My Calendar--we'll get to this later, on to the post!
Never let it be said that I don't pay attention to my friends, as a particular good one pointed out that I had been neglecting my blogging responsibilities today. And so, here I sit, writing when I should probably be sleeping.
But there really is a reason why I haven't updated in over a month. You see, this trip has been an awkward combination of the best thing ever and my own worst nightmare. But enough foolishness, let us begin, at the beginning.
Since I last updated, final exams came and went, I had a spectacular Christmas at home with my family, and I spent New Year's Eve going over my list one more time to make sure I had everything I needed. I believe my mother and I packed and unpacked my suitcases a total of ten times before we were satisfied. As I lay in bed that night listening to the Corries on my i-Pod, I was filled with a mix of eagerness to leave, and sadness to be going without my family. Europe feels like home to me after spending so many years within its borders while growin up.
The feeling of sadness intensified the next day at the airport, as I said a very tearful goodbye to my mother and father. It caught me slightly by surprise, given that I was mostly frustrated with the AirTran lady's slowness in taking care of my checked baggage, a fact we shall return to later. But I digress! I looked at my parents and was overwhelmed by the fact that for the first time in my life, they weren't going to be able to rescue me in a matter of hours if I needed them. And for all of the petty fights I have had with them over the years, they have often been the rock I cling to in order to keep myself from drowning. And so I met this floodgate of emotion by sobbing as we parted, and then forcing myself to calm down on the transfer to my terminal.
After a ridiculously short flight to Atlanta, I spent an hour or so chatting with a friend of mine from school who had also arrived before everyone else. We joked about the fact we were wearing heavy winter coats as Floridians, and pondered what the trip would bring about for us. We were joined by the rest of our group in short order, and decided to go to a restaurant in the terminal for a farewell dinner. When the waiter asked what named to put us under, we decided that "Stetson, Party of Seven" would be best, and it became a name we wanted to keep for the duration of the trip.
After our last American meal (which included cutting meat with plastic forks because of heightened security, hoo boy) we wondered the 100 odd feet back to our flight gate. Through the window we could see the massive plane waiting to carry us across the Atlantic, and in that moment the trip became real to me. I hurriedly pulled my cell phone out of my pocket, calling my parents to let them know I loved and missed them, and double checked my seat assignment. My journey was about to begin.
A pointer, for anyone happening to consider studying abroad. Please ask your study abroad home office if they can arrange to have your group seated together, as we were scattered about the plane for the eight hour flight. Rather than be sensible and sleep, I became entranced by Across the Universe. While I love the film, I can imagine why some would be put off by it. A good friend of mine has since described it as "what an acid trip must really be like." As the credits rolled by, I caught the in-flight commercial for the fifth Harry Potter movie which would start in twenty minutes. Being somewhat of a huge Potter fan, I decided that I could sleep later, and made myself comfortable for the second film.
London: 6 AM. Our plane lands and a very sleepy bunch of Floridians wade through the security check point. Having made it successfully through, the girls grabbed a bunch of brochures from the theatre district, and we were off to await our flight to Glasgow. The four hour layover passed by without incident (well, except maybe for when we were dancing to songs on Cameron's phone) and I passed out from exhaustion on the plane. When I awoke, I could see the mountains through my window and I was filled with an overwhelming sense of exhiliration. I was in SCOTLAND!
It quickly became apparent, however, that my luggage wasn't.
Trying to make the best of a bad situation, I thanked my lucky stars that my mother had packed my carried on and took reassurance in the fact the British Airways employee told me it would take at MOST three days to get me my bags. And with that we were off to Edinburgh!
It was a strange stroke of luck that found our taxi for us, I believe. Because instead of having to pay cabfare for the ride from the airport to the train station (our planned route of transportation) our cabbie offered to drive us straight through to Edinburgh for only 15 pounds each. Now, that might sound like a lot of money, but we would have spent double that had we gone with our original plan, and we were seven highly exhausted American citizens. Comfortably packed in the van, we made the journey to the city.
I can still recall the awe I felt as we came into the city proper. Our destination was a hostel located on the Royal Mile--aka Tourist Central. What this meant was that I was suddenly surrounded by beautiful Victorian architecture that held businesses like Pizza Hut and Blockbuster. It was stunning.
After an amusing incident involving our driver cursing his computerized GPS system, we arrived outside our hostel, travel weary and eager for rest. As we piled our bags into the room (probably a good 600 pounds of luggage--it would have been more had mine actually BEEN there) there was hardly any space for those of us sleeping on the bottom to crawl into our beds. It became apparent that if we stayed in the warm room too long, we'd all fall asleep, and given that it was only 6 PM, that wasn't an option.
So the Floridians bundled up and trucked outside in search of sustenance and entertainment for a few hours.
What we found, was a carnival.
The lights of the Ferris Wheel served as a backlight for the Sir Walter Scott Memorial, and an air of festivity followed us wherever we went. We ate from a street vendor, though quickly learned that in the winds that like to roar here (and I do mean roar, my window is shaking with one currently) the food had no chance to stay hot. We wandered around for a while, contemplating going on the carnival rides but instead decided on heading back to the hostel. Showers were taken, jokes were made, and before long we were all asleep before nine.
We would spend three days in the hostel, and they are days for which I am incredibly thankful. The cramped living conditions forced us to bond with one another, and it was quickly decided that we would purchase groceries as a group to save cash. There are lots of inside jokes from that time, and I am sure I will never quite look at travel sized bottles of shampoo the same way, nor take free internet for granted ever again.
I'm going to close with the following story: the trek from High Street to Pollack Halls. We're all college students, we're all on limited funds, and when we left the Hostel Sunday none of us *really* wanted to pay a cab driver to take us what look like such a short distance on the map. We decided to suck it up and walk, hauling our luggage with us.
What we hadn't accounted for was the journey was mostly up hill. Nor did we remember the biting wind that was blowing that early January day. Somehow (and I'm still not quite sure how) we made it to our destination. As we waited to get our keys for Kitchener House, we all hurriedly agreed that we would be taking a Taxi the rest of the way.
What was fortunate about how long it took us to get to Pollack Halls was the fact that it allowed us to meet someone who's become an essential member of our group. While we were waiting on Chris and Cameron to finish filling out paperwork, the accomodations people asked us if we wouldn't mind sharing a taxi with another new member of Kitchener house, and we readily agreed. Thus, Erin from American University was introduced to our group. It became apparent that she had the same quirky sense of humor to be found in most of our groups members, and even had shared the experience of working as an R.A. The rest, as they say is history.
I'm going to stop here only because this is getting really long, and I want to do my first day living in Kitchener and getting used to campus justice. Therefore, you shall simply have to wait. I leave you with a picture of my calendar filled with January's highlights to give you an idea of the insane stories that await you.
(For those concerned about the luggage, it finally got here today, 27 days after my arrival. THAT story will get a post all of its own)
Peace Love and Happiness to All,
Laura
But there really is a reason why I haven't updated in over a month. You see, this trip has been an awkward combination of the best thing ever and my own worst nightmare. But enough foolishness, let us begin, at the beginning.
Since I last updated, final exams came and went, I had a spectacular Christmas at home with my family, and I spent New Year's Eve going over my list one more time to make sure I had everything I needed. I believe my mother and I packed and unpacked my suitcases a total of ten times before we were satisfied. As I lay in bed that night listening to the Corries on my i-Pod, I was filled with a mix of eagerness to leave, and sadness to be going without my family. Europe feels like home to me after spending so many years within its borders while growin up.
The feeling of sadness intensified the next day at the airport, as I said a very tearful goodbye to my mother and father. It caught me slightly by surprise, given that I was mostly frustrated with the AirTran lady's slowness in taking care of my checked baggage, a fact we shall return to later. But I digress! I looked at my parents and was overwhelmed by the fact that for the first time in my life, they weren't going to be able to rescue me in a matter of hours if I needed them. And for all of the petty fights I have had with them over the years, they have often been the rock I cling to in order to keep myself from drowning. And so I met this floodgate of emotion by sobbing as we parted, and then forcing myself to calm down on the transfer to my terminal.
After a ridiculously short flight to Atlanta, I spent an hour or so chatting with a friend of mine from school who had also arrived before everyone else. We joked about the fact we were wearing heavy winter coats as Floridians, and pondered what the trip would bring about for us. We were joined by the rest of our group in short order, and decided to go to a restaurant in the terminal for a farewell dinner. When the waiter asked what named to put us under, we decided that "Stetson, Party of Seven" would be best, and it became a name we wanted to keep for the duration of the trip.
After our last American meal (which included cutting meat with plastic forks because of heightened security, hoo boy) we wondered the 100 odd feet back to our flight gate. Through the window we could see the massive plane waiting to carry us across the Atlantic, and in that moment the trip became real to me. I hurriedly pulled my cell phone out of my pocket, calling my parents to let them know I loved and missed them, and double checked my seat assignment. My journey was about to begin.
A pointer, for anyone happening to consider studying abroad. Please ask your study abroad home office if they can arrange to have your group seated together, as we were scattered about the plane for the eight hour flight. Rather than be sensible and sleep, I became entranced by Across the Universe. While I love the film, I can imagine why some would be put off by it. A good friend of mine has since described it as "what an acid trip must really be like." As the credits rolled by, I caught the in-flight commercial for the fifth Harry Potter movie which would start in twenty minutes. Being somewhat of a huge Potter fan, I decided that I could sleep later, and made myself comfortable for the second film.
London: 6 AM. Our plane lands and a very sleepy bunch of Floridians wade through the security check point. Having made it successfully through, the girls grabbed a bunch of brochures from the theatre district, and we were off to await our flight to Glasgow. The four hour layover passed by without incident (well, except maybe for when we were dancing to songs on Cameron's phone) and I passed out from exhaustion on the plane. When I awoke, I could see the mountains through my window and I was filled with an overwhelming sense of exhiliration. I was in SCOTLAND!
It quickly became apparent, however, that my luggage wasn't.
Trying to make the best of a bad situation, I thanked my lucky stars that my mother had packed my carried on and took reassurance in the fact the British Airways employee told me it would take at MOST three days to get me my bags. And with that we were off to Edinburgh!
It was a strange stroke of luck that found our taxi for us, I believe. Because instead of having to pay cabfare for the ride from the airport to the train station (our planned route of transportation) our cabbie offered to drive us straight through to Edinburgh for only 15 pounds each. Now, that might sound like a lot of money, but we would have spent double that had we gone with our original plan, and we were seven highly exhausted American citizens. Comfortably packed in the van, we made the journey to the city.
I can still recall the awe I felt as we came into the city proper. Our destination was a hostel located on the Royal Mile--aka Tourist Central. What this meant was that I was suddenly surrounded by beautiful Victorian architecture that held businesses like Pizza Hut and Blockbuster. It was stunning.
After an amusing incident involving our driver cursing his computerized GPS system, we arrived outside our hostel, travel weary and eager for rest. As we piled our bags into the room (probably a good 600 pounds of luggage--it would have been more had mine actually BEEN there) there was hardly any space for those of us sleeping on the bottom to crawl into our beds. It became apparent that if we stayed in the warm room too long, we'd all fall asleep, and given that it was only 6 PM, that wasn't an option.
So the Floridians bundled up and trucked outside in search of sustenance and entertainment for a few hours.
What we found, was a carnival.
The lights of the Ferris Wheel served as a backlight for the Sir Walter Scott Memorial, and an air of festivity followed us wherever we went. We ate from a street vendor, though quickly learned that in the winds that like to roar here (and I do mean roar, my window is shaking with one currently) the food had no chance to stay hot. We wandered around for a while, contemplating going on the carnival rides but instead decided on heading back to the hostel. Showers were taken, jokes were made, and before long we were all asleep before nine.
We would spend three days in the hostel, and they are days for which I am incredibly thankful. The cramped living conditions forced us to bond with one another, and it was quickly decided that we would purchase groceries as a group to save cash. There are lots of inside jokes from that time, and I am sure I will never quite look at travel sized bottles of shampoo the same way, nor take free internet for granted ever again.
I'm going to close with the following story: the trek from High Street to Pollack Halls. We're all college students, we're all on limited funds, and when we left the Hostel Sunday none of us *really* wanted to pay a cab driver to take us what look like such a short distance on the map. We decided to suck it up and walk, hauling our luggage with us.
What we hadn't accounted for was the journey was mostly up hill. Nor did we remember the biting wind that was blowing that early January day. Somehow (and I'm still not quite sure how) we made it to our destination. As we waited to get our keys for Kitchener House, we all hurriedly agreed that we would be taking a Taxi the rest of the way.
What was fortunate about how long it took us to get to Pollack Halls was the fact that it allowed us to meet someone who's become an essential member of our group. While we were waiting on Chris and Cameron to finish filling out paperwork, the accomodations people asked us if we wouldn't mind sharing a taxi with another new member of Kitchener house, and we readily agreed. Thus, Erin from American University was introduced to our group. It became apparent that she had the same quirky sense of humor to be found in most of our groups members, and even had shared the experience of working as an R.A. The rest, as they say is history.
I'm going to stop here only because this is getting really long, and I want to do my first day living in Kitchener and getting used to campus justice. Therefore, you shall simply have to wait. I leave you with a picture of my calendar filled with January's highlights to give you an idea of the insane stories that await you.
(For those concerned about the luggage, it finally got here today, 27 days after my arrival. THAT story will get a post all of its own)
Peace Love and Happiness to All,
Laura
