Winter in Europe

01/17/08

Complete chaos! That’s what my day is like. I’m stuck in Heathrow airport, not because I intended to enjoy the adventures of the United Kingdom, but because every flight in the whole airport was canceled because of a crash landing. It was a plane from China that just barely made it over the fence onto the runway, though it’s landing was short so it landed on the field, missing the freeway and the innocent commuters, but still making a crash landing. Its left wing was smashed up, and the wheels were forced from the body of the plane, so there were deep skid marks trailing behind the massive plane. No one was killed, but still this frightening event was plastered all over the tele. Live. The strange thing for me was the fact that if I looked at the TV screen, I could see journalists and helicopter footage of the wretched plane, with it’s evacuation slides poised and confirming the intensity of the situation. But not only that; if I looked just past the TV screen and out the airport windows, I could see the plane, as clear as day in front of me, all flashing lights and crushed metal. So here I am sitting in a hotel room meant for heavy smokers. But this is a miracle that I’m sitting down at all! It was pure chaos in the airport. I had to go through line after line, to re-book the flight, get hotel vouchers, confirm my baggage, find the right buses, and check-ins. It was insanity, though I got to meet a nice girl from my school, who I happened to pick out of the crowd with my eagle eyes. No. Actually that’s a lie. I knew there was going to be someone from my school on the same plane, though throughout the day I thought she was at least 5 different people. But my last guess was correct (and she was the only person I actually approached, so I was pretty sure.) I actually liked the flight over very much. Ten hours is a long time to be doing nothing, but it was wonderful time, dark and warm. Most of the plane was trying to sleep, and I read some books for school, finished one for fun, watched monsters inc., and listened to music while gazing out at the fast-moving night. I even had the whole row to myself, so I could stretch out with a stack of pillows, remarkably comfortable. Sleep however, did not find it’s way to me. I’m running very low on much needed sleep so I feel once in a while as though I have vertigo. Only the earthquake and loss of balance that fills me so strongly, does nothing to affect the casual travelers on their way. As I stood with Patricia (the USF student) in line after line, even my unconscious was getting impatient. I would accidentally prod my baggage cart forward, hitting the people in from of me in the back of the knees. I was completely unaware of what I was doing, though somehow I think I was trying to edge the line along, as though I was a sheep dog, biting at the heels of the herd.

1/19/07

Here is my new life. After a feverish few days, here I am in my bed, surrounded by my bustling city, awaiting the light of mornings to come. The airport has unfortunately lost all o my luggage, and I have been wearing the same clothes for the past two days. I think everything that could possibly have gone wrong in the airports did, but that aside, I made it. The plane ride over was actually eventful. This stranger struck up a conversation and we ended up sitting next to each other on the plane. He’s doing a semester in Budapest, just like me, only he will be attending another university. Also the guy on my other side was this middle-aged man from Canada who told eventful stories about his terrible movies. He is a bad screen writer and actor (his words) who’s director is a transsexual named Dezzie. Apparently his last job was to make voice-overs smashing all of the Alfred Hitchcock movies, and to play the part of Harry Truman. I was picked up by a guy named Peter, who spoke almost perfect English, and drove, hands down, like a complete maniac. But I’m alive. And it’s nice to be roommates with someone I like. Seren is a really nice person, and we get along really well. It’s especially nice because along with other things, she speaks English, which in not spoken by anyone around here… except for us Americans. I know not a word.

I’m pretty exhausted, even after crashing into my hotel room bed last night. That night of sleep was pretty great. I was so tired that my mind cooperated whole-heartedly. I even began hearing my dreams before they appeared before my eyes. I was THAT tired. And here I am again. I hope I will sleep just as well. Goodnight. Jó éjszakát!


1/22/08

So now baggage means I have been wearing the same clothes for the last six days. Despite the annoyance of having no new clothes, I have found the solutions. I bathe with my clothes. Why don’t I just use the washing machine, you ask? Well for a few reasons. The first is that, who washes one outfit? It’s a waste. And the second reason is that I don’t understand how to work this strange Hungarian contraption. It’s both a washing machine and a dryer, and confusing. So I wash my own clothes and it’s actually not so bad. I’ve actually wanted to try this new, European technique of owning naught but one outfit, though I think more specifically it’s French. Thought the whole idea is that you buy a really expensive outfit and then wear it all summer, like a fancy dress. Then at the end of the season you put it away and never wear it again. Come to think of it, this is something my mother told me about so I don’t actually know if it’s true.