Down the Rabbit-Hole

“Alice started to her feet, for it flashed across her mind that she had never before seen a rabbit with either a waistcoat-pocket, or a watch to take out of it and, burning with curiosity, she ran across the field after it, and fortunately was just in time to see it pop down a large rabbit-hole under the hedge. In another moment down went Alice after it, never once considering how in the world she was to get out again.” 

From Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland by Lewis Carroll

One of the most difficult parts of moving to another country is choosing what to pack, what to store, and what must move on (either to the trash or a willing/unwilling recipient). So not surprisingly my journey to the University of Warwick begins with my baggage.

As a general rule I'm a frugal traveler. Really, why pay more when you can work the system and be able to spend that money on something better - like coffee, for example. Because of this stinginess I never check a bag when flying. I am morally against paying $35 so they can, most likely, loose my luggage. However, when deciding what to do about packing for England, I bit the bullet and packed two checked bags. 

Yet even with this concession I still stumbled on a major hurdle, my stuff weighed too much. Insistent that all the items I planned to were a necessity, I shifted and squeezed and in the end got everything in to one of my four bags. A scientific fact must be acknowledged before I continue relating my adventure; an item weighs the same no matter how well a person packs or in what bag the item ends up. Because of this I found myself with two checked bags that stayed under the 50 pound limit and a carry on item that boasted a weight of over 40 pounds. The only hope I had was that the airline would be as oblivious as usual to a bag that held close to 15 pounds more than was technically allowed. 

As any smart reader may have already have guessed, the above scenario created interesting encounters for me every stop in my journey.

First Stop: American Airlines ticket counter. The kind gentleman (because he actually was nice, which was a pleasant surprise) at the counter looked at my overloaded wheeled carry-on and stated, "That bag is not going to be allowed as a carry-on." I had several options laid before me and in the end I chose to suck it up and pay an overweight charge for one of my bags. 

Second Stop: Boarding. The not so nice check-in lady looked at my backpack and stated, "that's not going to fit on the plane." When I argued, saying I had done it before, she still made me see if the backpack fit in the little metal frame "sample space" that they had waiting by the gate for such line interrupting, humiliating situations such as mine. I knew the bag was packed too full - there wasn't any give - and that on the plane I'd have to hide the part of the bag the didn't fit under my seat by my legs (thankfully I knew I had a window seat so the task could be accomplished). After being glared at by everyone who had to step around me, I forced my poor bag into the space, only having to shift a few front pocket items into my already overweight carry-on. With a begrudging nod the lady allowed me to board with my massive backpack.

Third Stop: Virgin Atlantic ticket counter. As I got in line a British gentleman tagged my rolling carry-on items and, as if he had a sixth sense about such things, stated, "Your carry-on may only be 30 pounds. They may weigh your bag." Great. I knew my rolling bag weighed more than 30 pounds, I just didn't know by how much. Frantically, when I didn't think any airline employees were looking, I unzipped my carry-on and pulled out my laptop, stashing it in the straps of my backpack. When my signaled to approach, I stealthily tucked my bags under the counter where the ticket agent couldn't see them. I waited with baited breath. and then I almost whooped with exhilaration when she gave me my boarding pass and directed me to the security line. I'd made it through my next trial.

Fourth Stop: Luggage pickup in London Heathrow. If you've done the math you have already realized  that at this point I had a problem; three wheeled bags, that together weighted almost 150 pounds, and me...alone. My original concept included attaching my carry-on to a checked bag via the built-in strap. Great plan - when the little bag doesn't weigh 40 pounds. Surprisingly, the bags aren't intended to be attached when loaded to the gills. My first attempt at attaching the two bags worked but for some reason completely beyond my understanding I decided I needed to stop and do something, it must have been important but the reason has escaped me. Bags fell everywhere and when I tried to right the double bag the extending handle on the larger bag bent to such an extent that I feared that it would either break off or never return to its closed position. Carefully straightening the handle and glanced around for a luggage trolley but there were none around and I couldn't leave my belongings. I attempted to push all three bags and ended up raging at God for not creating women with three arms (not men, they often don't use the ones they were given). 20 minutes and significant exertion later, having successfully attached my bags together, I headed for the exit - only to realize that I wasn't going to make it much farther lugging almost 200 pounds (don't forget the crammed backpack). I felt like a climber who was within sight of the top of Mount Everest, I didn't know if I could make it, but I had worked so hard to get this far that I had to at least try. Walking through security I saw the red shirts of the Warwick pick-up team and rushed towards them like a dying man to an oasis, sweat dripping down my face.

I had made it to humanity and with it came men. It took little effort to get a guy to help me bring my bags to the bus. Then with the help of a new friend I got them to my temporary Orientation Week housing.

Now I just have to get them to my flat in Coventry...I think I'm going to get a cab!