As the plane neared the British Isles, the towns came into view. Though dark, the yellow-sprinkled countryside was altogether inspiring.
After having been delayed in Dallas, Texas due to unsavory weather, we'd missed our only opportunity to make it to London on that particular day. We were delayed and would not be arriving until 24 hours after our scheduled arrival time, setting us to land in London at 6:00 a.m. on Saturday, September 13, three days after my uneventful 19th birthday. I was pleased, however, with the outcome of my predicament. I met two delightful gentlemen from Texas - Ed and Dave. Both very well-educated men with a nice cushion of wealth under them, they were traveling to London on business.
Being the street-savvy people we are, we decided to stay together as we maneuvered through the city of Pittsburgh, for that was as far as we made it because of the belated arrival of our aircraft. A casual dinner at Outback Steakhouse led me to believe that I had been fortunate enough to find a couple of guys who would make the time pass much easier. Dave and his never-ending mouth and Ed with his philosophical drive kept me well entertained in discussions of matters that would have been otherwise hearsay in normal day-to-day run-ins with random people.
Our flight not leaving until 5:40 p.m., we departed for the airport around noonish on Friday the 12th to check our bags and wander about the airport with no cares for a few hours. More conversation spilled forth and I found myself glancing down at my watch to find that it was already near the time to begin boarding. How the time had flown by. I was quite thrilled, really.
Well, the plane ride from Pittsburgh to London was about 7 1/2 hours, if my memory serves me. I tried to toss around to find a comfy position to catch a few 'Z's so as to ease the jet-lag...to no avail. I managed to squeeze in a few cat-naps, but no significant snooze. I marched my way to the rear of the plane where my new friends were sitting to engage in some time-passing chit-chat. Another hour or two passed this way. Back and forth to my seat due to turbulence, I went.
We arrived just as scheduled and everything was peachy...until immigration. I was not aware that I needed to present a document to prove that I was able to fund my schooling. Heart racing I explained to the immigration officer my situation. Luckily the stern-faced man took to my words and allowed me to enter this glorious country.
With my entire life packed into four pieces of luggage, I had to make it to Woking, where my friends Melanie and Trevor live. After calling Trevor, I took his word that a coach could take me from Gatwick (the airport I was at) to Woking. I made my way to the train counter hoping he dealt in coach tickets. Well obviously there was a bus station to buy tickets from and so I had to wind my way around through halls, up escalators, and across a road to inquire about a coach to Woking. Nope...there is coach service on that route. With my brick-filled baggage, I turned and trudged back the way I came and went back to the train ticket seller. Arms burning from muscle fatigue, I finally arrived and purchased my ticket. Too much fast talking from the ticket man flew into my ears and my frazzled mind could not compute his directions. Like an idiot I wandered for a few minutes and then went back to the line to ask which platform I was to go toward. "Platform 3 at 8:03," he said. "Thank you." and I was on my way. That gave me a good solid half hour to sit and compose myself. I set up camp in a glass-enclosed waiting area. My train came 3 minutes ahead of schedule and I rode the train until Guildford where I had to change trains - that was certainly a stunt. With all my luggage, I was certainly a site to be seen.
I stumbled onto the correct train and made my way to Woking. After much effort was put forth, I finally had all of my bags off the train and I found myself standing at the bottom of the stairs where the sign tragically stated "Way Out". I was convinced that I would have to lug these heavy bags up no less than 60 stairs. "There's a lift at the end of the platform," the elderly, very mobile woman told me. God be praised. I made my way over and from there, I was home free.
After leaving the station, I walked across the street to phone Trevor to let him know of my arrival. "The city-center side of the station," I said, and Trevor was on his way. I waited for several minutes and finally saw the familiar maroon-colored BMW to transport me to Trevor and Melanie's home just a few minutes (by car) away.
No matter what happened and no matter how awry my plans went, I did my best to remain in good spirits...that's all I really could do...
After having been delayed in Dallas, Texas due to unsavory weather, we'd missed our only opportunity to make it to London on that particular day. We were delayed and would not be arriving until 24 hours after our scheduled arrival time, setting us to land in London at 6:00 a.m. on Saturday, September 13, three days after my uneventful 19th birthday. I was pleased, however, with the outcome of my predicament. I met two delightful gentlemen from Texas - Ed and Dave. Both very well-educated men with a nice cushion of wealth under them, they were traveling to London on business.
Being the street-savvy people we are, we decided to stay together as we maneuvered through the city of Pittsburgh, for that was as far as we made it because of the belated arrival of our aircraft. A casual dinner at Outback Steakhouse led me to believe that I had been fortunate enough to find a couple of guys who would make the time pass much easier. Dave and his never-ending mouth and Ed with his philosophical drive kept me well entertained in discussions of matters that would have been otherwise hearsay in normal day-to-day run-ins with random people.
Our flight not leaving until 5:40 p.m., we departed for the airport around noonish on Friday the 12th to check our bags and wander about the airport with no cares for a few hours. More conversation spilled forth and I found myself glancing down at my watch to find that it was already near the time to begin boarding. How the time had flown by. I was quite thrilled, really.
Well, the plane ride from Pittsburgh to London was about 7 1/2 hours, if my memory serves me. I tried to toss around to find a comfy position to catch a few 'Z's so as to ease the jet-lag...to no avail. I managed to squeeze in a few cat-naps, but no significant snooze. I marched my way to the rear of the plane where my new friends were sitting to engage in some time-passing chit-chat. Another hour or two passed this way. Back and forth to my seat due to turbulence, I went.
We arrived just as scheduled and everything was peachy...until immigration. I was not aware that I needed to present a document to prove that I was able to fund my schooling. Heart racing I explained to the immigration officer my situation. Luckily the stern-faced man took to my words and allowed me to enter this glorious country.
With my entire life packed into four pieces of luggage, I had to make it to Woking, where my friends Melanie and Trevor live. After calling Trevor, I took his word that a coach could take me from Gatwick (the airport I was at) to Woking. I made my way to the train counter hoping he dealt in coach tickets. Well obviously there was a bus station to buy tickets from and so I had to wind my way around through halls, up escalators, and across a road to inquire about a coach to Woking. Nope...there is coach service on that route. With my brick-filled baggage, I turned and trudged back the way I came and went back to the train ticket seller. Arms burning from muscle fatigue, I finally arrived and purchased my ticket. Too much fast talking from the ticket man flew into my ears and my frazzled mind could not compute his directions. Like an idiot I wandered for a few minutes and then went back to the line to ask which platform I was to go toward. "Platform 3 at 8:03," he said. "Thank you." and I was on my way. That gave me a good solid half hour to sit and compose myself. I set up camp in a glass-enclosed waiting area. My train came 3 minutes ahead of schedule and I rode the train until Guildford where I had to change trains - that was certainly a stunt. With all my luggage, I was certainly a site to be seen.
I stumbled onto the correct train and made my way to Woking. After much effort was put forth, I finally had all of my bags off the train and I found myself standing at the bottom of the stairs where the sign tragically stated "Way Out". I was convinced that I would have to lug these heavy bags up no less than 60 stairs. "There's a lift at the end of the platform," the elderly, very mobile woman told me. God be praised. I made my way over and from there, I was home free.
After leaving the station, I walked across the street to phone Trevor to let him know of my arrival. "The city-center side of the station," I said, and Trevor was on his way. I waited for several minutes and finally saw the familiar maroon-colored BMW to transport me to Trevor and Melanie's home just a few minutes (by car) away.
No matter what happened and no matter how awry my plans went, I did my best to remain in good spirits...that's all I really could do...
