Monday, March 31, 2008

The Best Sight in All of Europe

One thing I absolutely hate is leaving a story only half-finished. So now I must apologize for becoming so wrapped up in my life back at home that I’ve nearly forgotten to recount my biggest and last month of European travel. I actually started this blog post back in March, but never quite found the time to finish it. So here begins another retrospective blog post that I started writing near the beginning of the year and am finally finishing today.

From the end of March 2008…

After fifteen amazing weeks in Europe, my greatest fear is that I'll get lost in my busy schedule back here in the States and forget to finish this blog. To give you an idea of where I am now, I have been back in the U.S. for four months and am gradually readjusting to American life. Before I delve too deeply into the quirks of moving home after a semester abroad, I'd like to finish my travel stories and eventually end with the bittersweet finale of my final flight back to Cincinnati. So bear with me as I organize my memories and recount my last month in Europe (which contained the bulk of my travels, ironically).

And so begins the story of the best sight in all of Europe...

After finishing our last day of classes on Friday, November 16th, Bill and I began frantically packing for separate trips in which we would part ways for the first time since arriving in Britain a few months earlier. Bill was leaving that night to catch a bus to Paris with a large group of Surrey students eager to enjoy a few days in Disneyland. An avid fan of animation, Bill was excited to see the European version of America's "happiest place on earth". Though I must admit that the Disneyland trip seemed like a lot of fun, the timing worked out perfectly for me to shoot off on my own two-week excursion around other areas of Europe. Treating Bill to a cup of tea before he left Guildford, I finished my packing and checked into bed early to find a few hours of sleep before waking up to an even earlier morning.

Waking well before dawn on Saturday morning, I was filled with a rush of excitement as I caught the 6 a.m. train from Guildford to London. With final exams only two weeks away, I settled into a window seat and began looking through a few Enzymology notes as the train began its early morning trek through Surrey.

Before I continue on about my solo trip to London, I'd like to take a brief moment to comment on the British train system and how I managed to hitch a free ride that would've normally cost me around $30. There are three main ways that you can purchase a train ticket in England. During normal business hours at major rail stations (like the one in Guildford), you would normally buy your ticket at a ticket booth, scan the ticket to reach the platforms, and be required to show your ticket to the train attendant sometime during your trip. At times when the ticket booths are closed, some stations have automated ticket machines that will print tickets as long as you provide a credit or debit card. If you're running late (as I was that Saturday morning) and the ticket booths have not opened yet for the day, you can hop on a train and pay the attendant as they pass through the passenger cars. Lucky for me, passenger trains are sometimes short-staffed on early weekend mornings and late at night. Running to catch the 6 o’clock train to London, I managed to hop on the train just as the doors were closing when I realized that I had forgotten to buy a ticket at the automated ticket machine. Planning to pay an attendant for my train fare, I scanned the aisles for ticket collector fully expecting to buy a ticket as he passed through my car. Waiting and waiting, I was surprised to reach London with not once seeing an attendant aboard the train. Shouldering my bags at the final train stop, I eventually gave up looking for an attendant and thought to myself, “Well, I guess that’s one way to hitchhike to London!”

“Why London?” you might be asking. Despite several trips to England’s capital city, there remained one sight that I had yet to see. Though not a landmark or famous theatrical show, I had planned to arrive in London a few hours early so as not to miss my “favorite sight” debut. Leaving the London train station, I found a comfortable tea shop and settled into a comfortable chair with a cup of hot chocolate, a croissant, and my well-worn Enzymology notes. While trying to cram the chymotrypsin cascade into my already over-flowing brain, I had to fight myself from glancing at my watch every ten minutes or so. By 8 o’clock the line at the tea counter began to grow as Brits and foreigners alike sauntered around the tables with morning beverage and Saturday newspaper in hand. Slowly sipping my hot chocolate, I forced myself to study until eventually giving up on my notes around a quarter ‘til nine. Packing up my study supplies, I decided to meander to my destination and wait patiently near the gate with several other early morning travelers. Many were gathered near the schedule board, but I merely shifted my bag from shoulder to shoulder while glancing impatiently at my watch every few seconds or so.

“Oh how I wish time would pass more quickly!” I thought to myself. Almost at that moment, I glanced up at the schedule board and saw the good news that I had been waiting to see.

“LANDED: 9:35 a.m.” flashed across the left side of the screen. From that point, my anticipation and impatience grew as I stood near the arrival gate. “Where could he be?” I asked myself. “I really hope that U.K. customs aren’t holding him up.”

After what seemed like an eternity, my favorite site in Europe walked through the airport gate. With big blue eyes, sandy hair, and a happy dimpled grin on his face, I was nearly jumping up and down to catch his attention.

“CRAIG!” I yelled while waving to catch his eye.

“Why, hello there,” he beamed while pulling me in for a big hug and quick kiss. “You’re a sight for sore eyes!”

For me, the best sight abroad was a special face from home.