The trip up to Chicago was uneventful. I only knew a couple other people in the class from our group presentations, so the bus ride was admittedly a little awkward. At the O'Hare airport, some guy tried to cut our group in the check-in line. I'm not sure what nationality he was, but he looked African and had an accent. He insisted to the ticketing/check-in baggage guy that we had cut him and that he had been there long before us, but the check-in guy wasn't that dumb. He knew we had been waiting there a long time. The cutter started raising his voice and--I was afraid this was coming--he said, "You're treating me like this because I'm black!" This guy was ridiculous! The ticketing guy replied, "Have a nice day, sir," and then under his breath muttered, "Go to hell." It was quite the exchange. The cutter finally settled down and got behind us in line. It's funny because the ticketing guy isn't someone you want to piss off, considering he could probably do anything he wants with your flight assignment. Not even in Europe yet and the excitement already started.
After the professors started checking us in, I was called over regarding my passport. I have a Taiwanese passport, so I had to get a Schengen visa to travel in France and Italy. However, we would be transiting in England on our way to France, and Britain isn't a part of the Schengen states. The attendant asked me, "Do you have a British visa?" I replied that I didn't need one since we'd be in England for less than 24 hours. He said that since I was leaving the airport and actually setting foot on British soil to take a bus between airports, I did in fact need a visa. He said there wasn't anything I could do about it at that point. Oh sh*t!!! A few minutes later, he said, "Oh sorry, I'm looking at another page now, and it looks like you're okay." It was a pretty harrowing few minutes, but at least now I'll be able to appreciate going on this trip so much more.
When we finally boarded our plane, our passports were checked by some attendants, as usual. I handed my passport to an attendant who said, "Hello, sir" with an English accent, and it sounded like he had a gay lisp as well (not that I have anything against people with different orientations). I had just never heard such an accent before. As he checked my passport picture, he said, "Oh, very nice... Very handsome." I said, "Thanks." I mean, what else could I say?
The plane ride was a little quicker than expected, but I mean, it was trans-Atlantic, so it wasn't exactly the shortest ride either. I got to watch Pan's Labyrinth and ate one of the best airplane meals I've ever had. It consisted of roast beef, mashed potatoes, a salad, roll, and an amazing fudge brownie. Totally unexpected. I wonder if I can have airplane food delivered to my door. I slept through most of the plane ride and woke up to breakfast being served. I love it when that happens. It was a 6+ hour flight, and I somehow managed to not have to pee despite drinking quite a bit. That was a personal victory for me.
England wasn't too exciting. We landed in Heathrow and took a bus to Gatwick. We didn't get to see much of the country at all since we just followed a highway the whole time. The local roads were a little loopy, though, and riding on the wrong side of the road was a first for me. When we arrived at the Gatwick airport, our driver got off the bus and asked me, "Do you need a trolley?" I was confused for a moment. Weren't we just on a bus? And didn't we just arrive at our destination? No thanks, I don't need a trolley. Turns out a trolley is a cart, as in, "In the interest of safety, children are not permitted to ride in the baggage trolleys," as heard over the intercom. Those English are no fun.
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