I woke up the morning of my departure with my bags packed (an oversized suitcase, a backpack and my laptop bag- all packed to the brim, and I'm wearing 2 winter coats on the plane). The plan was for me to ride with my boy friend Chad and my mom, dad, and grandma would drive separately to Louisville International Airport. After loading the cars right in schedule, Chad's car wouldn't start but after jumping his car a couple of times in the drive way we finally got it started- afraid to turn it off. Obstacle one out of the way. The drive to Louisville was uneventful (thank god!), but when we got close to the exit for the airport we took the off ramp that I'm sure most everyone accidentally takes leading us to the cargo area of the airport. We had to back track several miles up the highway to get back on the right track to get to the airport. When I tried to check in my oversized suitcase I learned that it was about 7 lbs over the legal limit to fly. In my mind I'm wanting to tell the airline attendant "You try to pack 8 months of stuff in one suitcase!". Luckily I had though ahead to bring an extra empty suitcase, which I used to unpack exactly 8 lbs of clothing, shoes, and school supplies to clear the legal limit to fly. Luckily this airline didn't charge me an over weight fee. I then had to say good-bye to my entourage, which proved to by much harder than I expected. On my first flight from Louisville to Atlanta there was a little boy, maybe 2 years old, who would not stop screaming and crying. For the entire hour flight... I had a quick layover in Atlanta and then boarded the mega flight for Brussels. The flight was roughly 7 hours and 15 minutes. Some may think that flying internationally is fun and adventurous, which is all true, but try sitting in an airplane seat for 7-8 hours and tell me what an excitement that is! If you have survived an international flight you'll sympathize with how uncomfortable it becomes and how hard it is to sleep and how you just know the man 8 rows back who is coughing and hacking will inevitably get the whole plane sick from breathing communal air for so long. I sat next to a very nice gentleman from Lome, Africa. He had a 33 hour travel day from Omaha, Nebraska to his hometown in Africa. And here I am complaining about traveling about half that time. He was visiting family in the states, but had to return home to Africa until his temporary visa is approved for him to apply to be a US citizen so he can live with his family. Upon arriving in Brussels, Belgium I had to locate the train station, which was on the lowest level for the entire airport. Luckily the man at the ticket booth spoke english because dutch is not in my language range. I had a little trouble locating the correct platform to take a short train ride to another station, which I had to switch trains to take the TGV into Lille. One might think, 'oh no problem!', but try it with a 69 lb. suitcase, a backpack, a laptop bag, and wearing 2 winter coats. At this particular train station the elevators weren't working, so I played the dumb american card and convinced some lady to help me carry my suitcase down a long flight of stairs. I then had to ask at least 2 train personel, which train I was supposed to catch to Lille cause none of the times posted matched my ticket. (moment of panic? oh ya!) I finally figured out that I was in the wrong part of the train station and after running to the correct platform, which luckily had an operating escalator, I figured out that my platform had two parts- A and B. Why does this all have to be so incredibly confusing?! After tricking several people with the dumb american card and convincing them to help me lug my suitcase up and down stairs, I had run out of opportunities and had to carry it on and off each train from here on out. When I got off the train in Lille I figured it best to buy another train ticket to the part of town where my residence hall is located. As I past the signs directing people to other trains, the metro, and taxis I considered just handing over the money for a taxi, but then thought 'no I can do this!'. When I asked the lady at the ticket booth for another train ticket to my next stop she told me it would be better to take the metro- faster and cheaper. So I did just that. When I got off the train of course I had no clue where I was, not even which way was north south east and west. So I asked one police officer for directions. He told me to get back on the metro and go one more stop down the track. Oh ok. So when I got off there I found another police officer who told me I had gone one stop too far and I should go back to the stop I had just come from. At this point I get the impression that the people of Lille don't know their city. At this point I am exhausted, past the point of hunger, sore from lugging all this weight around and about ready to buy another plane ticket home out of frustration. (Wish I had taken that taxi.) Then a middle aged couple noticed my distress and tried to help me locate where I was going on a large map in the metro station. They were also confused and directed me to a tourist/travel center near by. After walking 10 minutes and asking several people along the way I finally located the tourist office and asked the lady for a map and directions. She told me I had to walk about 10 minutes south and cross a bridge to get there. So I turn myself around, all the while looking for a taxi to come rescue me. I had to muster up literally the last ounce of strength and courage to keep walking. After crossing this incredibly dangerous bridge, which does allow foot traffic I figured out I had to be close because I found the correct street sign for my residence hall. After walking another 10 minutes down this street, which of course was under construction so I had to dodge man holes and barricades I found my residence hall. I've never seen a pretty building in my life, not because of the architecture or outward design, but because I had finally made it!!! When I walked into the lobby the girl at the front desk asked me to wait a while till she was done eating lunch. As my mother's good friend Jodi might say in this moment, "Are you shitting me?!". But no, I held my words and collapsed into a chair and waited. Finally she was able to check me in and show me to my room. Another very nice resident offered to take my suitcase to my room for me. After filling out an obnoxious amount of paper work I could finally go to my room and sleep.
It all makes for quite the saga, but in a couple of weeks from now I can look back at all of this and laugh, I hope. I am of course having problems connecting to the internet and can only access wifi in the commons area of the residence hall, where another french resident is blaring the little mermaid sound track in french. I'll never understand these people...
Thank you for listening to my rant about my qualms with international travel. I know have internet access in my room! I am slowly able to upload photos of my room and residence hall. I couldn't get them all up at once, but I hope this holds you over for now. It's actually really nice and this building is only a couple of years old. I have a private room with a private bathroom and kitchenette. There is a laundry facility on the main floor I can use whenever I like and a commons space with chairs, a tv and vending machines (and wifi!). I'm supposed to be able to connect to the internet via ethernet cord in my room, but of course it doesn't work at the moment. The residence hall houses many other young workers and travelers who are in need of temporary housing. It's on the south side of the city, which isn't the best neighborhood, so I've been advised to not go out at night. Also any guests who spend the night in my room have to pay a 15 euro fee/night. Knowing that I will have at least 3 people come and visit me, this just isn't going to work. So come mid october (hopefully with the help of my fellow teachers) I can locate a more permanent housing situation closer to my two schools.
Well that is all for now, I am exhausted and should get more rest because there is a lot ahead of me.
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