As many of you may know, there is a little volcano that is exploding in Iceland right now. It's causing devastation within the country as well as abroad. As of last Thursday, all air traffic to and from the U.K., Ireland, Germany, France, Switzerland, the Netherlands, Northern Italy, and Scandinavia has been grounded. Airlines are losing hundreds of millions of dollars, and Europe is filled with 'refugees' trying to find their way home during the worst air disaster since 9/11, according to BBC. To make this story the most relevant, I'll begin my spring break tale with its final chapter: the Journey Home.
Thursday, April 16 -
I woke up in the super-hostel in Sorrento feeling completely refreshed and ready to head back to Scotland for an amazing final weekend. I got out of bed, took a shower, and was brushing my teeth when Cassandra told me to come look at the TV. We couldn't believe what we were seeing. BBC was reporting that the volcano eruptions in Iceland earlier in the week were spreading massive clouds of ash through the atmosphere above the United Kingdom, so all flights to and from the U.K. on Thursday were canceled. We thought it could be some kind of sick belated April Fool's prank, but this was real life. Looking for answers, we quickly got on the internet. Ryanair's site told us that all of their flights to the U.K. were canceled for the day. The only thing we could think to do was to get to Rome and the airport later in the day and get sorted from there. We went back to the room, packed up our bags, and headed to the train station. We had some time to kill, so we stopped for coffee at a café. I couldn't stop thinking about what to do. It was weighing on our minds, so to kill time and keep our minds occupied, we did what anyone would do and went to get gelato. After that we walked through Sorrento's markets and bought a few things to further alleviate our stress. I found some souvenirs, and Cassandra helped me pick out some ties. Three Italian ties for ten euros was too good of a deal to pass up :) Eventually it was time to get on the train to Naples and eventually the train to Rome. After a few hours of Toilet Solitaire and crossword puzzles, it was time to get sorted at the airport. We joined the huge line and made friends with a bunch of Scottish people who were in the same situation we were. They were really friendly, and we eventually made it to the desk after two and a half hours or so. As we were standing in line I was looking around the airport, and I saw none other than my friend Mitch. He was from Florida and studying in Scotland as well! He joined up with us and tried to get sorted as well. Cassandra got rebooked on a flight to Valencia in the morning, and she was planning to take a train back to Alicante. I got put on a flight to Edinburgh at 10:00 Monday morning, and the airport put me up in a pretty nice hotel for four nights. Mitch elected to stay in a hostel in Rome for the night and try to travel and get another flight at a later date. Eventually I had to be rushed out to the hotel's shuttle, so I had to say a quick goodbye to Cassandra and run out the door. She was planning to stay in the airport all night but eventually found a way to a five-star hotel with one of the Scottish families for the night... Nicely done :) I made it to the hotel and used the internet in the lobby for a few hours trying to get sorted. Eventually I fell asleep until noon the next day.
I woke up on Friday, took a very long, relaxing shower, and then headed to the nearest supermarket (a few blocks away) to pick up the essential food for survival: cookies, crackers, and fruit. Walking back to the hotel, I stopped into a small pizzeria and spent about ten minutes trying to order a piece of pizza. The workers didn't speak English and I only sing Italian, so the process was slow but I eventually left with a delicious piece of Italian pizza. I made it back to the hotel and spent the afternoon watching 24 on my computer, munching on fruit and cookies, and waiting to hear from Cassandra. I wasn't nearly motivated enough to venture into Rome to see the Vatican City, so I figured on doing that on Saturday. Things were looking up when I heard from Cassandra that she had made it back to Alicante safely, and then I checked my flight's status on Ryanair's website. On the site's homepage in bright red letters read, "Ryanair extends flight cancellations through Monday at 13:00." My heart sank. My flight was canceled again. I don't want to say that I panicked, but I was certainly at a loss for what to do next. I felt pretty numb, ate another cookie, and started to think. I went down to the lobby to ask at the reception if they had any advice, and the workers there told me to try and book trains to get home. After unsuccessfully attempting that, I went back to the lobby and met a young English couple named Ben and Lydia. They were trying to get to Lyon, France, to meet up with Ben's dad and drive back to Britain. I thought that sounded like a decent option, so I tried to make plans with them. I ate supper with them in their room. They were kind and shared their bread, meat, and cheese with me. I contributed cookies and chips to our feast. It was nice chatting with them because it took my mind off of things for a while. I went to my room around midnight and chatted with my dad for a while, weighing my options. We decided that the best option was to be proactive and try to get as far north as possible by train. Although I had decided my course of action and prayed for a way home, I went to sleep still feeling a little helpless.
Saturday morning I got up and ate breakfast with Ben and Lydia, and we decided that they would head to the station while I got sorted at the hotel. If I could leave and potentially not come back while still maintaining my reservation, I would pack up and head to the station as well. The reception told me that I could do that, so I hurried to pack and get to the station. I took the next bus and the subway around 9:15 and arrived to the station at 10:00. I found Ben and Lydia standing in a 400-person line, waiting to ask questions at the ticket desk (In hindsight I realize that getting to the ticket desk was a waste of time. They would only have told us that every train's seat was booked for the next three days). People were everywhere, scrambling to get on trains and find tickets. It was madness. Ben then got a call from his dad in France. This was the call we were waiting for. If his dad could meet us somewhere by the end of the day, we could be in the car and on our way home that night. While Ben was on the phone, I stopped a worker and asked him when the next train to Milan was. He told me that it was leaving in ten minutes (at 10:15) and that there were no other trains to Milan on Saturday. It was crunch time. Either Ben got off the phone saying we could meet his dad that night or I was running to the platform. The latter happened. Ben's dad couldn't meet us until Sunday at the earliest, so I wished them luck and ran to the platform. The train was just getting ready to leave when I ran up to it. I found a worker and asked him if I could buy a ticket on the train, and he gave me a half answer and walked away. I debated between going without a ticket and facing the consequences or staying in Rome for the next few days, and as the door was sliding shut (it seemed) I jumped on the train to Milan. I found my way to the bar/food car and met a couple of people in the same situation. One girl was heading to Paris and another man was heading to London. They didn't have tickets either. Halfway to Milan the ticket man came around and asked us if we had tickets. After we told him no, he took a credit card machine out from behind him and told us to buy them from him. What a relief! The risk paid off, literally. 89 euros later I was safely headed to Milan.
I got a text from Mitch that said, "What are you up to? In Milan. Thinking about heading back to Rome." I responded and told him to stay put because I'd be to Milan in an hour. After we got to the station (around 1:30) we found Mitch and the couple went to a café for lunch. We met a French man on the train who said that there was a train to Paris at 4:00 and that he was jumping on without a ticket just like he did to get to Milan. We decided to meet on the train. Mitch and I enjoyed some McDonald's while we shared our stories. His was crazy and involved a lot of trains, buses, and sleeping in the train station on the ground. That's all I've got to say. We eventually made it to the train at 4:00 and were on our way to Paris!
The ride to Paris took eight hours, and we had to sit on the floor in the very back of the train. Aside from having a sore tailbone and legs, the ride was pretty scenic. We went through the French alps and got to see a lot of the country before it got dark. We met other people on the train and spent the time napping, reading, and listening to music. Eventually, while still in Italy, the Italian ticket man came around asking passengers to pay for their tickets with cash only. As much as I didn't want to, Mitch and I paid in cash rather than waiting for the card man to come around like the Italian man said he would. No card man ever came around once we got into France.
Those who didn't have cash/wanted to pay with cards got the train for free. We were down 95 euros, but we figured it was good karma. When we got to Paris a college-age couple that we met on the train was helping us figure out what to do next. We had to get to Calais, a small town on the northern coast that had ferries to Dover, England. We couldn't find out when the trains to Calais were, so the guy invited me and Mitch to use the internet and sleep for a few hours at his flat just outside the city. It was amazingly generous of him, and we owe him big time. If we ever make it back to Paris we're going to get in touch with him and his girlfriend and take them out for supper. They deserve it. We looked up the trains and ferries at his place and got to sleep by 3 a.m.
We woke up at 6 and headed to the train station by 7. We got there fifteen minutes before the train to Calais, bought our tickets from the machines, and ran to the train. The ride was so amazing because we actually had seats! By 10:30 we were in Calais. Next, we took a shuttle bus to the ferry station where we bought tickets for the 12:25 ferry. Normally the tickets are 26 pounds, but the ferry companies were making the most of a bad situation and the tickets ended up being 65 pounds a piece. Ridiculous, I know, but that's business. Fortunately, Mitch and I got through customs and security really quickly and made it onto the ferry at 11:40. There's that good karma coming through! At 1 p.m. we were on a high speed train to London, and we met a few other people traveling to England and Scotland. It was fun to listen to their tales and to share our successes. Upon arrival at the station in London, we found out that trains ran to Glasgow every hour, so we planned to take the next one at 3:25 that arrived in Glasgow at 8:00. We were so close to home that we could taste it. At 3:15 we got in line for the train, but too many people were waiting so we didn't get a spot. We got red vouchers that reserved us a seat on the next train at 4:25, so we killed the hour and got to the platform as soon as it was announced. The workers told us that the people with the vouchers who didn't get on the earlier train were to head to car H. It turns out that car H was a first-class car. Let me tell you, first-class train cars are like heaven on tracks. With seats like clouds, power outlets, and wireless internet, Mitch and I were in luxury on our last leg home to Glasgow. After watching "O Brother, Where Art Thou?" and most of "Superbad," we found ourselves stepping off the train back home in Scotland by 9. We wanted to kiss the ground, but that would most likely prove fatal. As badly as we wanted to stop at a pub for some Scottish food and a pint, we headed straight for our dorms and our beds.
It was an unbelievable trip from Rome all the way to Glasgow.
36 hours, 1600 miles, 5 trains, one ferry, 3 hours of sleep, and £400 later, I was home, safe and sound. It wasn't easy and it was definitely scary to take the steps to get home, but I'm glad I did. No regrets. It's amazing how a tragedy can bring out the best in people. The trip home let me see some of the best in human nature. People helping others, giving advice, money, and even housing when necessary, it was uncanny. For all of the well-wishes, positive vibes, and prayers for my journey home, I'm truly thankful. I'm not sure what would have happened without them. I've heard messages about answered prayer and divine favor, but never have I realized it when it's happening. Meeting the right people, leaving/arriving at places at just the right time, taking risks, and having those risks pay off positively so many times throughout the last two days have shown me what's possible when you've got a little faith. Coincidences? Maybe, but maybe not. Either way, the adventure was totally worth every minute of lost sleep and every cent of spent money.
Thus ends my European Spring Break tale. I hope you enjoyed reading about it. I certainly enjoyed living it :)
(Stay tuned for the rest of the tale in the coming days!)
The first stop on my two-week spring break adventure was a return trip to London, England. I was meeting up with Cassandra and some of her friends from her program in Spain. I flew out of Glasgow on Friday night, so I grabbed a bus to the airport in the afternoon. I made sure to get my ticket stamped and then made it through security and onto the flight. As I was sitting in my window seat I noticed a girl walking down the aisle with a terrified look on her face. She got to my row and asked, "Excuse me, but can I sit with you? This is my first flight ever and I'm kind of freaked out." It would be a pretty cruel person to reject the poor young lady, so I let her share the row. Her name was Kristen, and she was traveling home to visit some friends for the weekend in London. To keep her mind off of the flight I tried to ask her as many questions as possible for the hour-long flight. When we landed I helped her find the exit at the airport, said goodbye, and then found a coffee shop to wait for the girls. One cappuccino and some reading later, the girls' flight from Spain arrived. Cassandra introduced me to our group: Jacqueline (from Iowa, and we had actually been on an intramural sand volleyball team together during freshman year), Hillary (from Colorado), and Anna (from Ohio). We caught up on our bus ride to Baker Street and then walked to our hostel. After a long walk I had to ask a man cleaning the street if we were heading in the right direction. His British accent nearly brought the girls to tears. Eventually we found the hostel and got to our dorm-style room. It was nearly 2:30 a.m., so we had to search for open beds by cell phone light. We all found beds, but sleep was nearly impossible for me. I was jacked up on the cappuccino, the room was really hot, and I was surrounded by a symphony of snoring. Not even Norah Jones could put me to sleep. The strongest snores were coming from the bunk below me, so I had to find out who it was in the morning.
After about an hour of sleep I got out of bed around 7 and discovered the snoring culprit to be a petite girl. Interesting. We kicked off the day with breakfast in the hostel and then started a lengthy walking tour of the city's highlights. It started in Hyde Park, which is a huge park with a small river/lake called 'the Serpentine' running through it. The walk through the park was really nice. There were monuments, fountains, and statues all over, and people were running, walking dogs, and even riding horses. The park exits into Constitution Hill, which leads to Buckingham Palace. We stopped for pictures at the palace and continued our walk through St. James Park, which runs along the Mall all the way to Parliament, Big Ben, and Westminster Abbey. I was interested in exploring the inside of Westminster until I saw the lines. In both directions from the entrance, the lines wrapped around the abbey for unknown lengths. We decided to cross the River Thames and see the sights along it. 
We passed the London Aquarium, the London Eye, bunches of shops, the Globe Theater, and a lot of interesting street acts. Eventually we got to Tower Bridge, which is always a nice sight, and crossed it and began our journey home from the Tower of London. We walked through the downtown business district of London and past St. Paul's cathedral, where there was an enormous pillow fight going on. We weren't sure why, but it's England so it's okay :) We eventually made it to Oxford Street, which is kind of like Michigan Avenue in Chicago with a ton of hotels, shopping, theaters, etc. We almost made it back to the hostel but eventually we had to give in and get a taxi. It was definitely worth the money because our cab driver was hilarious. 
He was cursing at the radio and its football updates, he drove us by Tony Blair's house, and we analyzed a couple fighting at a street corner. I love British folks. We calculated our walking distance while relaxing for a few hours back at the hostel, and we had walked nearly 12 miles. My dogs was barkin'! After a nap we headed to a pub called "the Swan" so the girls could experience the beauty of pub culture/food. We headed back to the hostel, played a few games of Uno, and then went to bed. Sleeping was much easier the second night.
We woke up Easter Sunday morning, grabbed breakfast, and headed to Hillsong London for church. It was amazing. Seriously. They held it in a Broadway theater on Oxford Street, there were tons of people, and the Easter production was an amazing blend of lights, music, break dancing, gang violence, pimps, and Jesus. I could go to that church every week :) We got out of the church and ran into a few American guys who were stationed just North of London for the Air Force. We asked them where we should go for the afternoon, and they told us to head to Camden Town. That was some great advice. Camden Town is the area of London where punk originated, and it is basically an enormous maze of markets and shops. The area was bustling with people, 
and we wandered in the labyrinth for a few hours. The best part about the area was that hidden in the center of the shops was an enormous ethnic food court. There was food from every corner of the globe, and I wanted to try everything. After we 'tubed' back to the city, we decided to try and see a few museums.
They were closed when we arrived, but we ran into a guy from the Netherlands named Roy. Roy was spending a week in London and his friends had left early, so he was just walking around seeing the sights like us. He joined our group and we headed to the best place to kill a few hours: a pub. We got drinks, seats, and Roy bought us nachos. I knew he was cool. Hillary and Anna got a group of English guys to kneel on the ground and serenade them, so the pub trip was a success. After we finished our drinks we walked through Picadilly Circus back to the hostel, picked up our bags, grabbed some McDonald's for a late supper, said goodbye to Roy, and headed to the airport to spend the night until our 6:30 a.m. flight to Dublin!
