Monday, August 2, 2010

The big jump across the pond

I've made it to England...finally! It's been a long time coming, a year in the planning as a matter of fact. Well, maybe not so much planning, but a lot of talking and a lot of throwing things out there and waiting for them to fall in place. A couple things have fallen into place and a few things are still up in the air. But this is not about that, let's instead talk about my journey and first experiences as a new "resident".

It began with a trip to O'Hare airport in Chicago. Angie and I were dropped off at Terminal 2 for Air Canada. We both flew Air Canada to Ottawa on different flights and then to London on different flights, but flying at the same time. We waited in line for about 30 minutes and finally got to the representative (no self check-in's for Air Canada). She looked at us perplexed and said:

"Oh, your flight is being operated by United, you need to go to Terminal 1. Have you really been waiting in line this whole time?"
"Yes we have."
"Oh jeez. I better check to see if anyone else is waiting for that flight too..."

So off we went to United, in Terminal 1. Fortunately it was only about a 3 minute walk and the representative for Air Canada gave us a push cart to load our bags on. We had two suitcases, a giant duffel bag, and to packed backpacks (carry-ons) filled with my stuff, Angie's roller derby gear, and her clothing from her 3 week vacation to the States.

At the United counter, we weigh our bags and (of course) they are over weight. The weight limit is 50 lbs and we had my duffel bag at 52.5 lbs, one suitcase (fairly large) at 60 lbs and the last suitcase (a normal carry-on sized suitcase) at 40 lbs. The charge for overweight bags is $200, regardless of how little or over the weight is. So we stepped aside to a counter where no one was at and started digging through the bags, weighing each item we removed and put it either into our carry ons or into the small carry-on sized suitcase. With my masterful skills, we got both overweight bags down to exactly 50 lbs and crammed that little carry-on sized bag up to about 45 lbs. These things were busting at the seams. I realize that this may all seem impertinent, but it comes back into play when you least expect it.

Anyway, we move back to the check-in counter and Angie asks if we can get on the same flight to Ottawa. Yes, but there will be a fee. (No thanks) We ask if we can get on the same flight from Ottawa to London, considering that both planes are leaving and arriving at the same time. Yes, but there will be a fee. (Again, no thanks) We check in and are off...

Angie is the first to fly. I get her on her plane and I kill about 2 hours until my flight. I hop on my plane and arrive to Ottawa to be greeted by a very nice, but very inquisitive immigration agent. He's asking me why I'm going to London. I'd like to say "What's it to you?" but decide to take the nice honest route and tell him that I'm going to meet my girlfriend who is living over there while I look for work. He then proceeds with the 3rd degree:

"What does your girlfriend do over there?"
"Is she American?"
"Do you know that you can't work on a visitor's visa?"
"Do you know the requirements to get a work visa?"

This goes on for a bit and I'm thinking...Holy crap! If this is what it's like to just pass through Canada, what's going to happen when I get to England? He eventually let's me pass and I meet up with Angie on the other side as my plane is getting ready to board. Not many planes were flying out of Ottawa at 10:30 PM in the international terminals. I ask her where her plane is boarding and she informs me that we are on the same plane. That my flight got merged with hers due to lack of seats being sold. Wait a minute!! Wasn't that lady at United going to charge me to get on the same plane with Angie? Whatever.

The flight is great. Sleeping pills work wonders on a red-eye flight. We arrive in London and proceed to English immigration counter. I'm starting to get nervous, but we decided that honesty is the best way to go. We tell the guy what the situation is (her working, me looking for work) and he says:

"You know you can't work on a visitor's visa. Just be sure you follow the proper procedures for getting a work visa and leave/re-enter the country properly if you do find work. Now be on your way."

??? I love the crack security in Canada for someone visiting England, but England is just like, "eh, whatever." Fine by me. And our adventure continues on the long tube ride from Heathrow to the connecting Central Line in London proper. Here is where it gets fun...

As we are heading up the escalator to get to the Central line, I'm pulling/pushing the large suitcase, carrying my backpack (nearly 50 lbs as well) and lugging the large duffel bag, while Angie leads the way with the heavy carry-on sized suitcase and her carry-on bags. As I approach the escalator, I try to get the suitcase on one of the steps straightaway. But I misjudged and it's balanced on the edge of the step above the step in front of me. So I try to slightly pull it back towards me, but apparently I pulled just a weeee bit too much. Being not so balanced with my heavy backpack and the heavy duffel slung over one shoulder, I proceed to fall over backwards, down the escalator. Fortunately there was no one directly behind me, because I fell down 2-3 steps. Two guys down the escalator a bit run up and help me get up asking if I was all right. I respond, "Yeah, I'm ok. Now that's not something you see every day." They didn't laugh. I felt (deservedly) like such an ass, I had to try to make light of it somehow. Maybe I should have told them a pirate joke.

We got to the top. A guy in front of me who grabbed the toppled suitcase hands it back to me and the guys behind me ask again if I'll be ok. "Yeah" I grumble and I catch up with Angie who is rushing to get to our train connection. We get there as people are piling in and I ask her if we can just wait a minute. She looks at me a bit perturbed but agrees and then looks down at the blood that I have streaming from the palm of my hand and yells, "What the hell happened to you?" Apparently she was the only one on the escalator who did not see what happened so I fill her in.

Fortunately, the rest of the travel was fairly uneventful. We got to Chelmsford (where we are staying for the next 3-4 weeks while we look for a flat closer to London) and proceeded to crash out for close to 14 hours.

3 comments:

Jason M. said...

Wait, the Osprey pack saved your life! I am TOTALLY getting one of those now. ;)

savage said...

Pirate jokes will save your life one day.

Angie said...

"Masterful Skills"? Nice.