Ciara Beattie and Anne Gallagher | Guest Contributors
We were the first team to sprint out of Trinity in our pinstriped leggings. Car to Dublin Airport: first to arrive there, but still to no avail from any airline. Headed to Dublin Port, to stand in the pouring rain for 4 hours. Holding soaking signs: “UK?”, thumbs about to fall off, hiding the signs every time the Guards came around. Trucker shouts over “Where ya goin’ girls?”. Never ran so fast! Turns out he thought we were a couple of kids running away from home, but was more than eager to help when heard the cause. Immediately showed us his passport, putting the fear of murder at bay for a while. Turns out we’d had a lucky encounter: he was leaving the port because the ferry we were trying to sneak on to was cancelled.
Arrive at Dún Laoghaire and he tells us to hide in the bed up top. Stowed away for 3 hours, where Ciara strongly contemplated peeing in the charity bucket. Finally, on the boat, Border #1 is crossed. Ciara could finally move again and the world’s smallest budget remake of “Titanic” happened. Drove out of Wales to Border #2, parked up in Oxford where we kipped in the smallest bunk, unable to sleep from his snoring!
Before sleep, he insists we have wine. Since Anne hates wine, Ciara strategically leans forward, sliding her cup under her arm so that Anne could pour her wine into Ciara’s cup, while trying to keep conversation flowing. Woke up at 8 and spent the next 5 hours, en route to Dover, listening to horror stories about the Channel Tunnel. Once the truck was parked up in the trailer, hopped on a bus to the Euro Train; within 20 minutes we were in France, Border #3. No turning back now. Ciara spends the entire journey through France lying in his bed, as apparently seatbelt laws are very strict.
While on the phone to his friend, we hear his nickname: “Colin the Ripper”, which lead the conversation to murder stories for the next few hours. Stopped off for “cheap French vino”, before continuing on to Border #4, Belgium. Stopped off there to fill up, €1500, for half the tank! On the road again, there was a sudden bang and Anne nearly came out of her skin: a pigeon had flown straight into the truck’s window. Ripper reassured us, saying it wasn’t as bad as the time he killed an owl. Reach the Netherlands, Border #5, stop off for an amazing three-course meal. Then, Ripper loses the parking ticket and starts f’ing and blinding.
Sneak across the German border (#6), illegally, 2 hours before trucks are allowed to drive on the road, just to get us to Düsseldorf on time. Alone in the airport, reality began to set in: 36 hours, 6 Borders, 6 Modes of Transport and the furthest travelled without a plane!
Once in Düsseldorf Airport, decided that it was too late at night to explore. In order to keep costs to a minimum, we spent the night trying to sleep in the airport. Then, woken at 6am to screaming protesters: the airport security were on strike and no planes would be leaving until further notice. With limited sleep: went to discover Düsseldorf. Another night in the airport did not seem appealing: began trying to beg hotels for a free room, but were unsuccessful. En route to a hostel: passed one final hotel: Hotel Düsseldorf Mitte. The staff told us it’d be half an hour before the manager arrived; we decided to wait as the snow had begun. After much persuasion and language barriers, the manager realised we were raising money for Amnesty International, and began to cry. She was more than keen to give us a bed for the night (and complimentary breakfast in the morning), even offering to take us home to her house if no rooms were available. We were ecstatic just to finally get a shower! That night consisted of several free drinks in O’Reilly’s bar and dancing in every club that was open.
The next day, we checked the flight prices back to Ireland – they had doubled since we first checked due to the strike and blizzards. Trying to find another trucker as amazing as Colin did not seem realistic, so in desperation we put out a status to Jailbreak fans, in the hope that someone would be willing to sponsor us. Within minutes, Wu Rosa, a kind lady from Singapore, rang us and told us she would love to pay for our journey home. The icing on the cake for the most extraordinary journey was walking through Dublin Airport and having strangers come up to hear about our journey.
