Introduction: Getting here sucked.

Well, for those of you who were worried (*crickets*), I am alive. Officially, I have been in England one week and am one week tardy in setting up this travelogue. If you have enough time on your hands to be angry about this, please go outside.

Last Monday, I boarded what I thought would be my flight at Logan International Airport an hour after it was supposed to depart. It was raining, so we all suspected a reasonable weather delay. This is fine, because Delta Airlines doesn't own the air it flies through, they just rent it from God. Apparently, they were a bit late on the rent because Monday, God was not very happy with Delta at all. To make a long story marginally shorter, I left Boston at 5pm (I was supposed to leave at 11:40am) to get to JFK for a 6:30 PM transatlantic to London. Guess what didn't happen? If you said Nicholas Cage in The Wicker Man, I am very sorry, that did happen and you are wrong. If you said my flight to London, you are very correct. Well, the 6;30 did happen, and everyone got there safely, but I was not on it. Luckily, I did get on a later flight with other ICLC students, so that worked out.

When I got to Heathrow, I had to go through immigration. Oh. Joy. So I get to the counter, I have all the stuff I need, my passport, immigration card, letters, etc. etc. So Mr. Immigration Officer decides that it is time to ask me a ton of questions that I have no idea about concerning some stupid stamp that I will probably never even use. So, he decides, in his infinite wisdom, that I am the person they need to watch out for. He took me out of line, and went away with all my things to call somebody to see if I could get into the country or not. Now, let us, before I tell the next bit of story, have a bit of a recap:

1) original flight cancelled, three hours after listed takeoff time.
2) departed from Boston 6 hours after listed departure time.
3) missed original flight to London, had to rebook.
4) held up at immigration, with no way of contacting anyone and VERY little money.

Are you all caught up? Good. Let's go on.

I fucking lost it. In the middle of the immigration center at Heathrow London, I lost it. I sat down in a chair and started to bawl. Now I realize that dying children in a hospital ward have it worse off than I do, and that land mine victims are facing far worse trials and tribulations than problems at an airport. But let me tell you something, when you are being held up in an immigration line, and some guy just took your passport away, and you don't have any money to pay for a ticket on a bus, let alone a transatlantic flight, you are alone, can't call anyone, and no one knows you are in said immigration line, you aren't thinking about orphans. You are sitting in a chair bawling your eyes out and eventually throwing up in a very well maintained airport bathroom.

Over dramatic? yes. But, in the long run, I am almost glad it happened. I learned a valuable lesson. I learned to chill the fuck out, which is often a problem for me. Also, I now have had a negative experience to give me perspective on all future travelling experiences, which is incredible valuable.

Anyway, I got through the immigration business, the man apologized (as he should have. Bastard...) for being so rude to me, and I went to collect my baggage.

Oh wait, my baggage wasn't there. Funny how life works, eh?

This was one of those icing on the cake moments, where it isn't a big deal in and of itself, but I was really frazzled, overwhelmed, and upset already. Luckily, the woman at the counter for my airline was wonderful, and my issue was sorted out.

So I eventually did get to London Center, thankfully the transport had waited for me to get there and I got on. I got to the hotel, which was AMAZING. A beautiful building, lovely staff, nice rooms with free wireless internet access. It was great, a nice comforting place to be after a very rough two days. I was very happy, I saw my friends and everyone and I breathed a huge sigh of relief. It was wonderful.

After leaving the hotel and going to London center, we had our short orientation and commenced the flathunt.

More on that in the next post! (which will happen as soon as I finish this one)

Weary Traveller