Just as I promised (and apologies for the delays), here are my posts about my recent travels to London and Paris! I’ve decided for the sake of time (and your dear brains) that I would would make this writing episodic, as this would be a really long post otherwise. (so no excuses if you tl;dr, I’m doing my best!!!)
So I guess the best place for me to start would be the airplane ride over, which in no time at all became the airplane ride from Hell. Let’s begin…
The Londogoblins (that is, the affectionate name for our group, consisting of 18 students, 4 professors and a London trip alum) met at the Boise airport at noon for our flight to Minneapolis. The anticipation was absolutely horrible; we were all super excited and couldn’t wait to get on that airplane. While we were killing time at our gate, surrounded by our mountain of carry-on bags, we went to go get food in shifts before finally boarding our plane at 1:40-ish. My travel buddy was our history professor, who I seriously believe I made a bad impression on because of my social awkwardness. I sure hope not. Anyway, the four (ish) hour flight from Boise to Minneapolis went without a hitch; I got lots of reading done (Abraham Lincoln: Vampire Hunter. You should read it.) and I was ready to take on our next flight! Hoo-ya!
Upon arriving in Minneapolis and eating dinner at the Chilis near our gate, I began to notice a peculiar pain in my brain… yup, that’s right, one of my famous monthly migraines. And guess who left her ibuprofin in her checked bag? Yup, that’s right, me. FML. So while trying to alleviate the pain in other ways (lobe massages, anyone?) we boarded our flight to London, an eight-hour venture that was surely the longest eight hours of my life thus far. I sat down next to my professor, took a deep breath and buckled my restraint.
Not long after we took off, I decided that it would be a good idea to sleep, as the students were told to not sleep or nap until at least 10 pm after we get to London. I found a semi-comfortable position hunched over in my seat with my head resting on my blanket on my knees, and closed my eyes. The cabin pressure was killing me, the guy in the seat in front of me was constantly shifting around and leaning back, squishing my head, and there was a colicky baby screaming at the top of his lungs all while his parents did diddly shit to calm him down. After I got my eyes closed at started to almost fall asleep, our onboard meals were brought to us. The flight attendant handing out the meals smattered the pronunciation of my name so badly, I almost didn’t answer. And to add insult to injury, she called me “mister *insert smattered pronunciation here*.” I unpeeled the plastic on my meal and began to eat, in hopes of potentially helping my head.
It didn’t help. While my professor horked his food down (almost eagerly, from what I could tell…), I barely touched mine because after a short while, I was sick to my stomach. Now, I’m not a picky eater. Far from it actually. I LOVE food and new flavors. However, this wasn’t a “Ew, this shit is nasty” sickness, it was a “Ohhhhhh, I don’t feel good, I think I’m going to—-” sickness.
After a few hours, that sickness was coming back. And a few minutes after that, well, I don’t really think I need to go into too much detail with this one; Airline food + Migraine + No sleep = vomit. Now, I felt a little bit better after the detox, but I still had about five hours of head squishing, colic-related screaming and migraine to go. By the time breakfast came ’round, I politely refused it for fear that I might not be able to keep it down, so as you can probably guess, by the time I got off the plane, I was fucking starving.
After waiting in a long line at customs, the group boarded a Coach to our hotel. The combination of soft seats, low noise levels, no sleep and regular air pressure was a pretty killer for me because I had an awful time staying awake on the bus. There were times that I would just black out and jerk awake, telling myself “No, dummy! Stay awake!” With my stomach snarling at me to feed it, I tried to keep it quiet with a piece of Hi-Chew. WORST IDEA EVER. Shortly after that, that familiar sickness came back. In a fit of frenzy, I emptied my ziploc bag o’ liquids, and barfed. And the strange thing is… NOBODY NOTICED. Nobody. Not even the dude in the seat across from me. So some embarrassment was averted, yay!
We got to our hotel and got our room assignments about half an hour after getting on the bus. My roommate and I’s room was quite literally hidden in a labyrinth, so needless to say, it took us a while to find it. But when we finally did, we laid down on our beds, got our toiletries put into the bathroom and unwound a little bit. I dug through my bag quickly to find my ibuprofin, and took one before doing anything else.
Later that evening, my roommate, some friends and I went out to explore the area around the hotel, mostly looking for dinner. We found a delightful little Thai restaurant called Tuk Tuk that we made sure to visit again before we left for home. Still feeling a little ill, I didn’t eat a lot, but the food was fantastic. After that, I retreated back to the room for a hot shower and to write in my travel journal. After all that was done, it was 9:15 pm. Exhausted and having nothing else to do, I told my roommate “I’ve gotten everything unloaded, my homework is done and I’ve stayed up late enough. Good night.” That night was probably the best night of sleep I’ve gotten in a while.
Early to bed, early to rise, and stay tuned for my next entry in the Londogoblins journey!