Wednesday morning I awoke at 8:00 a.m. at my friends' Nancy and Karl's house . They put me up for the night so I wouldn't have to spend my last night in the U.S. on the floor of my apartment and so that I could make it to my final dental appointment on time. After the dental appointment--my teeth are in good shape--I finished, or should say reached a time-driven compromise regarding the fate of the remaining contents of my apartment. My divinely wonderful friend Amy made yet another trip from New Hampshire to Waltham and helped me shovel the last of my belongings into either the suitcase or the stack of bags, buckets, and boxes that either went to her house, my brother's place, or with me in a suitcase. She was even generous enough to efficiently pack my suitcase while I ran away for an hour to have a massage to loosen the knots from my back so I could have a reasonably comfortable 6 hour plane ride.
I overloaded Amy's car one last time at 1:30, bid her farewell, and sent her on her way. I finally finished closing my apartment in Waltham at 2:45 p.m. Yes, that's just four hours before my flight left Boston. I called my building's property manager as I was driving to Peter's to tell him that I was leaving a stack of empty boxes and my couch. He was not happy, but said that he would get someone to remove it and then send me my security deposit minus the cost of the removal. I hope to see that money soon.
I made it to my brother's house at 3:15, leaving me 15 minutes to run to the bathroom, change t-shirts but not shower (which I would later regret), and then throw my luggage into his Jeep so he and Rowan could drive me to the airport.
I got on the American Airlines flight at 5:40 and took off for Barcelona at 6:10 p.m. EST. The flight was six hours long, plus add in the six hour gain in time difference between Boston and Paris, where I had a layover, and I arrived in Paris at about 6:55 a.m. with no more than about 60 minutes of sleep on the entire flight. I was VERY tired. My flight to Barcelona was scheduled to leave at 10:15 a.m., a brief three hour layover that turned into 5.5 hours when Air France told me that they had overbooked the flight and I didn't have a seat. I volunteered to take the next flight and Air France promptly gave me 110? for my trouble. It's a good thing because the next thing I know, I arrived in Barcelona's airport at 2:15 p.m. wihtout my luggage. Air France, in their infinite
wisdom, decided that my luggage should also be bumped so that it won't arrive on my door step until sometime Friday morning. Grrrr. They have exceeded the value of 110? in my estimation because I had to meet my host at his flat while smelling awful, looking like I had been mugged. My greater concern now is that I'll have to meet my new classmates at orientation tomorrow in the same smelly clothes that I've been wearing since Wednesday morning. Eeeeewwwww. What a way to make a first impression...I want them to know I'm a clean cut (and clean smelling) American.
On the positive side, the flat is VERY nice, I am rooming with another CELTA teacher trainee--James, from NYC. He's pretty cool as is our host, Jordi. So folks, the adventure has begun...more later. It's 11:22 p.m. and I'm heading back from the internet cafe to catch some well deserved sleep. It's now been 36 hours since I've slept, so I'm going to crash.
I'm somewhat confused.
I distinctly remember packing five shirts
in your 'to be checked' bag and
leaving the sixth shirt on a hanger
for your carryon, just in case your luggage
did not precede your arrival. Apparently
it was my neglect in not going over the
carry on luggage that you packed solo
that resulted in your lack of clothes.
Please forgive me for not being a
more helpful companion in the hours
before your international departure. ;)
The line between excessive mothering;
and 'sink or swim' is difficult for me
to navigate.
Hope you smell better this week!