Okay, so that title really isn't true, but it was too perfect not to use. And we did stay in some pretty . . . um . . . interesting hostels in Scotland and Ireland. Regardless of the hostels themselves, sleeping in a room with random strangers is just kind of weird, and maybe just very slightly scary. A few nights the five of us had a room to ourselves, which was really nice. And usually the hostels themselves weren't too bad. One had dogs, the owner's pets, which of course made me very happy. A few had kitchens we could use. At some we got free breakfast.
However, there were also flat pillows, dirty walls and floors, and towels costing at least one pound. The craziest thing that happened at a hostel was when the police came to our room in the middle of the night. We always had all five of us, guys and girls, in the same room, because it was just easier, and seemed safer, to have all of us together. But one night there were no rooms with five free beds, so we had to split up. Us three girls were in a women-only room, which felt safe. But sometime after midnight two drunk French women came into the room, being noisy. I didn't actually wake up then, but I did when a loud Irish policeman came in.
Apparently the French ladies had taken a taxi, and the driver had accused them of not paying. The policeman wanted the money, but one of the women insisted she'd already paid, and both said they had no more money. The policeman argued with them, saying at one point, "You're bothering all these other people!" Finally he took one of the women away. Another lady staying in the room tried to help the other one; she ended up throwing up in the toilet before climbing into her bed, which was unfortunately right next to mine. A little while lady the other lady came back, crying.
During all this I'd been laying there with my eyes closed, just wanting to sleep since we had to get up at 5 the next morning to make it to the airport for our flight to Scotland. In the morning none of us actually got up on time, and Dan had to come knock on our door. All of this just goes to prove that sleeping in the same room as random strangers is never the greatest idea.
Showing posts with label sleep. Show all posts
Showing posts with label sleep. Show all posts
Sunday, June 14, 2009
Thursday, January 29, 2009
London alone
Monday, January 19
We were going to meet at 8:15 to head to the London Institute for Contemporary Christianity (LICC), where plenary is, with the TAs guiding. So I wake up to my alarm at 7:30 and turn it off—and promptly fall back asleep. I awake later to a knock on my door and scramble out of bed to see who it is. Laura, one of the TAs, is there, wearing her coat and hat. “What time is it?” I ask. “8:15,” she tells me.
At this point I remember the dream I was having when she woke me up. I wasn’t ready to go at 8:15, and it was 8:30 and everyone was standing outside waiting for me. The first part had come true—but the second part didn’t. Laura tells me that she and everyone else are going to leave now, and she shows me on a map how to get to the LICC. We’re supposed to be there by 9, but the lecture doesn’t start until 9:15. I have a chance.
I get ready as quickly as I can and then run down to the dining room to grab one of the awesome breakfast rolls. There are none in the basket, though, and when I ask someone she says they’re all gone. I leave at 8:30, hungry.
I stride down the street in what I think is the direction of the tube station, but I haven’t done the walk often enough yet and I accidentally take a long cut. I make it there okay, though, and I find the correct platform and wait for the train amidst a crowd of strangers. The train soon pulls in, packed full. As many people as possible squeeze on, but there’s no room for me.
So I wait for the next train, and when it comes the same thing happens. When this one leaves, though, I’m right in front of the tracks, ready to push my way into the third train. When it comes I do just that, jammed in with a bunch of strangers. And then there’s an announcement—there are delays on the line. So the train sits at the station. And keeps sitting. Wearing my coat, hat, and scarf and standing so close to so many other people, I get unbearably hot.
At last we leave only to stop again. After what feels like a terribly long time, I’m ready to scream and shove the surrounding people away. Instead I rest my head on my upraised holding-on arm and close my eyes.
Eventually the train does get to my station. I get out into the wonderful air, check my map, and head off—only to soon realize I’m going in the wrong direction. So I turn and go back. By now it’s past 9:15, and I slow down, my hope of getting there on time gone.
Some familiar sights come into view—a big building with blue shutters on the windows, the park where we ate lunch on Saturday. I know I’m close, but I don’t remember how exactly to get to the LICC from here. My mind was still foggy when Laura gave me the directions.
And then I see her—Laura, coming towards me out of the crowd. All I can do is grin with relief as she puts an arm around me and guides me the rest of the way to the LICC—which is actually straight down the street, no turns or anything.
At 9:30 we get to the front doors—and they won’t open. I pull and push them both, but they’re locked. Then Dr. Wardwell comes down the hallway and lets us in. When I step into the classroom, the other students, seated at two rows of tables, break into applause. My embarrassment is swallowed by utter relief and a feeling of triumph as I greet my friends and tell them the story.
I get a few surprises—one, they haven’t started without me (which is incredibly nice and unexpected of them) and two, I’m not the only one who didn’t leave with the group. Adam and Dan aren’t here. The professors decide to start, and just as Dr. Stewart is finishing the course introduction, the guys arrive. Everyone has made it to plenary safely and soundly—if not punctually.
We were going to meet at 8:15 to head to the London Institute for Contemporary Christianity (LICC), where plenary is, with the TAs guiding. So I wake up to my alarm at 7:30 and turn it off—and promptly fall back asleep. I awake later to a knock on my door and scramble out of bed to see who it is. Laura, one of the TAs, is there, wearing her coat and hat. “What time is it?” I ask. “8:15,” she tells me.
At this point I remember the dream I was having when she woke me up. I wasn’t ready to go at 8:15, and it was 8:30 and everyone was standing outside waiting for me. The first part had come true—but the second part didn’t. Laura tells me that she and everyone else are going to leave now, and she shows me on a map how to get to the LICC. We’re supposed to be there by 9, but the lecture doesn’t start until 9:15. I have a chance.
I get ready as quickly as I can and then run down to the dining room to grab one of the awesome breakfast rolls. There are none in the basket, though, and when I ask someone she says they’re all gone. I leave at 8:30, hungry.
I stride down the street in what I think is the direction of the tube station, but I haven’t done the walk often enough yet and I accidentally take a long cut. I make it there okay, though, and I find the correct platform and wait for the train amidst a crowd of strangers. The train soon pulls in, packed full. As many people as possible squeeze on, but there’s no room for me.
So I wait for the next train, and when it comes the same thing happens. When this one leaves, though, I’m right in front of the tracks, ready to push my way into the third train. When it comes I do just that, jammed in with a bunch of strangers. And then there’s an announcement—there are delays on the line. So the train sits at the station. And keeps sitting. Wearing my coat, hat, and scarf and standing so close to so many other people, I get unbearably hot.
At last we leave only to stop again. After what feels like a terribly long time, I’m ready to scream and shove the surrounding people away. Instead I rest my head on my upraised holding-on arm and close my eyes.
Eventually the train does get to my station. I get out into the wonderful air, check my map, and head off—only to soon realize I’m going in the wrong direction. So I turn and go back. By now it’s past 9:15, and I slow down, my hope of getting there on time gone.
Some familiar sights come into view—a big building with blue shutters on the windows, the park where we ate lunch on Saturday. I know I’m close, but I don’t remember how exactly to get to the LICC from here. My mind was still foggy when Laura gave me the directions.
And then I see her—Laura, coming towards me out of the crowd. All I can do is grin with relief as she puts an arm around me and guides me the rest of the way to the LICC—which is actually straight down the street, no turns or anything.
At 9:30 we get to the front doors—and they won’t open. I pull and push them both, but they’re locked. Then Dr. Wardwell comes down the hallway and lets us in. When I step into the classroom, the other students, seated at two rows of tables, break into applause. My embarrassment is swallowed by utter relief and a feeling of triumph as I greet my friends and tell them the story.
I get a few surprises—one, they haven’t started without me (which is incredibly nice and unexpected of them) and two, I’m not the only one who didn’t leave with the group. Adam and Dan aren’t here. The professors decide to start, and just as Dr. Stewart is finishing the course introduction, the guys arrive. Everyone has made it to plenary safely and soundly—if not punctually.
Saturday, January 17, 2009
The first day
(Journal paraphrase from last night)
I’m in my cozy (meaning very small) room at the Highbury Centre (http://www.thehighburycenter.org/ ). It's like a maze in here—twisting corridors, several flights of steps spread throughout—and it’s huge. I haven’t gotten lost yet, although I haven’t fully explored yet either.
Back to the plane ride—we had to circle over the airport several times because of a delay. We descended very slowly. Once on the ground, we had to wait for an available gate. Finally off the plane, we waited in line at customs. After getting through we met the two professors and then waited for no-one-knew-what. It seemed we were destined to be continually waiting. At last, though, we boarded the bus and were off through London.
It was so cool—the old buildings, the green grass, the double-decker red buses, the telephone booths, the British phrases on signs. The drive did last a while, though, so it was nice to finally make it to the Highbury Centre.
I unpacked somewhat, then we all met for a trip to the ATM and to get some lunch. We walked, and although it was warm compared to PA and Houghton right now, it was windy and felt pretty cold. I got some money and a sausage roll, pastry crust with sausage inside. I was really hungry, and it was really good. After a little wandering into stores, we walked back to the HC through a light English drizzle.
Wireless doesn’t work in my room, so I ended up in the lounge, trying to make it work there on my laptop. That took a while, but finally it did. Those of us who were there played Spoons to keep ourselves awake, and it helped.
For dinner we had some sort of soup, shepherd’s pie, and an apple pie-custard dessert. It was good.
My head's been feeling weird all day, and now I feel like I'm wilting. Time for bed.
I’m in my cozy (meaning very small) room at the Highbury Centre (http://www.thehighburycenter.org/ ). It's like a maze in here—twisting corridors, several flights of steps spread throughout—and it’s huge. I haven’t gotten lost yet, although I haven’t fully explored yet either.
Back to the plane ride—we had to circle over the airport several times because of a delay. We descended very slowly. Once on the ground, we had to wait for an available gate. Finally off the plane, we waited in line at customs. After getting through we met the two professors and then waited for no-one-knew-what. It seemed we were destined to be continually waiting. At last, though, we boarded the bus and were off through London.
It was so cool—the old buildings, the green grass, the double-decker red buses, the telephone booths, the British phrases on signs. The drive did last a while, though, so it was nice to finally make it to the Highbury Centre.
I unpacked somewhat, then we all met for a trip to the ATM and to get some lunch. We walked, and although it was warm compared to PA and Houghton right now, it was windy and felt pretty cold. I got some money and a sausage roll, pastry crust with sausage inside. I was really hungry, and it was really good. After a little wandering into stores, we walked back to the HC through a light English drizzle.
Wireless doesn’t work in my room, so I ended up in the lounge, trying to make it work there on my laptop. That took a while, but finally it did. Those of us who were there played Spoons to keep ourselves awake, and it helped.
For dinner we had some sort of soup, shepherd’s pie, and an apple pie-custard dessert. It was good.
My head's been feeling weird all day, and now I feel like I'm wilting. Time for bed.
On the plane
Note: Most of these posts will be paraphrases from my journal, like this one, written on the plane.
My journey to London has begun. The plane took off about an hour and a half ago, and here we are, flying, probably over the Atlantic now. It’s been a strange day—frantic, last-minute packing, saying goodbye to everyone, leaving in a hurry, then a sudden slow-down when the three-hour drive started. We arrived at Newark early, around 5:45. I was feeling dazed by that time, so after lugging one of my suitcases through part of the airport, I was very relieved to see the familiar faces of some of the Londoners. After check-in, I said goodbye to Mom, which was sad, and went through security. We sat around there for a few hours, talking and eating, before boarding the plane. I tried to sleep after eating and watching a movie, but it was just too uncomfortable. Finally I dropped off, only to be awoken by the announcement that the plane was beginning its descent and we would be landing in about an hour. After that I gave up.
My journey to London has begun. The plane took off about an hour and a half ago, and here we are, flying, probably over the Atlantic now. It’s been a strange day—frantic, last-minute packing, saying goodbye to everyone, leaving in a hurry, then a sudden slow-down when the three-hour drive started. We arrived at Newark early, around 5:45. I was feeling dazed by that time, so after lugging one of my suitcases through part of the airport, I was very relieved to see the familiar faces of some of the Londoners. After check-in, I said goodbye to Mom, which was sad, and went through security. We sat around there for a few hours, talking and eating, before boarding the plane. I tried to sleep after eating and watching a movie, but it was just too uncomfortable. Finally I dropped off, only to be awoken by the announcement that the plane was beginning its descent and we would be landing in about an hour. After that I gave up.
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