Travel stories

Ta-da! I'm back on the blog again, and I only arrived yesterday! I feel like I should break out in a chorus of "yes, I love technology" a la Napoleon Dynamite (or maybe just, Thank You Joel for the laptop and its magical ethernet connection).

Okay, so that said... I'm sending this out from my new office, LCC#115, that I'll share with another instructor, Janneke VanHofwegen, who I haven't met yet. Most of the returning faculty don't arrive 'til the end of the week, and I was among some of the first new faculty to arrive yesterday. I'm really grateful to have today between the excruciatingly long travel day and tomorrow's orientation. This morning, I was able to unpack, laze around, and even finish knitting the scarf I've been working on! (Andrea & Kel, I'll have to send you a picture. It's lovely!)

To back up just a bit, I should probably chronicle the trip that began Sunday, as there were a couple frantic & harried moments. Things started off somewhat nerve-wrackingly at DIA when the ticket agent at the U.S. Airways counter mentioned that I'd need to go through customs in London. "Hmm," I thought, "I've never had to do that before if my bags are checked all the way through to my destination." So I asked her just that, and she seemed a bit put out that I was questioning her. My layover in London was quite short anyway - about an hour and a half - and I knew there was no way I could deplane, pick up luggage, go through customs and recheck it in that amount of time. I mentioned this to the agent, and she said, "well, I guess you probably don't need to recheck your luggage." At this point I was getting worried, what the heck was I exactly supposed to do in London? So I said, "I would appreciate a firm answer since I'm going away for a year and my entire life is in these two suitcases." This led to a 20-minute wait at the counter, line pileing up behind us, while the poor agent tried to call various airline offices to find out whether I did indeed need to go through customs in London. Guess what. I was right; you don't go through customs 'til getting to a final destination. I just shudder to think that I appear to be more familar with international travel procedures than the friggin' ticket agent at U.S. Airways.

The adventure continued when we touched down at my first layover in Philly, where I had an hour between flights. Now, normally that should be a decent amount of time, but in actuality, power-walking was required to get me from the domestic terminal to the interational departures area, which I arrived at just as they began calling out boarding instructions for the flight to London. Thanks for the $20 for food in the airport, Dad, but I didn't even have time to get dinner - I think I barely had time for a bathroom stop!

The actual transatlantic flight was fine, and I was able to sleep for about three hours before the pilot announced we were about to land. It was a beautiful morning over England, and we flew quite low over the countryside. He pointed out when we were over Brighton, a town on the southern coast (and which, thanks to Jane Austen, I can't think of without hearing Lydia Bennet's voice saying, "Oh how I long to go to Brighton!"). I think I actually saw some of those Austenian country manor houses hiding amongst all the hedgerows and fields.

If only the Gatwick airport were as lovely and pleasant as the land we flew over. Rather, it's like some sort of concrete labryinth designed by masochistic scientists recently fired from communist regimes. I asked one of the flight attendants before we landed where I needed to go to get a boarding pass for my Lithuanian airlines flight since my connection was, again, fairly tight. She said, "oh, no problem, you have plenty of time and there'll be a gate agent who can issue it for you. You should be able to go straight to your gate."

Given my previous encounter with the agent at DIA, it should come as no surprise that this was not exactly the case once we landed. Getting off the plane, all passengers are launched into this twisting, angular, maze-like passageway, at the end of which there is no gate attendant, or even anything resembling an information desk. The only option is to keep following the yellow signs to baggage claim and connection flights. So we walked, and walked, and walked, until we approached a sign for customs - which I knew I didn't want to go through. There was one lone girl in a yellow smock directing traffic and I asked her if she knew where the check-in desk for Lithuanian airlines might be. She directed me back along the hallway I'd just come from. Turns out, I needed to take bus to the North terminal and check in there. Fortunately, I found that bus, and it deposited me (after a circus-like route around buildings and over runways, with messages to "Nigel" and "Steve" bouncing back and forth on the bus radio) at a building with three check in lines, none of which listed Lithuanian airlines anywhere on their signs. Once again, there was no information desk, no U.S. airways folks, just one guy guarding the door to the security line who didn't appear to work for any airline. Feeling desperate, I asked him which desk I should be at, and he directed me toward one of the three. Approaching that desk, I noticed that there actually was an agent sitting there - she was slouching back in her chair, staring off into the ceiling, and when I told her what flight I needed to check in for, she said, "You'd better hurry, they're closing soon."

Resisting the urge to strangle her, I got my boarding pass and had to go through security again. Yes, this would be a time not to get stopped for screening, but obviously that would be expecting too much from the day! Once again the bloody Brits seemed to think that my teeny, tiny cuticle clippers pose a threat to national security and I was forced to surrender them. Damm those Brits - they got 'em from me last time too. You'd think I'd know better.

So, I made my flight to Lithuania by the skin of my teeth. Once at the gate, we had to take another bus over the runway and through the woods (okay, not the woods) to the plane, out onto the tarmac, and walk up those roll-away steps to the plane. There were about 10 of us left to board, so the others were already packed in waiting for us. A lady was sitting in my seat. I didn't think it worth the trouble of asking her to move, so I got to spend the whole flight conked out, with my head lolling around into the aisle, mouth gaping open for the whole plane to see. Oh well, at least I got some more sleep!

Given all these short connections and mishaps, I was pretty worried about my luggage actually making it to Lithuania with me. Fortunately, I thought I caught a glimpse of one of my suitcases on the top of a pile being driven out to the plane just ahead of our bus on the tarmac in London. That gave me a bit of hope that at least it, if not the other one, would make it. I am happy to say that, in the area of luggage at least, my expectations of the airline were proven false and my bags arrived when I did.

Landing in Vilnius there was a driver from the school awaiting me, plus another couple coming to work at LCC had arrived a couple hours prior to me. They found me and, after a five-minute restroom stop, we piled everything into a van and drove another three hours to Klaipeda. I wish I could remember more of that drive because the countryside is beautiful - lots of pine forests and farmland. At one point on the road I felt like I was driving I-35 in northern Minnesota - a wide road lined with tall pines. Apparently it rained in spurts throughout our trip, but I was pretty wiped out again, and spent most of the trip sleeping.

Once we arrived in Klaipeda, the driver took us directly to my new place where we waited for my "buddy" to bring the keys. LCC pairs up the new faculty members with buddies, who are there to help us get oriented and to answer questions. While waiting, we were able to take a look at the staff directory and determine that I don't have a direct roommate, but I do have two other LCC couples living next door to me in my building. My "buddy" Lisa arrived with the keys and she and another faculty member, Simona, helped me bring things upstairs. I'm on the fourth floor of a fifth floor building. The old communist design plan was that buildings over five floors could have an elevator, while those under five would not. Yay for me, my own stairmaster program!

Lisa was so kind and helped me make a trip to the grocery store, which is a short walk away, and after I took a shower, she took me out to the downtown area for pizza.

Stay tuned for more on the first days in Klaipeda!...