The Beginning of My Harlaxton Experience August 29, 2013
My adventure to Harlaxton started
off a bit rocky. First, while I was in line a man came around and was telling
everyone that if we emptied our pockets before it was our turn that it would
make things move faster. Well, my arms were full. I began to clumsily pull out
the belonging in my pocket. My wallet, so deodorant (That I couldn't fit in my
bag), some papers, my headphones (Which fell on the floor), and my chap stick
(Which also fell on the floor). There was this amazingly attractive boy behind
me in line who picked up my headphones and said that I dropped them. He had a
British accent and I was instantly in love. (British accents just get me every
time).I had seen that my chapstick had fallen as well, but I was too top heavy
with my backpack on that I couldn't bend down without falling and making a fool
of myself. Luckily, the rather attractive British boy behind me picked it up
and said, “I believe you dropped this
too.” I told him thank you so much, but that wasn't so bad right?
Shortly after my beloved grandmother
Betsy sent me on my way to get in line for security I did the normal thing.
Empty your pockets, take off your shoes, everything in the bucket, you know,
the standard things. Well, little did I know that if you were traveling with a
laptop it needed to be out of your bag and in a separate bucket. My things
passed through the security scanner while I was busy standing straight, holding
my hands above my head, and attempting to act calm. I don’t know why but
passing through security makes me nervous sometimes, okay, all the time.
Anyways, I got passed security and all was fine, right? Wrong. The lady dealing
with the luggage called me over and said, “Are you traveling with a laptop?” My
reply, of course, was “yes.” She instructed me to stand back and reach towards
the bag at any time. She then proceeded to take me over to a separate spot and
put on gloves. This mad me so nervous that my entire body began to sweat. She unzipped
my bag, (Which Betsy had ever so carefully so that everything would fit. She
continued to pull out my survival supplies. Out came a pair of freshly hymned
pants, then the shoes, some snacks for the plane, another backpack that was
stuffed with travel supplies, and finally the laptop bag. She took it out and
called to her co-worker. He came over and she told him to send everything back
through the security scanner and he took one look at all of my stuff and said,
“Was all of this in that bag?” She told him, "Yes.” He looked at her, then
me and said, “Good lord girly.”
After making through the security
scanner, I received my belongings and was moved to a table to repack my once
ever so carefully packed bag. There was no success. I stood at that table for a
good 45 minutes with no success. I gave up and mad it into two separate bags. I
wanted so badly to text Betsy and ask her if I could take two bags on, but I
had no Wi-Fi. I sat and panicked for a while until more people began to come. I
saw several people who had multiple bags to carry on. One girl had a guitar, a
purse, a coat, and a mini suitcase. Then I began to think, well maybe they paid extra for it? About an hour later boarding
began. I was the fourth group to go on because I was Zone 2. Sure enough, I
boarded the plane with no questions and both bags.
(Shortly after we took off and reached 30,000 feet)
So there we were, on the plane and
in the air, and we had TV’s! Except that, the first two ours of the flight they
didn’t work. I shortly learned that the
man I sat next to was named Grieg. We talked for a good two hours. I learned
that Grieg was originally from London. He currently lives in Florida and, was
on his way home to watch a soccer game. He told me that he took his graduation
exams at 15 and bought his first house at 17. He explained that “Back in his
day,” things like that were not unlikely. I asked him why in the world he would
move to Florida and leave London. He told me that London is a wonderful place
for teen and people in their twenties and early thirties. He explained that he
was married and had a family now and London was no place for a family to settle
down. We talked some more and he asked me if I had ever traveled alone before.
I told him no. He said that based on talking to me he thought I’d do just fine.
The plane began to rise into the air and I squinted my eyes shut. Before I knew
it, we were in the air and Grieg told me that you could hardly notice that I was
nervous (I know he was joking).
(The sunset)
Finally, the TV’s starting working
and I watched The Great Gatsby, (Yes, I LOVE The Great Gatsby). While watching
The Great Gatsby, I ate dinner on the plane. It was actually wonderful. I had
some water, a black bean patty with mushroom and spinach. Along with three slices
of pineapple, three grapes, three slices of muskmelon, and a salad. It was nice
for a meal in the air. For the remainder of the flight, (about four hours left, eight hours total) I
attempted to sleep and listened to music. Before I knew it, breakfast was
served and I was about to land in London. My journey of real travel was about
to begin. I said my goodbyes to Grieg and he wished me good luck and safe travels.
(Over London)
Off the plane, I went in hunt of bright orange
tags on luggage. The specimens with these affixed markings were my future colleagues.
I ran into two distressed looking girls with marking exact tags I was in search
of. I introduced myself and told them I would be quietly following them. We
made it through customs, found our bags, and found may more fellow colleges to
join our heard. We maneuvered down to the tube, found terminal 44, took it to
our destination of terminal three, and found a man with a sign that said “Harlaxton
College Students.” We had made it. We sat and waited for about 45 minutes for
more students to appear. Meanwhile, I ran into my future roommate (next
semester)/sorority sister Tori. We chatted about the summer and what this
semester would be like and then boarded the coaches. Our plan was to stay awake,
but we wake up with Tori’s head on my shoulder and my head on hers. We drove
past Harlaxton (the small village) and to the mile long driveway to our new
home, The Manor
(Harlaxton Manor)
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