It's been almost exactly two weeks since I landed at San Francisco International airport and I feel an update is long overdue! The main excuse for not getting this up sooner is that I've only just received my laptop and the thought alone of writing all of this up on my mobile (or mobul/cell) phone was enough to dissuade me from doing so. (Despite ordering the laptop over two weeks ago, it was held up by my credit card getting blocked, but more about that later.)
My departure from London was uneventful, albeit a little hurried - but when is it not? Luckily I'd had several months to prepare for my departure but there were still many things that I struggled or failed to finish in time. As Monday evening drew close, I'd had several days without much sleep (and with plentiful alcohol consumption) so my pace of 'getting things done' was slower than normal. One of the tasks I failed to complete was building the USS Enterprise, possibly one of the most thoughtful gifts I've been given in my life, so I feel especially guilty. That's a goal to complete as soon as I land back in England next year.
Packing all of my possessions down was surprisingly manageable. As I've previously mentioned, the last few months have been an endless process of selling or otherwise disposing of extraneous possessions. Packing was aided by the fact the conniving woman at the music shop in Ilford sold me a dhol case that was clearly too big (despite her assurances to the otherwise). This worked to my advantage - I was able to pack all 27 of my colourful t-shirts and socks around the perimeter of the my dhol and still had space for all my trousers and underwear! There was a small amount of rebalancing required when packing all the textbooks in one bag resulted in it weighing near to 30 kilograms. I took one of these in my hand luggage (which later resulted in a Heathrow security worker exclaiming their surprise at the thickness of the book I was carrying onto the flight) and moved the rest to another bag.
In total I had 5 items of checked luggage, including 2 bicycles (my fixie and the Ti bike), my dhol and two bags which were primarily full of alcohol, food and clothes. These weren't such a problem at Heathrow since I had my dear cousin to help me wheel the trolleys to the checkin desk and the Virgin Atlantic staff were very helpful (even more so when an Indian check-in worker recognised it as a dhol).
The flight itself was uneventful. I had somehow managed to get the last possible seat on the plane - 66G. I don't know how this happened. It seemed like a curse to start with, but wasn't actually so bad since I was sitting near an open space near the rearmost emergency exit which let me get up and stretch frequently without a problem. The only caveat was that it was major waiting area for fellow passengers queueing for the toilets and, when trying to nap, they'd periodically open the blinds to look out and not shut them. Inconsiderate fellow humans.
My neighbour for the flight was a young girl (perhaps around 10 years old) who was travelling with her mother and her younger still sister. She was a relatively pleasant neighbour although, despite her miniature stature, she did have a surprising tendancy to stick her elbows out on the arm rests. Give her short height, this put her elbows at roughly the level of my ribs which tickled initially and then hurt later. Trying to play the mature adult, I didn't let this bother me and this patience paid off when she let me have her uneaten sandwich at tea time (I'm in student-poverty now, so it's acceptable to take food from children).
On the approach into San Francisco I had a lovely conversation with a tall Virgin Atlantic air hostess who was dressed in a rather fetching red suit and strapped into the jump seat filling the space adjacent to the emergency exit. It seems that, like anything, their trips abroad become less exotic the more times they travel, and their primary ambition for their free time in other countries now is to find a cheap wine bar to spend a day in.
The real adventure started when reclaiming all of my luggage. Luckily they have porters at the airport who helped me take my luggage onto the airport 'AirTrain'. (This included a luggage screening where the sceptical customs agent queried the sheer amount of luggage I have. Another customs agent was very excited by the fact I was starting at Cal and another, Indian, agent showed muted respect for the fact I was carrying a dhol.) Sadly, the porter was unable to come further and I had to push my two carts (or trolleys) along in this amusing shuffle. This would have worked a lot better if my fixie, in a soft bike bag, was able to stack nicely, and if my dhol case didn't keep slipping off the same trolley. There was a moment of panic when the fixie fell off as I was getting off the train and I had to block the doors briefly while I tried to move everything off the train. After a brief wait, I had to do the same again when picking up my rental car in parking space 199 in a huge parking garage. A suited American man with a look of mild irritation made the wrong decision and decided to share the lift with me. As I faffed about trying to get my trolleys into a now full lift, he asked me if I could have more 'stuff'. I told him that I didn't, really. Having abandoned a trolley in my attempt to fit in the lift, I then had to shuffle back and forth with one trolley, a bagged bike and the dhol case (which, thankfully, has wheels).
Eventually I made it to the car, feeling extremely exhausted, and promptly devoured some of the strongly smelling Indian flatbread my mother had packed. My eyes were bloodshot and I was really thirsty - but it didn't matter, the hardest part was (hopefully) over. My possessions were in a safe place and I had a nice comfy seat to sit in.
Continued.
