Sunday, September 12, 2004
Eric goes to Scotland
I'm finally here in Aberdeen, Scotland! And by finally, I mean so finally it's not even funny. The day and night in London we (Sarah and I) had planned only prolonged the misery of transit, but now I'm unpacked and settled in my new room, new apartment, new city, new country for at least the next ten months ("at least," because for some reason my visa doesn't expire until October 31st, 2005. Score!).
How can I explain what it was like being sleep-deprived and feeling shitty for three days straight? I probably don’t need to. Y'all have been on airplanes before. It's not that the flight was so long, but here's the thing: I would rather stay up all night than get up early in the morning. Also, my dad is always concocting brilliant theories on how you should alter your sleeping patterns in order to avoid jet lag entirely when traveling through time zones of any sort, including stuff like driving one state over. So I've been trained in this art as well.
So I figure, if the UK is eight hours ahead, and my big flight leaves in the early evening and arrives in London in the late morning, I should stay up all night so I'm tired enough to sleep through the entire 10-hour flight (I can't sleep a wink on an airplane, no matter what, almost). Then I'll wake up from a good night's sleep around mid-morning London time, allowing me to function normally during the day and go to sleep at a normal hour that night, negating the horrors of jet lag.
This is all just beautiful in theory, but what it really ensured was 48 hours of hallucination and drooping eyelids as I flew from Seattle to Vancouver, Vancouver to London, spent a miserable night in London, and flew from London to Edinburgh. One remarkable thing about the flight to London was the in-flight movie –- The Day After Tomorrow. Can they do that? I would never have guessed that a film detailing the eradication of a good portion of civilization would be the best thing to take people's minds off the fact that they are suspended miles above the surface of the planet in a machine weighing many, many tons.
Why did hanging out in London suck such large portions of ass? To cut down on the whining, let's just say no sleep, a year's worth of luggage, an apparent lack of belief in escalators leading to and from the subway, a shit hostel, and insufficient time to do anything but lug everything to the airport the next day. If Marianne hadn't met us at the airport in Edinburgh, which I realized I had never actually asked her to do, I'm sure one of us would have started stripping and crying.
Although Sarah will actually being going to school in Edinburgh, she tagged along with us on the train to Aberdeen to stay with us for a few days. I laid eyes for the first time on our beautiful flat. I met Rosie, Marianne’s friend and our roommate. I watched Shaun of the Dead with small spots swimming through my vision. I don’t remember much after that, but I know the story ends with me falling into bed and sleeping for 11 hours.
That was two days ago, and this story will be continued.
How can I explain what it was like being sleep-deprived and feeling shitty for three days straight? I probably don’t need to. Y'all have been on airplanes before. It's not that the flight was so long, but here's the thing: I would rather stay up all night than get up early in the morning. Also, my dad is always concocting brilliant theories on how you should alter your sleeping patterns in order to avoid jet lag entirely when traveling through time zones of any sort, including stuff like driving one state over. So I've been trained in this art as well.
So I figure, if the UK is eight hours ahead, and my big flight leaves in the early evening and arrives in London in the late morning, I should stay up all night so I'm tired enough to sleep through the entire 10-hour flight (I can't sleep a wink on an airplane, no matter what, almost). Then I'll wake up from a good night's sleep around mid-morning London time, allowing me to function normally during the day and go to sleep at a normal hour that night, negating the horrors of jet lag.
This is all just beautiful in theory, but what it really ensured was 48 hours of hallucination and drooping eyelids as I flew from Seattle to Vancouver, Vancouver to London, spent a miserable night in London, and flew from London to Edinburgh. One remarkable thing about the flight to London was the in-flight movie –- The Day After Tomorrow. Can they do that? I would never have guessed that a film detailing the eradication of a good portion of civilization would be the best thing to take people's minds off the fact that they are suspended miles above the surface of the planet in a machine weighing many, many tons.
Why did hanging out in London suck such large portions of ass? To cut down on the whining, let's just say no sleep, a year's worth of luggage, an apparent lack of belief in escalators leading to and from the subway, a shit hostel, and insufficient time to do anything but lug everything to the airport the next day. If Marianne hadn't met us at the airport in Edinburgh, which I realized I had never actually asked her to do, I'm sure one of us would have started stripping and crying.
Although Sarah will actually being going to school in Edinburgh, she tagged along with us on the train to Aberdeen to stay with us for a few days. I laid eyes for the first time on our beautiful flat. I met Rosie, Marianne’s friend and our roommate. I watched Shaun of the Dead with small spots swimming through my vision. I don’t remember much after that, but I know the story ends with me falling into bed and sleeping for 11 hours.
That was two days ago, and this story will be continued.
