On Saturday morning I walked out to Waterloo Bridge to say one final goodbye to this city that I've been lucky enough to live in for the past fifteen weeks. Snow was pouring from the sky, making a picture-perfect setting on the Thames. Looking back, it was a dumb decision not to bring my camera. Then I went back to the apartment, took my suitcases, and hopped a tube train to the airport. After almost four months of exploring, I was heading home. Or so I thought.
The tube whisked me under central London and emerged from the tunnel, cruising past the suburban landscape of London's outer boroughs. Three stops from the airport, the train stopped at Hounslow Central. It did not move again. There was a signal failure. All passengers had to exit the train and catch a bus a few blocks down. I grabbed my bags and left the train, but forgot my umbrella.
The 111 bus doesn't stop too far from Hounslow Central tube stop, but it seemed like miles away when the sidewalks weren't shoveled and there's snow and ice everywhere. Eventually, with two bags in tow, I arrived at the bus stop, where a bus with a destination sign reading "Heathrow Airport Central" promptly pulled up. Unfortunately, the bus was extremely crowded and I had to carry my bags to the upper deck, but since this would be my last ride on a London double decker, I didn't mind. The bus slowly wound its way through the snow-covered streets of the London suburbs, passing cars that had spun out on the slippery streets and miserable-looking Londoners trudging through the wintry weather.
Just a few stops short of the airport, an automated message told everyone to exit the bus. It was still snowing. I didn't know where I was, but I figured another bus would come along shortly. It didn't. I started walking in the same direction the bus had been traveling. I had left my apartment four hours before the flight was scheduled to leave in case something went wrong, but I was starting to get nervous. I left enough of a buffer for one thing to go wrong, not two or three.
After a very long time of running through the London sidewalks in the snow, I reached the barbed wire fence that bordered the outer edges of the airport. I didn't hear any jet engines running, so I thought flights must have been delayed for the snow. Still, with my luck, I was nervous that mine would be the one flight that left on time and it would leave without me.
The right bus finally arrived. It was extremely crowded. My drenched shoes made a puddle on the floor. The bus stopped at the airport just twenty minutes before my flight was scheduled to leave. I pulled out my passport and boarding pass, grabbed my bags, and ran for the check-in counter, dropping my passport in the process. When I arrived at the terminal, there was a massive crowd of tired-looking travelers sitting on baggage. Some were near tears. It was at this moment when I realized I lost my passport. I began to panic.
I tried to retrace my steps and find the passport, but the mob of passengers was so thick I could not get through to where I had just walked and I could not see the floor. I pulled out my credit card and paid an insane $23 for WiFi use at the airport. I thought I would never see that passport again, so I looked up information on the US Embassy to find out how to get another one. The US Embassy opened on Monday at 8:00 AM. It was 5:30 PM on Saturday. I called my parents and told them I didn't have a passport.
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| Unfortunately, I was too frazzled to take a camera out in the airport and capture the sight of thousands of stranded passengers bunking down on the floor for the night, so here's a picture someone else took of the scene. |
I sat on my suitcase, where a stranded Canadian girl asked me how I got the WiFi. I told her the price was too high, but I was desperate. She told me her flight was canceled, saying 'about' ['aboot'] and 'out' ['oot'] with a Canadian accent. I bit my lip to stop myself from smiling. Then I waited in a line at the information booth, where a good person, for whom I am very thankful, had picked up my passport and brought it there for safe keeping. Passport in hand, I was ready to check in and go home. The flight had not left yet due to the snow, so it was possible I could still make it home.
Almost immediately after I arrived at the check-in area, it was announced that my flight was canceled. The airport was closed because of the snow storm. NYU study abroad students were all around me now, many of them very distraught. I was happy to have my passport and hung around the airport. All trains out of the airport were stopped as well, so no one could return to central London. The hotels at the airport were full. The airport was full, so full that the police were making people wait outside in the snow and ice because allowing any more passengers in would be a fire hazard. Those lucky enough to be inside the terminal curled up and went to sleep for the night. The NYU students and I sat on our luggage and waited, lost and unsure of what to do.
Eventually the tube re-opened. Unsure where else to turn, we hopped a train back to the apartment and asked to be allowed back into the dorms.
Emotions ran high back at the apartment, where everyone was frantically trying to rebook a flight. Everyone, myself included, have been booked on several flights these last few days and have spent several hours on hold on the phone with airlines trying to rebook flights. It has been nearly impossible to leave this country for days, and today is the first day things seem to be clearing up, even though there are a number of delays at all airports. There are few empty seats on the planes that do fly out. My current plan calls for catching a flight tomorrow (Thursday, five days after my scheduled departure) to Orlando and then dashing to catch a connection into Hartford. It will be a hectic day.
There's an article about all of this here.
Despite all this chaos, I have had high spirits through this whole experience. While my friends have been panicking, crying, and frantically calling parents, I have been enjoying a few extra days in London in between the long phone calls on hold with Virgin Atlantic. I know I am lucky to have a place to stay, since many have been sleeping on the floor of Heathrow since Saturday night. I am lucky to have been studying in London, since many travelers got trapped in Heathrow trying to make a connection for days with no luggage and no place to sleep, as all hotels are full.
Since the flight was canceled, I have been taking advantage of my extra days in London. I've had a great time this entire semester, so I don't see why things should be much different now. No one else seems to share my good attitude, however. I am surrounded by angry students who just want to get home. While I understand their frustration, I won't let their negativity ruin my good time.
When I left for London, I wanted an adventure. I never expected an adventure like this.
