FINALLY! The blogging of EuroLosKilliamTrip 2005 PART ONE

November 2005. Carlos and Richard embark on a relatively aimless
JAUNT THROUGH NORTHERN EUROPE

November 2nd, 2005. Election Day. I stay up all night « packing » and pointlessly attempting to ensure that I am tired enough to sleep on the flight. I hardly ever manage to sleep on flights, especially international ones. Carlos just as pointlessly attempts to recover from a poorly timed cold before leaving.
We meet inside Union Station at UNO’s Pizzeria, struggling with the wait staff for seating and with my father to let go of my luggage and my childhood. Kathleen and Carlos exchange turgid, emotional goodbyes.
On the train to Newark Airport, I make it to Maryland before unconsciously leaning against the lady next to me with my head hanging and bobbing around.
With extra time--what a luxury!--we have an appropriate last meal in the U.S.A. at a (duty-free?) A&W. I order a root beer float and we share a basket of cheese fries. Pretty great meal, actually.
I nod off literally by mid-takeoff, which is exceptional but I only sleep a couple of hours. It has been so long since I have taken an international flight that the display screen implanted in the back of the seat in front of me amuses me much of the time. Since the most interesting in-flight movie is The Island, I try all the ‘video games’ offered. Eventually I settle on chess because the computer beats me so easily. On the fourth try I finally defeat the plane’s artificial intelligence on easy mode. Carlos sits two rows in front, and appears to sleep the entire time. Later, he denies this.

November 3rd, 2005.
6:40AM We fly over England to the wondrous sight of pre-dawn lit cityscapes beneath us. Now the lack
of sleep barely registers due to rising anticipation. As the sun rises and the plane descends I am struck by the lush green of the landscape.

7:15AM Customs catches me off-guard with its scrutiny of my personal belongings and even my motivations for coming to London.
« What is the purpose of your trip? »
« Uh- fun. I mean, recreation… »
« I see. Where will this ‘fun’ be had? Where are you staying? »
Even the stern nature of these questions cannot keep me from thinking that this agent might be unfriendly because he is my age and balding. He asks me about my guitar and if I will be performing with it. It seems clear at this point that the goal is humiliation and not any form of information gathering. The charade continues as he inspects my electronic ticket printout to make sure I have a return flight. On the backside he finds my scrawl of hastily written notes and ideas while on the plane.
« It’s just personal, » I offer feebly.
He reads it anyway, and not a quick scan but really taking it in long enough for me to wonder if this was really happening and what exactly was wrong with this man. I also wonder what he thinks of my work, but before I could ask he starts asking me more questions about my life and where it’s headed.
« And what will you do when you get back? »
« Huh? »
« When you return--job? Anything? »
« Oh. Back to my parents’ house to continue working boring jobs I guess? »

8:00 AM On the train into London I sit next to a dirty old American man traveling alone and flirting with the young South African women next to him. He amazes me with the easy time he has transparently flirting with jokes about his remarriages and the ‘perfume’ of women--with strangers he just struck up a conversation with. In retrospect , this was a pretty pathetic display but serves as an introduction to London in that everyone involved speaks English but is not actually English.

8:30 AM We have a terrible time lugging bags and my acoustic guitar through the packed rush hour Underground. For the price of the metro tickets you would think valets would take luggage for you. Already I feel like the exchange rate has slashed a gaping wound through my wallet and the flesh surrounding it. I wonder how I will make it through this trip alive with so little money.

9:00 AM We arrive at the hotel, drenched in sweat from the unexpectedly hot sun and stress. I already have blisters on my hands from poor luggage handles and an even poorer choice in guitar cases.

10:00 AM There is no way I can sleep in spite of the intense physical need, I declare. We’re in London! I enthusiastically inspect what I now know was a tea kettle, and only jokingly consider using it, which Carlos vetoes. Carlos then lays down on the bed and passes out in full daylight. I sit around for a few minutes before doing the same.

An exciting wrap to a stellar opener!! Stay tuned for part two in a matter of..days!