Journal 44 Friday: So I slept like crap. I kept waking up every couple hours. I woke up when the girls came back from dancing, but that's no big deal. I was so paranoid about waking up everyone else early with my alarm that I was sleeping really lite. So I finally just climbed out of bed before my alarm finally went off. I got my stuff and went to go take a shower. I grabbed my calling card information and called home. It was only 11pm at home or something so I wanted to check in. Also, I needed to get Theresa's and Margaret's address because I had postcards that I had to send to them. I took a shower, these showers were decent for hostel showers - though I didn't put in my contacts in this morning so it was weird taking a shower half blind. When I got out I tried to call my parents one more time - I still didn't have Theresa's address. I tried calling her, her phone didn't work. I tried calling Evan, his phone didn't work. I'm assuming that their phones won't take international phone calls. My dad ended up calling me back because I had just got a christmas card in the mail from Theresa that day, so he gave me her address. And it turned out that I had Margaret's address on my laptop. I went to eat breakfast. Now, at most hostels they have cereal, milk, toast, and juice. At the Picadilly Backpacker Hostel they have toast and juice... that's it. So I had a couple pieces of toast and a cup of juice before getting my stuff out of the room. I went to the common room and repacked my carry on duffel bag with my laptop and computer stuff. I went and checked out, then started walking to the Tube. I bought my 2pound one-way ticket to Victoria station and was on my way. Once there I realized I was still extremely early; I had done so much packing the night before that it took me almost no time to get ready this morning. I sat for a little while watching people pass. I talked to a guy that I saw applying stamps to letters, and I asked him if he knew where the nearest postbox was. He pointed me in the right direction and I started walking. He caught up to me at the crosswalk because he was going there too. I dropped my mail, thanked him for his help, and then returned to that station. I bought a ticket to Gatwick. The guy said "12pounds", to which I responded "really?!?!". "Well do you want Express or Normal". "Whichever is cheaper...". "Oh, well then, 8pounds. But that will take you 45minutes". "That's fine" I told him, "I'm not in a hurry. I have plenty of time." I went to the little store there and picked up some Orange Juice and a pastry for breakfast and then wandered my way to the train. I got on, after asking a couple people if it was the right train - these things weren't marked very well. I sat down and read my tour guide book on the ride there. Once at the airport I made my way to the British Airways terminal. I talked to a girl who was from Spain, she was on her way there that day. Well once I got to British Airways they didn't have a flight listed for Orlando via Detroit. I sat down, pulled out my laptop and looked up my flight info. Turns out that while I was scheduled to fly British Airways to England, I was supposed to fly Northwest back. I grabbed my things and got on the tram to the other terminal. I waited in a HUGE line to check in. I was pulled aside to have my bags searched. It would have sucked in they had found the Absinthe I had. But they gave up after seeing how many straps and buckles were on my backpack, and didn't like that it took five buckles and two drawstrings just to open the main pocket. They gave up searching me before I even had my bag open for them. I went checked in, made my way through the metal detectors, and then started my 30 minute walk across the airport to my gate. I got there and sat there with my feet up on the pot/planter/thing. After about an hour or so I got up to call my family, it was getting close to boarding time. I woke my mom up at 4am, my dad on the other hand had his phone off, so I had to call his office line and leave a message. Once on the plane I sat down for a nice little 8 hour flight to Detroit. The flight was alright. The food wasn't too great, BUT the pizza thing I had was better than the pizza in England - not by much, but slightly. I watched Hero, Without a Paddle, and Sharktale before my little TV stopped working. I managed to stay awake the whole flight. We landed in Detroit an hour late due to taking off late out of London. I was positive I was going to miss my flight home. I finally got my bag, I swear it was the last one off the plane. I got through customs just fine since I'm an American in my own country. After that we were told that all of us Orlando people were going to be rerouted and rescheduled. At that point I was just ready to be home, I asked the guy what the chance of switching to California flight would be, he said to ask at the counter. Well, they ended up holding our flight. I rechecked my bag, went through more metal detectors, and made my way through Detroit to my gate. I got on this plane, which was completely full AND my seat was in the very last row, in the corner. We finally took off, only an hour late, and made our way to Orlando. I slept and hour of this flight, I didn't want to, but I was soooo tired at this point. Once I landed in Orlando I got to the baggage claim first since I knew my way around that airport, and waited. My bag never came. It turned out that my bad didn't make the flight, and wouldn't arrive until 12:15am on the next one. I gave them my cell phone number and information, me up with my friends, and left.
The next day my bag was delivered, it had been torn in half and zip-tied shut. Fortunately the only thing in my bag, was another bag. They tore open the duffel bag that I had around my backpacking backpack. Never fly Northwest. |