for this trip.  I had 17 miles left to go to get to Letterkenny. It was to be my least anticipated walk - taking place entirely on N-roads (the same as UK A-roads or US highways) and the weather was due to be heavy rain for the entire day. I had already decided that I would send my backpack ahead to my final hotel via taxi as I set off.  It would be tough going and I knew I would feel vulnerable on the road but I was game. It was the last walk. However much a challenge it had to be done.

When sleep overtook me last night it dragged me into a feverish dreamworld. I tossed an turned a lot and finally woke up at 5am drenched in sweat.  My throat was sore and I thought I was coming down with a cold. I was bothered by the fact that I was bothered. Let's face it I've had far worse walks on this trip - howling gales, hailstones, sleet and mountain passes - a little bit of rain and big roads didn't bother me. But something wasn't quite right.

When I was getting ready for the trip I tried to check in for the outgoing flight and the return flight but they would only allow me to check in for the outgoing flight saying that the return flight was too far away.  I was anxious then because I would have no facility to print out my boarding pass.  Luckily there's now an app so that you can check in and get an electronic boarding pass on your phone. I was covered, but at the back of my mind I was irritated that I couldn't check in.  I'd checked in that far ahead of a trip before. I hate it when airlines change the rules.

I'd tried several times this last week to check in. I'd been keeping an eye on my emails waiting for the check-in notification. It still hadn't come.  So when I woke up too early this morning and could not go back to sleep again, I thought I'd try again. Again it said no. It was too early. With only one day left before coming home it was most certainly not too early. I tried again. No dice. Then I got a notification: Your check-in will open in 10 hours. That would be less than 24 hours before the flight.  That had to be wrong. I looked at the info again for the hundredth time and then I saw the piece of information that I'd been blind to for the whole week - the date of the return flight was Sunday, 20th MARCH. Not February - March. I wasn't booked on a flight home tomorrow at all. I was booked on one a month from now.

You know that feeling when you come to a realisation that throws all your plans into instant chaos? It feels as though you've been pushed in the solar plexus. Hard. The air leaves your lungs and your next gasp in comes with a flood of panic, followed by neurons firing with possible solutions.

I looked up the website to see if I could book a flight tomorrow. There were no seats available. In fact, there wasn't a seat available on any flight until Tuesday afternoon. I have work on Monday morning. Tuesday afternoon simply wasn't an option. So I looked to see if there was anything available today.  There was a flight due to leave at 08:45 with one seat left. It was 6:25 am now. I needed to book it immediately and get myself to the airport as soon as possible. I tried to book it but the page turned red and the notification said, It is too close to take-off. If you wish to book this seat, you must go to the airport or phone the call centre. It would take 25 minutes to get to the airport and I had no guarantee of the seat still being available. I tried to click on the link that said "call centre"- nothing happened. I didn't know whether the link didn't work or whether it was a problem with my computer. I was running out of options. I sent a panicky text to my husband asking for help! No answer. I knew he was asleep. I had no service to call him so I sent another couple of texts via the wifi but he still didn't reply. Then a miracle - I got one bar of service, so I called and that woke him up. As I explained what had happened the stress of it overcame me and I started blubbing like a baby. Then the connection dropped out and we got disconnected. I started packing as quickly as I could as I watched to see if I got signal. As soon as I did, I rang the landline. Tim had been trying to book the flight but it was actually impossible to do online. He was looking up other solutions that involved me going to Belfast or Dublin. The thought of having to travel cross country was just increasing my panic levels. I'd finished packing. Tim was running through all the available options which were sending my anxiety levels through the roof. I didn't want to have to start taking buses cross country so I decided to get a cab to the airport and take my chances. If I didn't catch the flight I'd look at the alternatives.  I asked Chris who was on duty on reception to call me a cab. It would meet me out front in ten minutes.

In five minutes I was standing out front with my backpack on my good shoulder, shivering in the rain, willing the cab to hurry up.

It was 7:45 when I arrived at the airport. There was no obvious place to buy a ticket. I wandered around looking for someone to help me. I eventually found a Ryanair representative who would help me. With less than an hour to take off, and knowing that Ryanair will shut gates on schedule and not budge for any reason even if the airplane isn't anywhere near take-off time, I was getting desperate to get the ticket bought and get checked in. The staff, were in no such rush. When the woman behind the counter took a hand written notebook out with instructions on how to change or book a ticket, I knew I was in trouble. It was like stepping back in time 20 years. She couldn't change my ticket because the computer didn't like it. "Fine," I said handing her my credit card, "just let me buy the ticket." It was a painfully slow process, which was constantly being interrupted by other members of staff who wanted this lady to sort their problems out. After an interminable length of time she printed out a receipt and told me to take it to the baggage check-in. She called the pre security check and told them to hold it open for me. I ran to the check-in. There was a twelve-year old sitting there who was very surprised to see me. She printed off a baggage tag and asked me for my boarding pass. I didn't have one - just the receipt. So she told me to take that to the pre-security check. The woman there however wasn't in the mood to overlook things like boarding passes. "You can't come through unless you have a boarding pass. Proof of purchase is not enough."

I may have sworn at that point as I ran back to the customer service desk to get my boarding pass. Yet another member of staff walked me back to the baggage check-in told the twelve year old to scooch along and finally she handed me a receipt printed out on WH Smith till roll with the number 16F hand written on it. I ran again to security and this time was left through. It was almost 8:45 as I ran to the gate - only to discover that the airplane hadn't arrived yet.

Insert your own  colourful, expletive-laced exclamation here.

I was on the plane and on my way home before I even thought about the fact that I hadn't finished my walking objective. For a few minutes I felt flat and frustrated but that soon passed.  I just need to start my next leg 17 miles before Letterkenny. It's no big deal. I can do that. Then as I calmed down I started to reflect on the week that I'd had in Donegal. Even with the pain and the extreme weather conditions it had been bloody brilliant. It's a gorgeous place with the kindest people I've ever met.  I can't wait to come back again!!!