And so it begins. I get a call early in the morning from Amy Sullivan, an employee of SFS (not sure what she does exactly), who has informed me that the group flight to London from Nairobi has been cancelled due to weather. I check my info online and tell her that I am scheduled to leave on time. She them tells me something that the novice traveler would likely pee themselves at the thought of. Traveling to Tanzania alone. That’s right ladies and gentlemen. I will be traveling to a third world country without a single acquaintance. Scared? Nah, come one, the core of man’s spirit comes from new adventures; this is going to be an exciting one. I headed for the airport around 2pm on a typical overcast day in Washington, DC. Awake half because of adrenaline, half because of caffine, falling asleep was not in my sights in the near future. We arrive at the airport and check-in bags. Of course, the money hoarding airline companies try to trick me to paying for my luggage. Good thing I’ve done my homework. I tell the man that online, you can fly two bags for free to Africa. He calls his manager and he says I am correct. (Congratulations Elliot, you are officially better versed in oversea baggage charges than the man who works the counter (if my Dad is reading this I will let him know that my arm is in a cast for patting myself on the back)) Getting through security was nothing short of painful. I had to watch a security guard destroy my previous nights work (he tore through my entire carry-on, and I may add that it is not easy to fit everything into it). Annoyed, but relieved, I made my way to the terminal. My backpack evolved from normal hiking back to carrying a boulder on my back very quickly.
By 3:30, I am ready and waiting at my gate for a flight that is going to board in two hours. I picked up my phone and decided to start calling everyone I felt needed to hear my voice before I made my way across the Atlantic. I spoke with my self declared sister Sarah, my grandparents, parents and a good friend from home, Matt. To my delight, everyone is in good spirits and living their lives to their full potential. Before I know it, it’s time to board the plane, however there was barely anyone at the terminal. Yes my fellow friends, my flight to London was deserted. I had an entire row to myself where I could sleep…or so I thought. I am living on adrenaline. I did not sleep on the plane ride once. By the time my eyelids begin to give signs of exhaustion it was to late. We had crossed the Atlantic and were minutes away from Heathrow. Looks like I won’t be falling asleep until my flight to Nairobi.
I arrive in London. It is overcast (what a surprise) and the temperature in average. About 45 degrees F. Drowsiness is really starting to set in. The customs line seems endless, but eventually I make my way to the front and get through. My next challenge is getting myself from Heathrow to Paddington. I decided that it is more economical to take the Underground. After a long winding road to the entrance, I catch my train and am on my way to see London. I get my first glimpse of London from the ground and it looks pretty much the way I imagined. Old, red brick houses, soccer (or should I say football) fields, morning traffic and lot’s and lot’s and lot’s of British accents. I stick out like a soar thumb. I am wearing old blue jeans, running shoes and a black windbreaker. Everyone else essentially looks like they came out of a Brooks Brothers store. Finally, I make it to Paddington. Exhausted, but a bit relieved, I am excited to be here, and look forward for the day to come.
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