It is currently 3am my time (or was, when I wrote this), but I can’t sleep anyway because it’s so damn cold, so I figured I might as well tell you all what my moving to England has been like so far.
Wednesday afternoon, after a lunch of Giacomo’s and In-N-Out, My family, Matt and I started off toward San Francisco in time to get there by about 4 pm (3 hours prior to my flight). The car ride was fairly uneventful, though sitting between my brother and Matt did result in my being put through a fair bit of poking.
When we got to the airport, we unloaded all THREE of my bags, and my backpack, and proceeded to find our way to the bag drop. I had already check in online so this part of the trip was fairly easy. My carry-on was a bit over weight, but a very nice airline employee put a magical sticker around it’s handle that meant I could take it on anyway. We then had about an hour to wait until I had to go through security, so we got sodas and sat down to wait. It was at this point that I discovered the awesome watch Alicia had given me was missing from my wrist, so Matt and I wandered the halls of the airport for a bit in hopes of finding it. No luck, and the cheapest watch for sale was $40, so I’ve been using my iPod to keep track of the time since. My dad even went out to check the car, but sadly I believe the watch is gone forever. Lucky me, to have 20 or so different coloured bands and plates and no watch to put them on.
Going through security was torture. Saying goodbye to my family was bad enough, but saying goodbye to Matt… well, all I could do was stand and line and struggle not to sob as we walked away from each other. Luckily my brother was at the end of the hall to wave his arms at me like a goofball, so that helped lighten my mood, if only a little. Still, I stood in line for security feeling like all the businessmen around me were glancing nervously in my direction, lest I should break down and one of them would have to deal with me. At least putting my stuff through the x-ray machine and getting the body scan went smoothly (though I did have oh so dangerous nail clippers in my bag).
After that I lugged my carry-on and backpack all the way to the end of the hall of terminals and stood around waiting to board. They made an announcement about passengers only being allowed one bag as a carry on, which made me nervous in light of my bag plus backpack situation, but again this went fine as they let me right through when we started boarding the plane. The only trouble I had from my bags was trying to get my carry-on up in the overhead thing, but luckily the girl who was to sit next to me for the flight was there to give it an extra push.
The flight was… well, the flight was a ten hour red eye. I tried to sleep, but only managed to close my eyes and try not to think about anything. I watched the movie Just Go With it, which was sufficiently B List. And every time the plane started shaking from turbulence I wondered if we were about to plummet to the ground. Dinner was too salty and I only ate a few bites of the egg mcmuffin-like thing they gave us for breakfast. I was almost certainly dehydrated for most of the flight, but too stubborn, of course, to page the flight attendant. So I suffered, like an idiot.
The only eventful moment of the flight was around 3 am when a woman a few rows back suddenly yelled for help and all the flight attendants came running. Unlike the obviously nosey people who stood and stared as a doctor was called for, I sat in my seat hoping like mad that nobody was dying. Or puking. I never did find out what happened, but paramedics were called when we landed, so who knows?
Heathrow’s airport must certainly win the award for the LONGEST hallways in the world. Hallways forever, that place has. And I kept wondering if I was going to accidentally sneak past immigration, though my worrying was certainly without need, as I realized once I got there and saw the massive lines that everyone had to go through. I was directed to the student line and given another form to fill out (aside from the landing form we’d been given during the flight). Next commenced an interesting balancing act between writing on a paper with nothing hard underneath it, trying to find all the contact info for Oxford Brookes, and moving forward in the line far faster that I was hoping. But at least the female immigration officer I went up to merely asked a couple of questions, took my finger print and stamped my passport. Then there were more hallways, and the baggage claim, where I strapped two of my bags together and the proceeded to go down more hallways to the bus station, where I bought the wrong ticket at the machine. Fortunately, the man at the desk was not only able to retrieve the ticket I thought the machine had eaten, but he also told me just to tell the bus driver about my mistake and that he’d probably let me on anyway, which he did (I just had to pay the difference in price).
On the bus I fiddled with my kindle, trying to get on Facebook and let people know that I’d made it alive. I also must have fallen asleep at one point because my head cracked back against the headrest, startling me awake. At the bus stop I gathered my bags again and asked for directions to the coffee shop where I was to meet Tamara, of which the bus driver had never heard of, but at least he accidentally pointed me in the right direction.
And then I met up with Tamara, and all was happiness and rainbows even though I was exhausted because Tamara is awesome. We lugged my bags to her adorable flat and then went to a pub for dinner and chatted for hours. Then we went back to her flat and chatted some more until her flatmate and his friend came over, then they chatted and jetlag started to catch up with me.
Friday was spent bouncing from one coffee shop to the next and buying books. A day well spent if you ask me. Too bad Skype refuses to work (it keeps making it so I can see the caller but they can’t see me. No good).
Saturday was breakfast at a coffee shop (with free wifi) and then Tamara set me off in a cab to go get into my hall. I had to pay a deposit and get my keys, and of course it finally started raining a bit while I was lugging my bags to my building and then up the stairs (luckily only one flight) to my room. I spent the day pulling things out of suitcases and putting them away (though I couldn’t shake the feeling that I would rather like to be home instead of here all by myself…). I bought hangers and some cereal, and sat in an on campus sports bar with wifi and very loud customers. And Skype still wouldn’t work. Neither would Google chat or ooVoo. I don’t know what the problem is.
Anyway, that’s the story so far, not very exciting but it is what it is. Hopefully I can fall asleep soon so I can get up before noon, though I don’t have to be anywhere till the Induction briefing at noon. Then there’s a social for publishing people. I don’t much like being social, but I’m going to have to be if I want a job after this year (which I NEED or else the loan companies are going to eat me alive). Sigh.
Oh, and I haven’t seen any of my flatmates yet. Well, except for the one who peeked out of her room as I was first coming down the hall, then she quickly shut her door and hid from me. Oh well. At least it’s freezing and I’m a million miles away from everyone I love.
Still, it did rain Saturday afternoon
Finally.