Planes, Trains, and Delays

Oi with the poodles already.

Today has been another fabulous day of England. Though rather than sight-seeing, we were rushing blindly through the day hoping and praying our legs could carry us as fast as need be to make our train. Well, trains. And then buses, and then more trains. All of them sadistically scheduled with no time in between. Darn these Brits.

So, with a backpack, a purse, a large sack of tea, and a suitcase weighing the same as a grown person I set off in hot pursuit of my travel-guide and dear friend. A dear friend whom was herself dragging two suitcases (her's had wheels though, dang it) and a backpack behind her. A dear friend who was deathly worried about missing her train. A dear friend who has spent far more time running after trains than I have, and who therefor traveled a good twenty paces ahead of me the entire day.

Needless to say, people on trains don't like getting knocked in the head with large suitcases. Nor do they like when you stop in the isle for minutes to lift said large suitcase overhead. However, they do feel a sort of pity towards a girl whose blinking her eyelashes and pointing helplessly at her bent up train ticket. That's when they let you through the gate anyways, and forgive all the mess you made. Thank the Lord for that.

Obvious lesson of the day? Well, there are two.

Number 1 - Sore muscles, aching feet, tired back, and an exhausted mind are totally worth it when you reach your destination (as long as that destination includes a couch and cold drink).

Number 2- Train delays happen. Make sure you've got you've got a great friend sitting next to you when it does.

Airplanes and Sunshine

Let it be said that one of the most startling things is to wake up, turn to your side, and get an eyeful of the blue, blue ocean a thousand miles below you. And then, blinking in that blinding sunlight, there is another moment of startle when one looks at the clock to see it's only 1:00am. After all, the sun does indeed shine when it's early. . . go figure. Time change is a necessarily confusing thing, one that kept me traveling for a full 24 hours straight. The St. Paul airport started to feel like home after a while.

And this is the abrupt ending.

The Chasm

Hello vacant and distracted space we call the internet! I am here to fling my thoughts and words at you and watch as they fall down, down, down this cyber tunnel and bounce off your arithmetically molded walls in an endless display. If you, my dear reader, wish to jump on in after them, well then, please do.

Tonight, I will not sleep. That is because tomorrow I will board an airplane (four books and two ipods for company) and begin my small adventure in this foreign land they call 'England'. I feel rather unequipped for international travel, as my skills in other languages restrict me to such things as, "Hello. Where is the coffee?" in French, "bathroom/why" in Spanish, and "I'm cold" in largely unspoken Irish Gaelic. These are obviously the only things you'll need to know so what's to worry about?- you might ask. I'll tell you what's to worry about, it's a worry that I don't speak a lick of British. Here's to hoping I get seated next to a Frenchman of Spanish origins who's willing to teach me British.

Until I have more intelligent and lofty ideals to fling your way, I'm ending this post. Enjoy your evening readers that may or may not exist.