33 Hours of Waking Walk to this Lovely City

I arrived in Edinburgh two days ago, to this sight, on Wednesday January 7th, tired and delusional from the trip, but silently quite happy, a feeling that has developed well over the past few days. I departed from Minnesota at 7AM on Tuesday, which meant waking up at 4:30AM with groggy eyes and groggy, wonderfully adaptable parents. I left the Minneapolis airport to arrive in JFK at about 10:30AM (I shall always list times in their respective time zones) and I navigated the enormity of the place until I found my bags, lugged them up to the check-in lines, and discovered that I wasn’t sure where to go. I was flying with Virgin Atlantic for the first time in my life, and so I followed some Virgin (ahem) signs and saw some Virgin America check-in lines. I talked to the man there who told me that no, they weren’t the same thing, and that Virgin Atlantic doesn’t even open their ticket lines until 2 or 3PM. Tired, thirsty, hungry, and so forth, I lugged my bags downstairs, to the mall of sorts they have behind security, and I found what seemed like the only available outlet in the place, where I promptly camped out with my computer, a wireless day pass, and a nervous heart.

When 2PM came around and I’d watched my fair share of Daily Show, Colbert Report, and Family Guy (so much collegiate viewing!), I’d decided that the stares people were giving me for sitting on the floor (which I think were actually just stares they didn’t register I could see perfectly well, as they assumed I was deaf and blind while I had a computer) had become a bit too uncomfortable, and I packed up and went laboriously back to the ticket line. There I was greeted by a good-sized line, and a lot of those people with red ribbons on their bags, a distinctive mark of IFSA-Butler students. I got into line, and my passport was requested from a staff member. I presented it, whereupon the woman laughed, and asked “Is this you?” ... ‘Yes... it was a different phase of my life though’. The picture in question showed a Riordan with a ponytail, no glasses, and a tie-dyed shirt. Quite different, but still recognizable. She demanded additional identification. No one else - not even Customs - did that. I guess I should be... grateful?

Once my bags and identity were both checked, I continued into the terminal and made my way towards my gate, where I found many fellow IFSA students, all waiting for the same group flight across the pond. I met up with my two fellow Connecticut College students as well who are, rather coincidentally, going on the exact same program. We all made awkward small talk asking names, home universities, majors, and other requisite questions. Some of us even played ‘Go Fish’. After a while, the excitement and rush of travel started to ebb away, and weariness and nerves started to overtake the crowd. 4 hours gives ample opportunity for that - and I’d had 4 hours before then even. At long last, we boarded our plane - the very first plane with a second story and full bar that I’d ever seen. We filed on back, and I settled into the middle seat between an IFSA student by the window and a Brit by the aisle who was no novice at flying - within five minutes, she was set up with the full nine yards - neck pillow, sleep mask, blanket, seatbelt on top of the blanket (before I even knew you had to do that). I was impressed. After some good conversation with Darcy, the IFSA student, I tried my best to read, which lasted all of twenty minutes, and then I tried my best to sleep, which lasted all of the entire plane ride. Note that the key word is tried here, and I happened to fail spectacularly. With the minor enjoyable interruptions of dinner and breakfast (in actual time only about 3-4 hours apart), I attempted to sleep, but me being quite a tall man, and sitting in the middle seat with nothing to lean against, with the chair in front of me being leaned back as far as possible, I was in no position to sleep. Or to move, for that matter. Quite fortunately, I had my iPod, and I had purchased a Zen Garden application in the JFK airport, which simulated just that, along with varieties of ambient sounds on loop. Thus, I listened to sounds of rain, shut my eyes, and had my best attempt at meditating. It was a good lesson in will power. It was also quite difficult.

We arrived in Heathrow at around 8AM, whereupon we all stumbled through Customs (not nearly as stressful as I’d expected) and made little jokes about the moose-like logo of the airport: and enjoyed the English accents and mannerisms. We proceeded to our gate and sat wearily about until British Midlands Airlines were ready to fly us to Edinburgh. That flight I was more fortunate on. I sat by the window, and had one of those moments where I fell asleep while the flight crew were talking, awoke after what I thought was five minutes time, only to hear “We are beginning our descent now”. I fared better then. This was my first sight of Scotland:

We collected our baggage (I was quite grateful for the presence of both bags) and boarded buses to Apex International Hotel, in the very heart of the city of Edinburgh. We had the afternoon to freshen up a bit, dinner at 6PM, and then, for me, a bedtime of 7:30PM. I had been awake for 33 hours, with only intermittent naps, the longest being the one hour flight to Edinburgh. I crashed and slept more soundly than in quite some time until 7AM - almost 12 hours. Thus Riordan did conquer jet lag before it could even greatly affect him.

More to come soon. Sporadic internet at the time though. I hope you are all quite well indeed.