As I write this blog I am sitting on the
airplane. It’s almost 10pm (New Jersey time) and 4am (Paris time). In four
hours I will arrive in Paris and then get a connecting flight to Valencia where
I will finally arrive at noon and embrace the welcome of my host family.
Today has
been one of the craziest days of my entire life…
At 7am I
woke up, took a shower, and got dressed. Then I woke up all the girls by
playing “Some Nights” by Fun. and kept it on replay as we got ready. Mom got
Don’s Bagels for us, and I forced food down my throat even though I was too
nervous to feel the slightest hunger. At 9:15 we took our final group shots
together and the tears began to fall. I could never put into words how much I
love and each and every one of my friends. Thinking that I won’t be there with
them for Christmas, birthdays, prom, and every other night of the week seems
impossible. I’ll be back next week right? (I’m just kidding Unlce Jack I would
never break our pink promise) But still. Those last hugs will never sustain me
an entire year. I’m just going to have to face the homesickness and get over
it.
Next came
the Philadelphia Airport… Now, I’m going to do my best not to complain, but I
hope you can sympathize with how I already felt after saying goodbye to everything
I’ve ever known. Almost everything that could have gone wrong did
go wrong. I say almost because… well… let me just explain the whole experience…
When I was
checking in my luggage the woman didn’t understand why my visa is going to
expire in 3 months to we were sent to “Special Services”. There, I checked my
bags where the man asked me to pay the $100 dollar fee for my second piece of
luggage. The problem was, I had already paid for it last night online and
didn’t print the receipt. Thankfully, it all worked out and he found on his
computer that I had indeed paid the fee.
Going
through security I dropped my 40lb carry on bag on a man’s foot and he freaked
out. His reaction was unnecessary but after apologizing once I refused to be
embarrassed or let it get to me.
I made it
to my departure gate and sat there for an hour and a half because of rain
delays. When we finally boarded the plan we sat for another 30min and then
pulled out onto the runway. At that point all flights leaving Philadelphia were
stopped because of the weather. We sat on the runway for over an hour and then
had to head back to our gate to refuel before actually taking off. Once again I
remained patient. Then, the flight attendants notified us that we needed to
deplane (which means we all had to get off) and could wait for this plane to
leave at a later time or book a new flight. Babies were crying, people were
frustrated, and I began to realize what an interesting experience this was
going to turn into.
I was so
polite (and stupid) that I let the impatient passengers exit and clear the isle
before I tried to squeeze out. That landed me a spot at the very end of the
line to rebook flights. I gotta tell ya, I was really praying for a positive
and calm attitude at this point. I knew I would eventually get to Dénia, but I
just didn’t know how.
At 4:30 I
made it up to the desk where the woman instructed me to get back on the same
plane and go to JFK airport where I could find a later connecting flight to
Paris and not even miss my third flight to Valencia. As I was walking down the
tunnel to board the plane, the flight was cancelled. Yeah… For Real… Are you
sympathizing with me yet!?!?
This time I ran back to the desk (I learned my lesson the
first time). An extremely rude Italian family cut in front of me but I took a
deep breath and remember that I would eventually get my turn, and it wasn’t a
big deal. Finally, the Delta employee found me a flight leaving from Philly at
6:30 that would take me directly to Paris where I would still be early to catch
my final flight to Valencia. I was greatly appreciative for her help, but I was
tired, hungry, had too pee, and it felt like knives were stabbing my feet.
(Claire you were right, I should have worn sneakers or something closed toed) I
managed to run over my toes and drop my bag a few times. Two young German guys
were clearly checking me out and giving me the once-over several times on the escalator but I laughed because they must not
have high standards. To be honest, I looked like a mess at that point so I
don’t know what they were looking at.
I made my
way from Delta gate D8 all the way to US Airways terminal A-22. That probably
means nothing to you, but I walked over a mile to get there. Thank God for
Chick Fil A because I really needed to sit down and refuel my achy body. I was
sick of the airport and after eight hours, I never thought I’d breath fresh air
again.
Finally at 6:00 (after two more
rain delays) I got on an airplane! WOOHOOOO!!!
We left at 6:40 and I’m sitting next to a sweet French boy.
We didn’t talk much because of his broken English, but we exchanged names, and
I gave him a piece of gum to help his ears adjust to the air pressure change.
At least I broke the ice so all 8 hours wouldn’t be completely awkward.
We were
both watching movies when I realized that the flight attendants were collecting
everyone’s trash from dinner. The dinner that my partner and I had never
received.
I mean
sersiouly!? What is up with all of this!? God, if this is your first lesson for
me then okay! I got it! I’m being kind and patient and laughing off the
frustration as it hits me. But how many tests must I pass before you chill out
and let me have a break? I’m tired and really just want to lay in a big bed
where I can stretch freely and rest. Please God, no more lessons for today.
Every part of me is drained and exhausted…
On the
bright side I’m really proud of myself for staying calm and knowing that
everything was in God’s hands. I didn’t get lost at all (even during the mile
walk), made new friends with lots of interesting people, and became comfortable
with being in an airport. Seriously, after my Chick-Fil-A-Food-Boost I felt
refreshed and walked to my gate with more confidence. My back may be broken in
a few places, but other than that I’m building sick muscles from lugging around
60lbs of luggage with me everywhere I go… including the bathroom stall… Hhahah
I already feel more like an adult. It’s kinda cool.
It’s not eleven O’clock and we will land in three hours in
Paris. I’m praying for no more difficulties and maybe a blink of sleep. I
apologize for the long blog, but I really needed to vent about all of today’s
incidents.
Philadelphia aiport, Mr. Naphas was right… You win the award
for being the worst!
-----------------------------------------------
I made it
to Denia!! I only slept for an hour on the plan ride to Paris, so I was super
exhausted. In Paris I had to go through security again and they took everything
out of my carry on because apparently something looked suspicious in the
scanner. The next plane to Valencia was much smaller and my carry on suitcase
wouldn’t fit in the overhead bin. The flight attendant freaked out on me
because apparently “I should have known not to pack so much!” like are you
serious lady!?! I wanted to cry. I was so embarrassed. After such a long day and so many difficulties, I really didn't need her attitude.
At noon we
landed in Valencia and OF COURSE my luggage didn’t arrive. For all we know it
could still be in New York or Paris. My host dad was really positive and kept
reassuring me that everything would be okay and I had nothing to worry about,
but I couldn’t help but feel terrible.
We drove
home to Denia, ate lasagna for lunch, and I went to bed. The house is
BEAUTIFUL! It’s much smaller than my house in Pitman, but way nicer. I’ll
upload pictures later. Yaco, the dog, is so docile and lovable. He has a loud
bark, but I love it because it reminds me of Bell.
Hopefully
my luggage with arrive tomorrow or I will have to wait until Sunday. It’s been
a long 48 hours… Buenos Noches!
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