So it's about 8 pm London time, and I've lost track of how many hours I've been awake. My conception of what mealtime I should be on is gone (after an airplane dinner served at 9 pm New York time... then breakfast four hours later at 7 am London time//1 am NY time, I knew I was done for). My internal clock is ringing and roaring like it's nobody's business. But on the positive side... I'M IN LONDON.
Wow. That's the only word I can grasp right now. WOW. I honestly can't believe I made it here. This past summer flew by, especially these last few weeks being home. My family and I took a vacation to Florida at the end of July/beginning of August, and after that time just seemed to speed up. It's been a whirlwind three weeks since then! Last minute errands, visiting family and friends, and endless packing (I'm not kidding. I was still up at 2am on Friday night, before a Saturday flight, having a minor meltdown that I wouldn't be able to fit everything I needed. Not a pretty sight. Let's not even mention the tear-jerking family goodbyes the next afternoon). Before I knew it, it was Saturday evening and I was sitting on the plane. Aaand I may or may not have cried as the plane took off and I left my beautiful New York behind.
Let me rephrase... I honestly can't believe I made it here in one piece.
The flight was alright, minimal on the screaming children, but very turbulent. I'm not good at sleeping on planes anyway, so this made it particularly unnerving (I think I dozed for about an hour). But Delta in-flight entertainment is a lifesaver (Just Go With It? New favorite movie. Oh, Jen Aniston, you get me every time). And I had a direct flight from JFK, which saved me even more headaches from having to worry about connections and my luggage finding its way and whatnot. I did sit across from perhaps the most patient guy in the entire world. His seatmate was talking his ear off the entire time, constantly rummaging through her stuff for something or another, and literally climbing over and around him to reach behind her seat (we were the last row in the section) to find things she dropped. And I'm sure all he wanted to do was read his Andre Agassi memoir and get some sleep to get back on U.K. time (oh, did I mention he was a Brit? A red-headed Brit? Yes, I've already met one of the Weasleys. Be jealous), but he was seriously one of the nicest people I've ever seen. Never rolled his eyes or huffed or complained even once. He even held her dinner tray full of garbage while she put up her tray and dove into the abyss of the underside of the seat in front of her. That's a good chap, right there!
We landed around 7:30 am London time, and by the time I found my luggage and got to my flat it was around 9 am. Boston University has three main buildings for its London study abroad housing; I'm staying in The Crofton. It's actually a restored hotel, so it's really nice and modern on the inside. I'm in a triple on the ground floor, so my roommates and I have our own bathroom, and we share a kitchen with a few other rooms on the floor. Not too shabby, eh?
At this point, nerves/adrenaline had kicked in and it didn't really occur to me that my body thought it was 4 am, so I did some unpacking and met my roommates, Sarah and Jennifer (both of whom are AWESOME, by the way. We get along really well so far, and I'm really happy about my living arrangement), as they arrived. We had a few orientation lectures that morning and afternoon, including a walking tour of the residential area of South Kensington where we're living. And of course, it rained on us during the tour! Because it's not like we get to gradually adjust to London weather or anything. That's overrated. Later that evening we walked around Gloucester Road a little bit, a really cute little side street with cafes and shops, and picked up some dinner from Partridges, a little grocery store with a prepared foods section (no one felt like venturing into cooking on the first night. Or food shopping.).
I Skyped with the family for a little while about an hour ago, but they could tell I was just exhausted and really out of it. So now it's almost 8:30, and I'm finally going to go to bed. I don't care that my bedtime is that of a little old lady. At this point, I think this may be the highlight of my day. So long, jet lag-- nice knowing you!
Cheers!
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