My flight from the Chicago O'Hare International Airport departed at 6:15 on Sunday the 28th of August. I was driven to the airport by my mom, dad, and sister. The 3 hour drive went by very quickly and with only two stops. The first was at the Barnes and Nobel in Davenport, Iowa to pick up a gift for the German family I was to be leasing from. I didn't really have any ideas about which book to buy them but I was confident that while looking through B and N's selection I would find one.
Sure enough, we found a book called "Midwest Marvels" in the regional travel section. It contained random points of interest in Iowa, Minnesota, North Dakota, South Dakota, and Wisconsin, including the future birthplace of James T. Kirk, the Dells, and the world's largest, hand-wound ball of twine. After the successful purchase we stopped for a quick lunch at McDonlads to ensure I had enough greasy, American food to get me through the flight at least.
Upon arriving to the airport I checked my luggage with little issue. We lingered for a moment outside security. My present family members hugged me and promptly walked away. I didn't dwell but focused on the next step, getting through airport security. This I did with little issue and easily found my gate. I had about an hour to departure so I sat and mainly listened to my fellow passengers. Directly across from me, two British women were seated, piling up the American coins they had in their pockets in a last ditch effort to spend it before they left the States. On my other side, was an Indian family with three younger children who chattered insistently while their parents watched them expressionlessly.
Before boarding I got a few texts and a phone call that really helped bolster my spirits. All the worries of the previous few days were gone. There just wasn't really any room for them. I had to focus on getting through the next 11 hours. We boarded right on time and in neat order. I got a window seat at the back of the plane and settled in. Within a few minutes my seat-mate threw her bag in the overhead compartment and sat down. Her name was Kirsten and beyond all possibility, she was a senior at the University of Minnesota! We chatted for an hour or two about life in Minneapolis and what was in store for the both of us over the next few months. She was studying European sustainability efforts in Germany with a program that would also be traveling to several other countries.
After those first few hours we fell to silence, playing with armrest controls and reading. We chatted again over dinner (steak and potatoes for me, pasta for her), and then resumed our own activities. As the sky outside grew steadily darker, I watched Alien and tried to sleep. Kirsten fell asleep for a few hours though I never could.
Not long after passing the Emerald Isle we were approaching Britain. Kirsten and I switched places so she could snap a few pictures through the window. We were soon flying over London and I was starting to regret my decision to switch places with her. Despite my somewhat disadvantaged viewpoint I was still able to snap a picture of downtown London that turned out okay.
We circled the Heathrow Airport for a time before coming in for a smooth landing. We by the time I was able to exit the plane it was 8:30 am on August the 29th and my next flight took off at 9:40 am. Cutting it a little close. I hurried through a quick security check and then along what seemed like an endless corridor before arriving in Terminal 1 were the Lufthansa flight was scheduled to take off. My gate wasn't posted on my ticket so I walked over to the electronic flight board and quickly found my flight to Cologne. The gate wasn't posted however and wasn't scheduled to be posted until 9:00 am. So, I had half an hour to wait. I couldn't help but think this would never fly in America. We like to reach our gates at least an hour ahead of time. Amazing how relaxed about it the Brits seemed to be.
Me waiting for my gate to be posted the in Heathrow International Airport.
While I was waiting for my gate to be posted an older couple approached the board and scanned it anxiously. After looking over it a few times they frowned and huddled together, speaking softly. My interest was piqued when a few words of what they were saying reached me. They were speaking German. After letting them deliberate a moment I approached them and asked if they needed any help in German. They nodded and said they could not find the gate for their plane traveling to Munich. I explained (as best I could) that they're flight gate wouldn't be posted until 9:40 am.
They thanked me and asked if I was from Holland. Amused I said I was from the United States. They expressed their surprise that an American could speak German and shuffled off together to wait for their gate to be posted. Not long after they had left my own gate appeared on the screen and I hurried off to find it. The gate was located at the end of another long corridor and through three sets of double doors. These doors had to be opened by airport personnel before we could enter and the other doors into that corridor were shut, probably as a means of security.
When I finally got to my gate I sat against the far wall and read my book for a time. The boarding time (9:40 am) came and went and I could see the other passengers around me becoming restless. I was reminded of the layover we had in Sao Paulo, Brazil and was very glad that at least here everyone spoke English. Finally, someone did come over the PA system and announced that the flight had been delayed until at least 10:30 am due to a mechanical problem. Further updates would be received as they became available.
I was a little anxious about the delay, simply because my landlords were to be picking me up from the airport. Hopefully they would not be too distressed about having to wait and would check the arrival boards in Cologne to monitor my flight. So I waited for a time, wandering back to the center of Terminal 1 and looking at the shops along the walls. When I finally did return to my gate the doors were once again barred and I had to wait with a small group of people until a newly arrived plane had unloaded its passengers. By the time we got back to our gate it was past 10:30 and I asked a flight attendant if there was any news about the plane, trying my best (and mostly succeeding) not to mimic her British accent. She said the plane was departing now.
We loaded the machine in quick order. The plane was a larger one though only about 1/3 of the way full. I had another window seat in a row of three with one gentleman on the end and no one in the middle. This flight went by in a hurry. We were served a sparse breakfast and soon were coming in for a landing at the Cologne Airport. When we had taxied to the gate I was in a hurry to disembark and not keep my landlords waiting too much longer.
When I got through a quick security check and had my passport stamped I found an little old man holding a sign with my name on it. This must be Harold, whom I had communicated with a few times via email. He greeted me warmly and we walked my luggage down several levels to the parking lot. We then loaded it into an old Mercedes Benz and took a scenic route to the apartment, skirting the edges of downtown Cologne. As we drove I kept up a constant stream of questions, half in English, half in German. I was surprised and pleased with my ability to understand most of what he said in German.
After about half an hour we arrived at the apartment. It was just as I had seen it in photographs before arriving. Once inside we met Christin, Harold's wife and a Wisconsin native. She was very energetic and seemed a little strict. She certainly didnt' take any chances in ensuring I understood all the finer points of a landlord/leaser relationship, or how to work any household appliances. After a quick snack on the patio of their beautiful home (pictures to come later) we went through a two hour rundown of how to operate everything in my new accommodations.
My new room (half unpacked).
After that I unpacked and finally regained internet access from my new room. I concluded the day with a quick tour of the neighborhood with Harold. I also met one of my new roommates, a Greek native named Nikos. We sat down to dinner with our landlords and had a very long conversation, interrupted only slightly when Harold left to pick up our final roommate, a Chinese girl named Zhao. Nikos spoke very little English and very little German, though he was quickly improving his German. We had a short, grammatically-frayed conversation in Denglish that required all of his concentration to understand what I was saying, and all of my concentration to phrase things as simply as possible and try and guess the meaning of his half-sentences.
After I had relaxed for a little bit, Harold returned with Zhao and she was given a quick introduction to the building and to us. By this time it was 11:00 pm and everyone was ready for bed. Zhao seemed like a very typical Chinese girl. Very polite, and shy, though not too shy about asking questions. After her introduction I headed for bed. All day I had been riding a roller coaster of utter exhaustion and second winds, so I was anxious to finally try and get my biological clock back on track with a good night's rest.
