Arrival

My flight from the US was OK, as far as flights go. I only just managed to catch my flight from Chicago to London because my connection out of Detroit was about 40 minutes late (figures).

I landed in Heathrow around 7:00AM. My anxiety mounted as I waited in the immigrations line and watched people ahead of me get the third degree. But the officer who checked my passport literally did not say a single word to me--he just stamped my visa and waved me through.

After collecting my bags (they were, of course, the last two there), I made my way to the arrivals terminal. I was anxious about the arrival because when I had last spoke with my host family, they had been told that I had an orientation with CAPA (the institution that runs our program) upon arrival, but that was not what I had been told. However, I had been told that there would be CAPA representatives in the airport to take students to the student flats, so I figured I would just check in with them and then go from there. But I did not find any representatives from CAPA (the institution that runs my program)--perhaps because my flight had landed about a half an hour late.

I went to an ATM (or cashpoint, as they say here) and withdrew some money. Then I went to sit down (my backpack was heavy and my luggage cumbersome) to collect my thoughts and figure something out. I knew that trains ran from Heathrow to Ealing, the borough where my homestay was. But I didn't think that just showing up at my homestay was a good idea, particularly not if they thought they were supposed to be picking me up at a different time.

First I found a pay phone and called CAPA to figure out if I needed to be somewhere for them. Their offices were helpfully closed until 9:00AM (it was just after 8:00AM at this point). So I made my way, with all of my belongings in tow, to the train terminals to investigate schedules. As I went, I hoped that there was a phone there, because it was quite a walk from the arrival terminal and I wanted to call the Martins before actually doing anything.

The train schedules were quite easy to read and figure out; the Piccadilly Underground line ran right from Heathrow to Ealing and tickets were less than five pounds. There was a phone there, but it decided that it did not like my credit card and I had only twenty pound notes, so I had to go back up to the arrival terminal to use the phone.

Mrs. Martin answered right away and sounded quite surprised that there had been no one there from CAPA to meet me. She also said that I had gotten a letter, a packet from CAPA, which I supposed had my orientation schedule in it. We discussed my various options for getting home and it was decided that she would pick me up from the train station in Ealing.

From there my journey went quite smoothly. The London tube is quite nice, clean with comfortable seats and very quiet. The British aren't much for chatting with strangers on public transportation, I guess (which is fine by me--I always hate being accosted by strangers on PAT buses). Mrs. Martin was there to get me and drive me home.

She was very kind and offered me tea as soon as we got in the door, which I accepted. It was now nearly 10:00. We talked for a bit as I drank my tea, and then she showed me the upstairs of the house.

It's a 100 year old house and big even by American standards. There are three levels, with the kitchen, a den, and a study on the first floor; bedrooms and a bathroom on the second floor, and two bedrooms and a bathroom on the third floor. Maria, the Spanish exchange student, and I live on the third floor and share a bathroom. My room is a loft room, which means that the roof slopes down at the back. It's a nice room, bigger than my room in FC 305. My only real complaint about it is that I have no closet, but all of my clothes fit in the dresser anyway.

Against all of the advice I had been given I napped for about two hours. After the nap and a shower I finally felt like a human again. That afternoon, after I unpacked, I set out to explore Ealing.

Ealing's a beautiful little suburb, mostly residential but with a nice shopping district. There is an Underground station within a twenty-minute walk from the house, and if I ever feel like it there are buses I can take between the house and the station. There was a Carphone Warehouse, so I bought myself a phone. It seemed much easier than buying a cell phone in America, but perhaps pay-as-you-go phones in the US are equally as easy. I only paid 10 pounds for the phone.

I had some electrical difficulties with my computer yesterday evening--as in I shorted all the circuits upstairs. I don't really understand why that happened, since my laptop is supposed to be compatible with the voltage here and I had an adapter. They were able to get the lights all back on, but now none of the wall outlets on the third floor work. Mr. Martin is in the States until Saturday, and will apparently be able to take a look at it when he gets back. I hope I didn't do any terrible damage; I felt really awful about it.

So I am writing this from the CAPA center, which I just got to today. I don't have my orientations until tomorrow, but I picked up my Oyster card (gives me unlimited Tube and bus rides) and hopped online. Hopefully by next week I will be able to use my computer at home, though I am scared to plug it into anything now lest I set the house on fire or something.

For the rest of today, I am going to go locate Imperial College and then do some exploring around the CAPA center, which is where all of my classes will be.

Things I miss so far include but are not limited to peanut butter (My host family has peanut butter, but it is this sort of crunchy organic variety. It's actually quite good and I would like it at home, but I really want Jif. I'm going to see if I can find some anywhere and stash it in my room.) and walking on the right side of the street (it was easy to get used to seeing traffic on the wrong side of the street, but walking on the left is quite odd).

It has been overcast and foggy since I arrived, but fairly warm--it can't have been less than 35 or 40 outside. Feels and looks like March, as far as I am concerned, but Mrs. Martin is worried that I'm going to freeze since I leave the house without a hat. My goal for next week is to get used to operating in Celsius.

Pictures tomorrow, perhaps, depending on my internet situation.