Have you ever ridden on one of those really tall
roller coasters? You wait in line for what seems like an eternity. It winds back
and forth through metal gates and every three minutes or so, you take a few
steps forward. When you finally arrive
at the front of the line, you are hoping desperately that the ride will be
worth the time spent waiting. You get on and strap yourself in. The attendant
comes around and checks to make sure you aren't about to fly off. You hear the
buzzer sound the all clear and with a jolt you are propelled forward. Then
begins the eternal climb accompanied by the rhythmic click, click, click of
wheels on track. Your feet dangle carelessly as you rise further and further.
Your heart begins to quicken and a slight pit forms in your stomach.
“I’m really high up now,” you think.
You keep climbing. Pretty soon you are over the treetops and
have a clear view of the parking lot. The vehicles all look like matchbox cars
arranged very carefully in straight rows. You return your attention to the
track. All you can see is track disappearing off into the sky. You are nearing
the vanishing point. And finally you arrive at the top.
There is a pause. It seems to last a minute or two and then
. . . WOOOSH!
Sky. Ground. G force. Trees. Crowd. Ground. Sky. Track. G
force. Trees. Crowd. Slowing. Station.
You brush back your windblown hair and breathlessly unbuckle
yourself. On wobbly legs you walk toward the exit and disappear into the crowds
of the amusement park.
That’s sort of what it has been like in my first few days at
Durham. I am still very much on the roller coaster ride. I don’t expect it to
stop until well into first term. I have been racing around trying to complete
all of the essentials while simultaneously trying to get my bearings. I have
been lost, have walked miles in a day, been frustrated, and been very happy,
all on top of being completely jet lagged.
I suppose I should start at the beginning.
Tuesday morning I woke up not really sure I was ready to do
this. I had no choice, but it felt as though the weight of mountains was
crushing me. A thousand doubts plagued my mind. What if my bags are too heavy?
What if I lose my passport? What if the flight is delayed and I miss my
connection? What if I can’t find the Durham University Welcome Committee at
Newcastle Airport? It went on and on like that.
I took a shower and came down to breakfast. My parents were
up already as were my ferrets. I played with them as much as I could before
they tired and went off to curl up for their naps. After breakfast, I sat in
the living room watching TV as though I had nothing important to do that day.
It was surreal. The trouble was there was nothing to be done. My packing was
done, I brought the cases down, and all I had to occupy myself were my buzzing
doubts.
Finally it was time to go. I hugged each of my ferrets and
said goodbye. My parents and I loaded up the van and we set off for the
airport.
We arrived at the airport and found short term parking near
my check in point. All of my packing had amounted to three checked bags and two
carry-ons and I was feeling grateful for the extra hands. I checked my bags and
the check in representative praised my excellent packing. None were over the
weight limit! It was time to head toward the security checkpoint. That’s when I
finally had to say good bye to my parents. We hugged and I quickly went through
to the checkpoint before I could change my mind. With one glance back I was on
my way.
I went through security with no trouble and proceeded to my
gate. When I arrived I went to make sure I had my boarding pass and passport
handy for when it was time to board.
HORROR!
“Where is my boarding pass?” I looked frantically in all my
things and could not find it anywhere. All my doubts came flooding back. I
retraced my steps and went back to the end of the security checkpoint. I asked
one of the TSA officers what I should do. She smiled and told me it was no
problem, that they could print me out another at the gate.
I went back to find the desk empty. It was too early for
anyone to be there. My flight didn't leave for another two and a half hours. I
sat and waited keeping my eyes fixed on the desk. Just then a gentleman walked
up to the desk. He was clearly a passenger with a wheeled carry-on bag dragging
behind him. He looked around to see if there was a way to call anyone over and
then, finding nothing, placed a long thin white paper on the desk and walked
back to his own gate. I ran over and there was my boarding pass! (Thank you
whoever you were for turning it in.) I returned to my seat and waited.
When I finally boarded the plane I was feeling just as
nervous. I needed to make my connection! We seemed to be taking forever to
board and my rows were the last to be called. When I made my way to my seat,
there was someone sitting in it. (Oh gosh! Had I gotten the wrong seat?) A
flight attendant arrived on the scene. It turns out the woman who had taken my
seat had gotten the row wrong. She was supposed to be in the row in front of
me. I decided it was no problem, that I’d just take her seat. It even turned
out we had both ordered the same special vegetarian meal, so that all worked
out very well.
The flight was long, over seven hours, and I didn't manage to sleep at all. I
watched two episodes of Doctor Who and Star Trek Into Darkness. I tried
desperately to snooze but to no avail. It was pitch black outside the plane
window. I could make out some stars but other than that, there was nothing to
see.
When we arrived in London, it was completely obscured by
fog. Of course we have all heard of the London fog. I’m here to tell you, it is
not an exaggeration. There was nothing that could be seen of the ground until I
was standing on it.
I had a very tight connection. Only an hour to make it to my
Newcastle flight. I began to feel my heart pounding in my chest with sheer
anxiety. As I cleared the gate, I noticed a Heathrow worker standing with an
iPad that had my connecting flight’s number on it. I approached him and he told
me he would take me through to the next gate I needed to be at. We waited for
another passenger from my flight who was taking the same connection and we made
our way to the border crossing. I was stuck behind a few other people and it
was taking ages. Now anyone who knows me will tell you, I am not the type of
person to make waves or seek favors. I will wait in a queue and take punishment
before I try to play the system. In this case my survival instincts took over.
I asked the person directing us to the agent if I could be allowed ahead as I
had a tight connection. It worked! I apologized to those who I had jumped and
thanked them.
Finally it was my turn. I had my landing card and my
passport all ready. She looked at them and then asked for my CAS letter.
(Certificate of Acceptance) I froze. I knew it was somewhere in my big red
binder I had made of all my important documents. I took it out of my laptop bag
and began frantically looking. I looked for a good three minutes and my panic
rose with each passing second. Finally, she put me out of my misery and said
anything with my university would do. I handed her the offer of accommodation email
and then came the question.
“What were you doing the past year?”
I thought for a moment. Well that’s nice of her to make
small talk. Oh no wait, she’s not making small talk! What was I doing? I was
unemployed. Well I can’t say that. I hung out with friends, sang in a choir,
played with ferrets. No, that won’t do. Oh wait, I know!
“I was an intern at the state museum where I lived,” I said
still with panic in my voice.
She stamped my visa and I was clear. But I wasn't clear.
I had to go through security again! I had done so at the
other airport and didn't think I’d have to do it again but I was very much
mistaken. I panicked again. The line was so long! Then I saw one of the
security people and decided that it had worked before maybe it will again. I
asked to jump the queue.
She was fantastic. She took my bags. Put them on the
conveyor belt. I took my laptop out quickly and kicked off my boots and placed
them in the bin. Then I went through the detector. My things took what seemed
like ten minutes, but they finally came through all right. The woman from
security pointed me to my gate and I bolted after an effusive thank you.
I ran to the gate and got in the queue. I had made it! I was
exhausted, bedraggled, and quite discombobulated. When I finally stepped onto
the plane, I was still out of breath. The flight attendant smiled and looked at
me. He was an older gentleman with black rimmed glasses. He looked at my
boarding pass.
“Been flying all night have you?” he asked.
I sighed heavily, “Oh yes, I’ve been going for ages.”
“Oh, well you don’t look it. I can tell from your accent
though.”
I stopped and looked confused. LIGHT SWITCH. I’m the one
with the accent now! It was the first in a series of tables turning. I smiled
at him and went to my seat.
The flight was only an hour. It was over before it had
really started. We came in for our landing and all I remember seeing were green
fields filled with sheep and cattle. It was bizarre, like I had landed in the
middle of nowhere. I waited patiently for most of the people to disembark before
moving. I had no reason to rush now. I’d have to use the loo and then wait ages
at baggage claim. My cases were never one of the first to go. It was the first
time I ever disembarked on the tarmac. I went down the stairs imagining I was
stepping off of Air Force One or something.
I made my way slowly to baggage claim. Got a trolley to put
my five bags on and stood with everyone else waiting for the bags to start
coming. You cannot know my amazement and joy when two of my bags were the very
first ones down the conveyor belt. I snatched them up and put them on the
trolley. Then the third came very soon after.
Then came the hunt for the University Welcome Team. I had
been told to look for people in purple shirts but there were none to be found.
To be continued…
