Wow. What a shocking day I've had! But then again, what's travelling without some serious stuff ups? Today I learned a couple of really important lessons:

1. Mum's are always right. Even if it's not YOUR Mum, she's probably still right.

2. Everything happens for a reason.

3. Always read your flight ticket. Then, read it again. Once you've done that, read it ONE MORE TIME. You should then proceed to get your airport and departure time tattooed onto your hand.

How did I end up here, writing this article, when I should be in Budapest enjoying a magic bath party and some ruin bars! How you ask? I've been living in Germany now for 6 wonderful months. And in this time I've done my fair share of travel. When it comes to flying out I have three options; Luxembourg, Frankfurt Main or Frankfurt Hahn. I'd booked a ticket a couple of months prior to fly from Frankfurt Main to Budapest, and I was at the airport with plenty of spare time like the good little passenger I am. I arrived at 11:20 for my 13:50 flight, here's what happened next...

I was incredibly excited to go to Budapest! I was to be staying at a party hostel, which organises a Ruins Bar pub crawl on Fridays and tickets for the Magic Baths party every Saturday. I made my way to my favourite cafe at Frankfurt Main, and it's my favourite because they give you free Wi-Fi when you buy something. That, and the counter girl and I have the perfect relationship with one another. I pretend that I'm a native Deutschlander and she pretends that my German is THAT good. Anyway, I'm telling you this because I bought a cookie from that very cafe. That's what I do when I'm excited, I buy edible goodies to calm myself down. So I got my cookie, sat down, logged onto the free Wi-Fi and started Facebooking and Snapchatting away. Before I knew it it was 12:30 and I was making my way to the departures board to see where I needed to be. I must have scoured the boards for a good ten minutes before I realised that my flight was NOT on there. In fact, there was not one single flight to Budapest on the board. My heart sank, and I opened up my e-mails to look at my Wizzair ticket.

Flight no: WB289

Departure time: 13:50

Airport: Frankfurt Hahn (HHN)

I couldn't believe it. Frankfurt Hahn? But I was at Frankfurt Main! Even when my host Mum said to me earlier that morning "I thought you were flying from Hahn to Budapest," I stupidly neglected to check my ticket. I know what you're thinking, right? Both of these airports are in the same city, so just jump in a taxi and you'll be at Hahn with plenty of time to spare! WRONG. The two airports are completely unrelated. In fact, while Frankfurt Main is one of the world's largest and busiest airports, Frankfurt Hahn is a very modest free standing airport that's virtually in the middle of nowhere. Nevertheless, I hadn't yet given up hope!

I've never run so fast with an 8 kilo backpack and a stuffed Kookaburra. I bolted out to one of the endless taxi ranks and asked, huffing and puffing, how much it would cost me to go to Frankfurt Hahn.

"180-190 euros," answered the driver.

Okay, I thought to myself. I can deal with that. I'll just live off the 'free food' shelf at my hostel in Budapest and skip that tattoo I planned on getting while I was there. But the biggest question was yet to come…

"And how long will it take?"

The driver deliberated with his other driver friend. They took a couple of draws of their cigarettes while my eyes darted desperately from one to the other.

Finally, he answered. "About an hour and 10 minutes"

Ah well, there goes that idea. There was no way in hell I was making my original flight. Devastated, but not defeated, I ran inside to one of the last minute ticket desks. At this point I was feeling like someone who was chasing after the love of their life and trying to stop them leaving the country (if only). I thought I was in with a good chance to get a cheap ticket to Budapest, and not for the first time that day I thought wrong. I nearly died when she said it would be 490 euros! She might as well have offered me a first class ticket back to Australia for that price. But then again, I was desperate to go to Budapest and see what all the fuss was about. Decisions, decisions…

I knew that I needed to talk to someone far more rational than myself before making a decision I'd possibly regret. And nobody is more rational than my lovely older sister Alex! I went back to my favourite café, purchased an overpriced apple and opened up Facetime.

"I'm….at….the….wrong….airport!!!" I wailed into the phone.

"Well how on earth did you manage that!" She laughed.

While the decision was already made before I called my sister, I needed to hear from someone else that I could NOT afford to spend 490 euros on a ticket to Budapest. I still had 7 months in Germany and I planned on seeing a lot more of Europe before I ventured back to Australia. And hey, as she reminded me; everything happens for a reason! This particular weekend, Budapest and I were just not meant to be.

I considered a couple of other options, like maybe flying to Barcelona for the weekend to visit some friends. Or catching the train to Hamburg to experience more of Germany. In the end, none of these options worked out and I dragged my tired, sad and illiterate butt home.

And on the way home, I made a friend on the train! Making friends on German trains is unheard of, nobody talks to each other! Actually one day, a drunk man went to sit down in the seat next to me and he fell on top of me instead. But that friendship didn't work out :(
It all started when I asked the guy next to me what the time was (actually, I already knew, and in any case I had my iPod to tell me; but I was SO BORED and it was a good ice breaker.) It was great to meet you Andy, thanks for keeping me company and I hope we can hang out together again!!

So now I'm back in Germany, and for those of you STILL wondering how I possibly got my airport wrong, my host Dad Frank told me that it happens all the time. Not sure if he was just saying it to make me feel better, but for my own peace of mind I'm going to believe him. So, back to those three important lessons.

Yes, Mum's are always right, no doubt about it!

Everything DOES happen for a reason; such as the time I had to pay 130 euros for a First Class ticket to Paris, because I neglected to pre-book and there were no regular tickets left? Well, it happened for a reason! And the reason was... actually, I STILL don't know what that reason was. BUT I do know that if I didn't miss my flight to Budapest, I would never have met my new friend Andy, and he's a cool guy.

Last but not least, I learnt to ALWAYS double check every part of your ticket. And please if you're reading this, learn my lesson as well. Don't let my mistakes be in vain!

So that's how I ended up here, writing this story. I'm back home now, in case you were wondering. OH, and I know what the person who coined the phrase 'FML' was doing at the time. They were waiting at the wrong damn airport.

Adios!