Christmas Surprise

A few months ago, I was talking to my brother Chris on Skype. It was a normal conversation. We were talking about his study abroad and my personal experiences. There wasn’t anything overtly special about it other than I hadn’t talk to him in a while. Over the summer we had had several long telephone conversations about similar topics.

He finally asked what I was going to do for Christmas. Originally, I was hoping that one of my flat mates or friends would be able to host me for Christmas. That didn’t happen. Things fell through or people’s houses were already way too full. That sort of thing. Anyway, Chris asked about the possibility of coming home for a few days. I thought it was a possibility but also was a ludicrous idea. My brother is a kind of travel whore. He has even admitted to being way too attached to his passport. Within a minute of this idea he already had sent me some possible flight details.

The game plan was to fly me into St. Louis via Air Canada. My itinerary was from Heathrow to Toronto then Toronto to St. Louis on Christmas Day. He was going to have to drive through St. Louis anyway and it wouldn’t look suspicious at all. My brother was going to have to play a gig that morning in a church in Louisville and then drive up to Mount Pleasant. This isn’t the first Christmas that has had to happen and it surely won’t be the last. He would hit St. Louis at around 4:30 right as my flight got in.

The only problem with the plan, and it really wasn’t a problem but was more of a physical hurtle to cover was staying up all night in Heathrow just because my flight was so early in the morning. There was no reason to get a hotel. I had planned to stay up all night Christmas Eve watching movies on my laptop. The hesitation to buy the tickets lasted about 20 minutes. I felt that it was too good of an idea to pass up on. It also felt like it was straight out of a John Hughes movie a la Planes, Trains and Automobiles. It’s not surprising this came to mind considering I was going to have to utilize pretty much all forms of transport to get home.

I also needed to come up with a good lie or at the very least a good reason why I couldn’t skype with them on Christmas Day or Christmas Eve. The light bulb went off when I was talking with my flat mate Caitlin. My lie to my parents was that I had been invited on a trip down to France with her and her family. I had to modify it slightly when the trains between the UK and mainland Europe were cancelled due to bad weather. My family and I skyped on the 23rd. They asked why I had been invited. I hadn’t thought of how to answer that question but then another light bulb went off and without missing a beat I told them that with me in the picture, it brings the cost of the “trip” into group rate level. So, theoretically, I was doing them a favor by joining. After the conversation, I emailed Chris and told him that I had the perfect lie to cover our tracks.

On Christmas Eve around about noon, I quietly went up to Harborne to get a burger from the Plough. I ate quietly whilst slowly contemplating my travels ahead of me. I got a fat boy burger and a pint of purity ale. It was one of the most delicious burgers I’ve ever had. It consisted of a beef patty and a grilled chicken sandwiched between two buns. It was sort of like eating a mixed grille sandwich. It was delicious.

When I got back to my flat I decided to take a nap so I would have enough energy to stay awake that night. I had to stay awake so that I would crash on the plane. (I really shouldn’t use those two words in the same sentence: crash and plane.) I was awoken a few hours later by a phone call from my friend Victoria wishing me luck on my travels. I’m glad she called because it woke me up and got me focused. I had already packed the previous night on the 23rd.

I carried my bag and backpack down to University train station, transferred at New Street and then went on down to London Euston. Carrying my bag that far was the worst part of the journey. I was bringing home a lot of books. I hadn’t realized how heavy that would be. I could use many adjectives to describe that part of the journey. None of my adjectives would be very nice. The train ride to Euston wasn’t anything special. It was quiet and there were few people on board what with it being Christmas Eve.

I then carried my bag through the London Underground transferring at Green Park station onto the Piccadilly line to head straight to LHR. That took about 40 minutes. Once at LHR, I found out pretty quickly that all the ticket counters were shut off so I was going to have to spend the night in the arrivals section of the airport. That sucked because there was very little choice for food and drink on that side of the gate. I did find a 24 hour Costa. I plopped down and proceeded to watch movies all night on my laptop whilst sipping on some tea. I watched The Treasure of the Sierra Madre, The Conversation and The Night of the Hunter. All classic films and more importantly, all good films. There was very little which could be said of the evening other than it was surprising at how many other people were doing the same thing I was doing as well as one guy who I don’t think was all there. At one point he had a very vivid and very animated conversation with himself.

Once that was done, I finally got over to the ticket counter and waited to be checked in. I had a conversation with a man from Kenya who was heading to Canada. I also helped an Iranian woman, who could hardly speak any English with her bags. I hope she made it alright.

I then got through security and surprisingly enough, they did not make me take my shoes off. That was a first. Past security, there were a lot of stores in the departure gate. Several restaurants, jewelry stores, luggage shops and a few other gift/alcohol shops awaited beyond the security checkpoint. I killed time perusing stores. I bought some candy at a Boots store for the flight. I then decided to get something to help me sleep on the flight at a café. I ordered a scotch and plain water. The waitress gave me a strange look, checked her watch and shrugged her shoulders. It was 8 in the morning but I didn’t care. It was 5 o’clock somewhere.

I checked in at my gate and got a hot drink before boarding. Once on the plane I was hoping to fall asleep fast. Alas my best laid plans were all for naught. There were two screaming children a row or two back. I know it wasn’t their fault and that they didn’t understand but my God was it annoying.

I ended up watching more movies. In the span of 15 hours, I had watched six movies. I love movies but that’s just getting ridiculous.

In Toronto, customs was interesting. They asked me odd questions about why I, as an American, went through Canada to get to America. Once that was out of the way, I got some pizza and found my gate. It was an agonizing two and a half hour wait. The view of the city wasn’t that great either, through no fault of the airport. The weather was cloudy and there was a slight drizzle. I could barely make out the CN tower from a distance. I had been there some years prior so that was interesting to see it again albeit from a different perspective.

I crashed on the floor. I woke about 20 minutes later to the sound of some voices near me. Two people, who were also on the same flight as me, were quietly talking. We struck up a conversation. They lived and went to school in Wales though they weren’t Welsh or English. I couldn’t remember their nationality but it was an interesting conversation and, more importantly, it was a time killer. They made fun of the Welsh which was hilarious. When I got back, and asked my flat mates about this, they all agreed that the Welsh were the butt of many jokes. We shook hands and I checked into my flight.

I was excited. I was nearing the homestretch. I only had one two hour flight and a three hour car ride ahead of me. There were no hiccups or delays. Everything was sailing smoothly. The bad weather in the central part of the States was no problem. We flew over them. Looking down through the window, it was like looking down on mashed potatoes for the entire flight. The worst part of the flight was that the glare from the sun off the cloud gave me a slight headache. I decided to wear my sunglasses and I just laid back and was in that state of semi consciousness were one isn’t quite asleep or awake. My legs were twitching from exhaustion as well as the surge of adrenaline.

Upon landing in St. Louis, I walked through the airport with a spring in my step. I do remember passing by an airport bar and thinking about getting a celebratory drink and then I remembered the horrible truth that in the US, I was still underage. Oh well. It was merely a passing thought. I also was annoyed by a poster they had of an American beer in front of Big Ben in a show of how they are an international beer because deep down, not many people in the UK drink those beers on a regular basis. It’s about Bavarian beer or ales and not much else.

I did a lap through the baggage claim. Chris wasn’t there. Suddenly I had a horrifying thought that he had been in a car crash. That’s when I realized, while brilliant though our plan may be, there was a small problem that there was no way for each of us to communicate with each other if something tragic were to happen. Chris also mentioned that he himself had had a passing thought of “what if?” “What if the plane were to crash on takeoff or landing and was nothing more than a massive explosion for high def news?” He said that he wouldn’t have had a mental neurotic breakdown if that happened. Thankfully it didn’t. The second I turned around, there he was walking through the entryway.

I called his name and we got my bag. I then told him of my lie with the group rate portion of the trip. He stopped and said that sounded completely legitimate. At this point in the journey, I’m flying high on adrenaline. The finish line is in sight. I could see it with crystal clear vision. Dad called several times and my brother would look at me and go, “Shut up.” He and Dad argued a bit about the route he took and why it was better to go one way or another. I forgot how witty Chris can be. I had to bite my hand to keep from laughing. After the call Chris said he would tone it down a tidge. He did make the mistake of using “we” when meaning to refer only to himself in the car. Dad didn’t catch this.

Outside of the Iowa state line, we stopped at the Flying Jay for coffee and gas. It was funny because Chris asked if he should go for the house blend or the French roast. It’s gas station coffee. This isn’t like walking into a high brow coffee shop. It’s going to be black and disgusting so the only option is to make it as sweet as possible by dumping in more sugar than is needed.

One last phone call to Dad and then it was another half hour to Mount Pleasant. Once in town we stopped. Chris gave me one of those small cheap bows you put on gifts to put on and then he asked how I wanted to do this. I told him to drop me off at the corner about a block from the house. Upon doing so, I had completely forgotten how cold Iowa winters are when compared to the UK. The snow on the ground was the loose kind of snow which just would fly up your jeans upon each step. There’s a wood patch right next to the road which leads to our house. Upon the edge of the wood, I checked to see whether or not there was anybody outside the house for one reason or another. There wasn’t. I couldn’t see where the cars were parked but I decided to go the cautious route. I snuck down through our yard to the front porch. I crossed to the edge of the house. I looked to see if there was anybody at the side porch. There wasn’t. I then crouch walked and checked each window that I passed before making it to the entryway. As soon as I hit the top step, I noticed my Dad in the window cooking. I thought he had seen me. He hadn’t but that didn’t stop me from barreling through the door and into the house.

“HI!!” I shouted as soon as I entered the house. Chris was right there. Dad didn’t really notice. Mom was coming around the corner to tell us to shut the door. Once around the corner she stopped and saw who it was. She was shocked. There was a stunned silence for about 90 seconds with awkward laughter coming from Tom’s girlfriend Jen. Dad couldn’t really say anything either. Mom then feebly said, “You’re supposed to be… in France.” I started to quickly take off my coat. My bow had fallen off and nobody had really seen it. Oh well.

As soon as recognition wore off my parents gave me big hugs and my brother Tom was just like, “Why didn’t you tell me?” Chris and I thought that Tom might have blown the surprise by accident and the surprise was like, 90 percent of it. Chris and I looked at Tom and both said, “I think we won this year Tom.” There was no gift that he could give which would have been able to match ours at all. I think though that I might have raised the bar way too high to be able to ever match this one ever again.

We ate dinner and I told them about my flight and our little plan. Afterwards we unwrapped gifts. I didn’t get hardly anything at all. That’s the problem with coming home unannounced. Oh well. Mom told me that she doesn’t really remember unwrapping gifts. To be honest, neither do I. Though, I could hardly stay awake through it.

I slept pretty soundly that night. I hadn’t realized how much I had missed my bed. Maybe it was just the exhaustion, I don’t know but it was a pretty damn good sleep. I will say this, rapidly switching time zones twice in less than a week plus the flights and travel in general, is terrible for one’s sleeping pattern.

An Interesting Conversation

I know it has been a long time since I’ve blogged but I’ve been incredibly busy lately. Anyway, let’s go through this one by one, all the little events that have happened since my last post.

A few days before Christmas, I was up in Harborne to go shopping for some food from the Sainsbury’s Local. I decided to stop into the Oxfam bookshop just to kill some time. I did end up picking up a book whilst there but in the process I met a very interesting old man. He was about 70 or so. The conversation got started by all accounts on a very normal circumstance but was elevated by an odd little passion of mine. I overheard him discussing how he was going to go down to Heathrow in the next few days. He looked like he had done it before so, I decided to ask him for some advice as I was going to have to go down to Heathrow in the next few days. He told me where to go and what to do. He was very nice about it. He asked where I was headed and I told him my Christmas plans. I’ll talk about those later as that is going to take some back story.

He wished me luck but then out of the corner of my eye, I got a flash of something steel, red and blue. I took a closer look and I asked him if his wristwatch was the Rolex GMT with the Pepsi blue bezel. He told me that it was. I complemented him on it. The conversation then went from watches to travel horror stories. He talked about flying to Vegas. I told him that I had done the same and how I flew over the Grand Canyon. He told me about how he was in the RAF and had been stationed in Australia where they had done some nuclear testing. He said that he had personally seen about six nuclear bombs go off. He then told me about traveling across the Orient express as well as taking the Transsiberian down to China. His next trip was to go to India. This was a man who had been around the world. It was an interesting conversation to say the least.