January 18, 2008
Quite some time has passed since I have recorded the situations and experiences I have had recently; so I will pick it up back in Belize. The last entry was on the fourth of January; the last couple of days I do not remember very well; I can't pinpoint what we did during those days, but our last day with them was Sunday night, the 6th because they all returned to school on the 7th, the day we were leaving. Some lucky ones, aka Paul & Ryan got to go see them in the morning, but the rest of us were left in the lurch and didn't get to see them that one last time. Anyway, we said our good-byes that night with tears and sadness in our souls, and then the next day was spent cleaning the house out (the house we had been living in) and packing up our stuff. I got a little bit of a later start to it all, and was barely done in time, but thanks to Julia I managed to scrape through. We took off in the bus and went to the Home to drop off some of our leftover food and stuff to them, but it was very empty without all the kids and rather depressing, but we did not stay for a great length of time for we had to get to the airport for the first group of people to go, namely the Uffindel family & the add-on, Ryan. We were all leaving within a fairly close proximity of eachother which worked out rather nicely, and I was the last to leave, about 30 minutes after the one before me, Amber. We got there with plenty of time for the first ones to go and had some time to do some last minute airport shopping, and some of the guys went on a mission of photographing a man dressed in a nice short pleated skirt and a pretty frilly green blouse; a man definitely above the age of 50. Group by group people began to leave; first the aforementioned Uffindel's/Ryan crew, then the majority of the others, then Marcus, and then it was Amber and I. Her flight was delayed so we waited to see who would go first, since our planes were leaving so close to one another. Her's did indeed go first, and there I sat awaiting mine. I waited, and waited, and then looked around and noticed that the seats in the area of my gate were surprisingly empty – so empty that it got to the point where there were about 3 other people sitting there. I at first thought, man this is going to be a nice and empty flight! But then soon realized that it was impossible to have so few people going on a flight. A man came up to me, asked me where I was going, I told him, and he said he was going to the same place, but was wondering what was going on becaues of the lack of people. I told him I was wondering the same thing, and so he said he'd go ask what the deal was, but got about 2 steps away when another man came up; one from the airport this time. He informed us about how we had to leave the secured area and go back up to the ticket counter because our flight was, you guessed it, cancelled. This caught me off guard, as well as the other guy, but the man assured us that it had been announced and it was definitely cancelled. So with that, we departed to the ticket counter again. There was a crowd standing around, which explained where everyone had gone. I joined in the line and awaited my turn to speak with the people to find out what would happen. I wasn't overly concerned at that point because my connecting flight from Hondura's left the next morning, so I had all night go get there. I made a friend while I waited with this guy from California, and he looked out for me and was very kind, so I appreciated that. Finally it was my turn to speak to them. First of all to quench my curiousity, I inquired as to why the flight had been cancelled; he responded telling me that it was “due to maintenance.” The plane had needed a tire changed, and once that was over the pilot didn't have enough hours left to make it all the way, so he just didn't go. Once that was settled I went on to find out when the soonest possible time was when I could get to Honduras. His answer was unfortunate – he said it would be tomorrow, same time; 5:20pm. 9 hours too late. I would be stuck in Honduras at that point, most likely quite unable to get to Miami on time to make that flight, and so on. Now don't get me wrong, I loved Honduras, but I wasn't all too thrilled about possibly being stuck there, no money, nowhere to go, no Spanish. But what could I do? There were no more flights, so that just had to be the way it was, and it was their fault so they would have to take care of it! They gave us all a hotel for the night, and it was a most lovely hotel, named the Bilton I believe. :P There was another crowd standing around the hotel desk of various people who were supposed to be on the same flight, so I again waited my turn. I was informed that there was wireless internet access, but it cost $11 US. I had maybe half that. I was so broke, had some in my bank account, but had no way of accessing it, and my bank card didn't work to pay for it. I was in a rather large predicament because there were a ton of people I had to get in contact with to let them know that I would not be arriving at my various destinations where they would be meeting up with me, etc. And I needed the internet to do it! I felt like a kid, lost and alone, and began to feel my eyes filling up with salty liquid. I tried to explain the problem to the people, feeling so utterly foolish and pathetic, and then my eyes filled to the point of no return and began to flood over, causing me to feel even more pathetic than I already did! The lady was very nice though, and said that it was ok and that she'd let me use it without paying. I was most grateful to her, said thank you, attempted to regain my composure, took a hold of my enormously heavy and awkward duffle bag, and staggered towards the direction of my room. I was so overheated and traumatized that I went straight to the shower (first hot shower in a long time!) and attempted to gather myself together and calm down. Following that, I went straight to my computer to try to get the internet; it of course failed because you had to get a username and password to be able to use it, so I went to my wallet again to actually count how much I had. When I went through all of my change, I found out that I had just enough to pay for it, with about 1 Belizean dollar to spare. This caused me to feel great joy and so I went back to the front desk to try again, even though she had offered it to me free of charge I did not feel right using it if I actually did have enough money, so I took it to her, and got the internet. I began to try to figure things out, emailed everyone I needed to, and got in contact with my parents. The situation caused them great concern and so they set about to find a way for me to get my connecting flights. Long into the night they worked, looking for a solution, and finally one was found. I would go to Houston instead of Honduras and Miami, and then from Houston would try to convince Continental to do a little fancy footwork and take me on a different flight to get me to Newark on time. Sounded a little risky to me, but it was the only way so I went back out to the front desk (this was the next morning by the way) and told them the change of plans and asked if they could call the shuttle for me so that I could be taken to the airport ASAP. They said no. The shuttle would only come at 3:00pm for EVERYBODY, didn't come any other time. I asked them how I was supposed to get to the airport then, and their only answer was a taxi. I asked how much it would cost; they said $25 US. I threw my hands up in the air and said I had nothing and once again asked how I was supposed to get there with no money. They came up with the concept that I would just have to convince the airport to pay for it. They agreed to call a taxi for me, and I rushed off to my room to pack my bags again and lug it out to wait for the ride. I packed in record time and hurried back out to see if it had arrived yet. It hadn't. And didn't for a good half hour. One of the hotel boys came out, and started talking to me, and he told me that the taxi driver would be driving a green mini van. A few minutes later a car pulled up and the guy driving it saw me standing there and got out and asked me if I was going to the airport. I said, “...yesss...” and he was like, “Oh ok, I'll take you there!” And then he came over and grabbed my duffle bag and took it to his car to put it in the trunk. Meanwhile I looked over at the hotel boy and was like, is that the guy I'm supposed to be going with?? And he was like, ummm no. And I was just kind of like ok then what should I do?! He's got my bag! So luckily the hotel boy quickly went over to him and informed him that a taxi had already been called and would be here shortly to take me, so I didn't need a ride. I was very thankful that he stopped him for me! The guy driving the car just kind of stood there with my bag half in the trunk with a bit of a smirk on his face, then walked back over with my bag and dropped it at my feet. It was a bit of a sketchy situation and I thanked the boy profusely for straightening that out. So, I sat down to wait for my real taxi driver. Finally he came, and we got my bag in and off we went. As soon as I got in, I started right into my story. “So...I have NO money whatsoever to pay you with.” The driver kind of looked over at me and slowed to a stop and asked me what I was going to do then. I began to explain that the people at the hotel told me that the airline would have to pay for it, since I had to get to the airport anyway, so I told him as soon as we got there I would go talk to them and do my best to convince them to pay for it. The poor guy looked a little flabbergasted at this and reluctantly kept going. It was about a 15 minute drive to the airport, the guy was very nice and we talked pretty much the whole way there, although it was a little strange because at one point he asked me if I had ever been to Belize before, and I told him yes, and he then asked me when I had come last, and then he said he was pretty sure he recognized me; not sure how that was possible but whatever...a little creepy. So anyway, he agreed to come in if there were any issues with the airline and try to help convince them to pay him. Luckily all went well with that, and after a few tense moments when she was going around talking the manager about it, she came back with the $25 for the taxi driver. I was most thankful about that fact, and then I started to try to figure out if I could get on the flight to Houston or not. The manager guy came out and I told my story of what was going on, and he quickly set to work since there was not much time to get me on that flight, he took care of me right to the end and I was very glad that he didn't just leave me in the lurch to do what I could myself, so within a fairly short period of time he had me hooked up with this ticket and off I hurried to go through security again. One nice thing about small airports is it goes much faster to go through security; there's never any lines, and although there was only one line, there was not a soul there but me, so it is much more convenient if you are in a hurry. I got to the gate, and I was just in time for they were just starting to board. I got in line and when I got there, I unfortunately ended up not having a seat, but that problem was resolved shortly so it was ok, although a little disconcerting for the first 30 seconds. Anyway, I left the airport, and walked across the tarmac to my plane, breathing in deeply the last lungfuls of air I would receive from Belize for some time, and boarded my plane, sad to leave, but happy that I could go.
Some time later I arrived in Houston. Luckily the airport was not as confusing as I was worried it would be. I shuffled through my tickets to see where I had to go, and in the process, I noticed something about the times; they didn't quite line up, so I went to the closest desk I saw and showed them this problem. The man took it without saying a word and about 30 seconds later told me that he put me on an earlier flight and told me I had to hurry as fast as I could and go to the gate that he showed me. Off I took; practically running, hoping I would get there. I did. Unfortunately, I was faced once again with a delayed flight. It ended up leaving at the same time as the other flight was supposed to leave, and lo and behold I once again missed the connecting flight. So there I was in Newark again; waiting in a line to find out what I could do now. This time I was not so concerned because it was my last flight so I couldn't miss another one, so I just patiently waited. There were about 4 other people going to Norway, and I heard that there was a flight going from Newark to Paris and then on to Norway the next day, so I thought I might get to cross off another country on my list, but alas there was not enough space, so I spent the night at the Howard Johnson hotel, precisely where we had stayed 2 months previously when we had begun our journey to Honduras. I now feel like that hotel is my second home...haha. It is a fairly nice place though with good service, and I made many friends in that day with various people from the flight to Houston and those in the hotel, mainly because I could not get internet access from my room and I had to be in range of the lobby, so I went and sat in the hallway where many people passed and kept seeing me there and would comment every time they went past. It got a little old. :P Anyway, my flight was supposed to leave at 8:05pm, so I had the whole day in the hotel pretty much, but decided it would be best if I went to the airport at 5:30pm since boarding time was 7:20pm. I was all ready to go, but I missed the shuttle by seconds, so I had to wait an extra half hour, so I was glad that I had decided to go a little early, or else I could have been rather late. The shuttle came and off we went back to the airport; I got through security and everything with no problem and sat down to wait for my plane. During that time I met a brother and sister who were going to Europe for the first time to visit friends; probably around my age or a little younger; and I met a lady from Norway who was going home for a visit I believe. Then once the plane boarded I was set with a woman and son who were Norwegians and were also going home for a visit. They were very nice people and we had some interesting conversations about everything from film school to Borracherro trees. It was a night flight, but I only slept for maybe 15 minutes for the duration of the 7 ish hour flight, but when I awoke and looked out the window I could see the great land of Norway, it's snowy mountains illuminated by the early morning light. The sun cast a lovely golden glow over the clouds and the mountain tops, and although I dreaded the cold, I was glad to be back.
Once in the airport, I went to get my baggage. I guess there was one more thing that could have gone wrong, so it did. They had lost my luggage, so I stood there waiting, and waiting, and waiting, right up until they turned the belt off, and no Canadian duffle bag came through. So I had the joy of going to the desk again to try to see if they could find it. They asked for my baggage number and I looked through every single thing I had with me, and could not find it. At that point they informed me that if I didn't have it, it would take much longer to find it and I might not get it for quite some time. This concerned me slightly but I had no way of giving them this number, so, they told me they would do what they could and off I went again, hoping they would find it soon. Now Marcus was supposed to be coming in the same day, or so I thought, so I went to see if I could find out when he was coming in. There were a few planes coming in from Amsterdam relatively soon, so I thought I'd wait for them to see if he would be there so we could go on the train to Hokksund together, and after about an hour and a half, I gave up waiting and went to get my train ticket. I called Werner and told him when I would be getting in, and he said he would send someone. Since my luggage hadn't come through I had nothing warm except a sweater and I had to wait for the train outside, although since it wasn't coming for a while I came back inside in the meantime where it was a little bit warmer, although every time the doors would open there would be a nice cold blast of air, but it was alright. About 40 minutes later the train came, and I got on. It wasn't exactly warm on the train either and I was shivering, and then to make matters worse, my nose started to bleed. I, of course, had no tissues with me, so there I was trying to stop the bleeding without looking conspicuous, and within a matter of minutes my hands were splashed with blood. I wondered what people must have been thinking about me, but I could not do much else, and finally it stopped. I felt like it was all over my face, but I couldn't really tell. I was so exhausted I wanted to sleep, but I was terrified of missing my stop then, and since I had no more money, I knew I couldn't afford to pay more to get to where I was supposed to, but my body had a different idea and I ended up dozing off. Luckily it was a very shallow sleep and I would awaken with a start every time I would hear the announcement of the stop we were about to make, thinking wildly in my mind, “is this where I have to get off??!” But finally after about 5 stops like that, we arrived at my own, and I exited the train and looked around for someone who was picking me up. I saw no one, so I started walking through the tunnel and out to where they usually parked to pick people up. I waited, and waited, and my nose still felt like it was bleeding, I was freezing cold and was standing there with my backpack and the smaller bag I had with me. At that moment I felt like a little homeless kid. :P FINALLY Andrew showed up with the car, and off we went to Skotselv. We made a stop at a little mall and I went in to see if I could find things that I needed that were in my bag that was lost, and then off we went again.
We arrived back at EBS safe and sound much to my delight, and from there on, life carried on as it is ought to do.
(Sorry this is so horrendously long - it was written over several days, ever since the 18th until yesterday, which therefore caused the length to greatly increase!)
Quite some time has passed since I have recorded the situations and experiences I have had recently; so I will pick it up back in Belize. The last entry was on the fourth of January; the last couple of days I do not remember very well; I can't pinpoint what we did during those days, but our last day with them was Sunday night, the 6th because they all returned to school on the 7th, the day we were leaving. Some lucky ones, aka Paul & Ryan got to go see them in the morning, but the rest of us were left in the lurch and didn't get to see them that one last time. Anyway, we said our good-byes that night with tears and sadness in our souls, and then the next day was spent cleaning the house out (the house we had been living in) and packing up our stuff. I got a little bit of a later start to it all, and was barely done in time, but thanks to Julia I managed to scrape through. We took off in the bus and went to the Home to drop off some of our leftover food and stuff to them, but it was very empty without all the kids and rather depressing, but we did not stay for a great length of time for we had to get to the airport for the first group of people to go, namely the Uffindel family & the add-on, Ryan. We were all leaving within a fairly close proximity of eachother which worked out rather nicely, and I was the last to leave, about 30 minutes after the one before me, Amber. We got there with plenty of time for the first ones to go and had some time to do some last minute airport shopping, and some of the guys went on a mission of photographing a man dressed in a nice short pleated skirt and a pretty frilly green blouse; a man definitely above the age of 50. Group by group people began to leave; first the aforementioned Uffindel's/Ryan crew, then the majority of the others, then Marcus, and then it was Amber and I. Her flight was delayed so we waited to see who would go first, since our planes were leaving so close to one another. Her's did indeed go first, and there I sat awaiting mine. I waited, and waited, and then looked around and noticed that the seats in the area of my gate were surprisingly empty – so empty that it got to the point where there were about 3 other people sitting there. I at first thought, man this is going to be a nice and empty flight! But then soon realized that it was impossible to have so few people going on a flight. A man came up to me, asked me where I was going, I told him, and he said he was going to the same place, but was wondering what was going on becaues of the lack of people. I told him I was wondering the same thing, and so he said he'd go ask what the deal was, but got about 2 steps away when another man came up; one from the airport this time. He informed us about how we had to leave the secured area and go back up to the ticket counter because our flight was, you guessed it, cancelled. This caught me off guard, as well as the other guy, but the man assured us that it had been announced and it was definitely cancelled. So with that, we departed to the ticket counter again. There was a crowd standing around, which explained where everyone had gone. I joined in the line and awaited my turn to speak with the people to find out what would happen. I wasn't overly concerned at that point because my connecting flight from Hondura's left the next morning, so I had all night go get there. I made a friend while I waited with this guy from California, and he looked out for me and was very kind, so I appreciated that. Finally it was my turn to speak to them. First of all to quench my curiousity, I inquired as to why the flight had been cancelled; he responded telling me that it was “due to maintenance.” The plane had needed a tire changed, and once that was over the pilot didn't have enough hours left to make it all the way, so he just didn't go. Once that was settled I went on to find out when the soonest possible time was when I could get to Honduras. His answer was unfortunate – he said it would be tomorrow, same time; 5:20pm. 9 hours too late. I would be stuck in Honduras at that point, most likely quite unable to get to Miami on time to make that flight, and so on. Now don't get me wrong, I loved Honduras, but I wasn't all too thrilled about possibly being stuck there, no money, nowhere to go, no Spanish. But what could I do? There were no more flights, so that just had to be the way it was, and it was their fault so they would have to take care of it! They gave us all a hotel for the night, and it was a most lovely hotel, named the Bilton I believe. :P There was another crowd standing around the hotel desk of various people who were supposed to be on the same flight, so I again waited my turn. I was informed that there was wireless internet access, but it cost $11 US. I had maybe half that. I was so broke, had some in my bank account, but had no way of accessing it, and my bank card didn't work to pay for it. I was in a rather large predicament because there were a ton of people I had to get in contact with to let them know that I would not be arriving at my various destinations where they would be meeting up with me, etc. And I needed the internet to do it! I felt like a kid, lost and alone, and began to feel my eyes filling up with salty liquid. I tried to explain the problem to the people, feeling so utterly foolish and pathetic, and then my eyes filled to the point of no return and began to flood over, causing me to feel even more pathetic than I already did! The lady was very nice though, and said that it was ok and that she'd let me use it without paying. I was most grateful to her, said thank you, attempted to regain my composure, took a hold of my enormously heavy and awkward duffle bag, and staggered towards the direction of my room. I was so overheated and traumatized that I went straight to the shower (first hot shower in a long time!) and attempted to gather myself together and calm down. Following that, I went straight to my computer to try to get the internet; it of course failed because you had to get a username and password to be able to use it, so I went to my wallet again to actually count how much I had. When I went through all of my change, I found out that I had just enough to pay for it, with about 1 Belizean dollar to spare. This caused me to feel great joy and so I went back to the front desk to try again, even though she had offered it to me free of charge I did not feel right using it if I actually did have enough money, so I took it to her, and got the internet. I began to try to figure things out, emailed everyone I needed to, and got in contact with my parents. The situation caused them great concern and so they set about to find a way for me to get my connecting flights. Long into the night they worked, looking for a solution, and finally one was found. I would go to Houston instead of Honduras and Miami, and then from Houston would try to convince Continental to do a little fancy footwork and take me on a different flight to get me to Newark on time. Sounded a little risky to me, but it was the only way so I went back out to the front desk (this was the next morning by the way) and told them the change of plans and asked if they could call the shuttle for me so that I could be taken to the airport ASAP. They said no. The shuttle would only come at 3:00pm for EVERYBODY, didn't come any other time. I asked them how I was supposed to get to the airport then, and their only answer was a taxi. I asked how much it would cost; they said $25 US. I threw my hands up in the air and said I had nothing and once again asked how I was supposed to get there with no money. They came up with the concept that I would just have to convince the airport to pay for it. They agreed to call a taxi for me, and I rushed off to my room to pack my bags again and lug it out to wait for the ride. I packed in record time and hurried back out to see if it had arrived yet. It hadn't. And didn't for a good half hour. One of the hotel boys came out, and started talking to me, and he told me that the taxi driver would be driving a green mini van. A few minutes later a car pulled up and the guy driving it saw me standing there and got out and asked me if I was going to the airport. I said, “...yesss...” and he was like, “Oh ok, I'll take you there!” And then he came over and grabbed my duffle bag and took it to his car to put it in the trunk. Meanwhile I looked over at the hotel boy and was like, is that the guy I'm supposed to be going with?? And he was like, ummm no. And I was just kind of like ok then what should I do?! He's got my bag! So luckily the hotel boy quickly went over to him and informed him that a taxi had already been called and would be here shortly to take me, so I didn't need a ride. I was very thankful that he stopped him for me! The guy driving the car just kind of stood there with my bag half in the trunk with a bit of a smirk on his face, then walked back over with my bag and dropped it at my feet. It was a bit of a sketchy situation and I thanked the boy profusely for straightening that out. So, I sat down to wait for my real taxi driver. Finally he came, and we got my bag in and off we went. As soon as I got in, I started right into my story. “So...I have NO money whatsoever to pay you with.” The driver kind of looked over at me and slowed to a stop and asked me what I was going to do then. I began to explain that the people at the hotel told me that the airline would have to pay for it, since I had to get to the airport anyway, so I told him as soon as we got there I would go talk to them and do my best to convince them to pay for it. The poor guy looked a little flabbergasted at this and reluctantly kept going. It was about a 15 minute drive to the airport, the guy was very nice and we talked pretty much the whole way there, although it was a little strange because at one point he asked me if I had ever been to Belize before, and I told him yes, and he then asked me when I had come last, and then he said he was pretty sure he recognized me; not sure how that was possible but whatever...a little creepy. So anyway, he agreed to come in if there were any issues with the airline and try to help convince them to pay him. Luckily all went well with that, and after a few tense moments when she was going around talking the manager about it, she came back with the $25 for the taxi driver. I was most thankful about that fact, and then I started to try to figure out if I could get on the flight to Houston or not. The manager guy came out and I told my story of what was going on, and he quickly set to work since there was not much time to get me on that flight, he took care of me right to the end and I was very glad that he didn't just leave me in the lurch to do what I could myself, so within a fairly short period of time he had me hooked up with this ticket and off I hurried to go through security again. One nice thing about small airports is it goes much faster to go through security; there's never any lines, and although there was only one line, there was not a soul there but me, so it is much more convenient if you are in a hurry. I got to the gate, and I was just in time for they were just starting to board. I got in line and when I got there, I unfortunately ended up not having a seat, but that problem was resolved shortly so it was ok, although a little disconcerting for the first 30 seconds. Anyway, I left the airport, and walked across the tarmac to my plane, breathing in deeply the last lungfuls of air I would receive from Belize for some time, and boarded my plane, sad to leave, but happy that I could go.
Some time later I arrived in Houston. Luckily the airport was not as confusing as I was worried it would be. I shuffled through my tickets to see where I had to go, and in the process, I noticed something about the times; they didn't quite line up, so I went to the closest desk I saw and showed them this problem. The man took it without saying a word and about 30 seconds later told me that he put me on an earlier flight and told me I had to hurry as fast as I could and go to the gate that he showed me. Off I took; practically running, hoping I would get there. I did. Unfortunately, I was faced once again with a delayed flight. It ended up leaving at the same time as the other flight was supposed to leave, and lo and behold I once again missed the connecting flight. So there I was in Newark again; waiting in a line to find out what I could do now. This time I was not so concerned because it was my last flight so I couldn't miss another one, so I just patiently waited. There were about 4 other people going to Norway, and I heard that there was a flight going from Newark to Paris and then on to Norway the next day, so I thought I might get to cross off another country on my list, but alas there was not enough space, so I spent the night at the Howard Johnson hotel, precisely where we had stayed 2 months previously when we had begun our journey to Honduras. I now feel like that hotel is my second home...haha. It is a fairly nice place though with good service, and I made many friends in that day with various people from the flight to Houston and those in the hotel, mainly because I could not get internet access from my room and I had to be in range of the lobby, so I went and sat in the hallway where many people passed and kept seeing me there and would comment every time they went past. It got a little old. :P Anyway, my flight was supposed to leave at 8:05pm, so I had the whole day in the hotel pretty much, but decided it would be best if I went to the airport at 5:30pm since boarding time was 7:20pm. I was all ready to go, but I missed the shuttle by seconds, so I had to wait an extra half hour, so I was glad that I had decided to go a little early, or else I could have been rather late. The shuttle came and off we went back to the airport; I got through security and everything with no problem and sat down to wait for my plane. During that time I met a brother and sister who were going to Europe for the first time to visit friends; probably around my age or a little younger; and I met a lady from Norway who was going home for a visit I believe. Then once the plane boarded I was set with a woman and son who were Norwegians and were also going home for a visit. They were very nice people and we had some interesting conversations about everything from film school to Borracherro trees. It was a night flight, but I only slept for maybe 15 minutes for the duration of the 7 ish hour flight, but when I awoke and looked out the window I could see the great land of Norway, it's snowy mountains illuminated by the early morning light. The sun cast a lovely golden glow over the clouds and the mountain tops, and although I dreaded the cold, I was glad to be back.
Once in the airport, I went to get my baggage. I guess there was one more thing that could have gone wrong, so it did. They had lost my luggage, so I stood there waiting, and waiting, and waiting, right up until they turned the belt off, and no Canadian duffle bag came through. So I had the joy of going to the desk again to try to see if they could find it. They asked for my baggage number and I looked through every single thing I had with me, and could not find it. At that point they informed me that if I didn't have it, it would take much longer to find it and I might not get it for quite some time. This concerned me slightly but I had no way of giving them this number, so, they told me they would do what they could and off I went again, hoping they would find it soon. Now Marcus was supposed to be coming in the same day, or so I thought, so I went to see if I could find out when he was coming in. There were a few planes coming in from Amsterdam relatively soon, so I thought I'd wait for them to see if he would be there so we could go on the train to Hokksund together, and after about an hour and a half, I gave up waiting and went to get my train ticket. I called Werner and told him when I would be getting in, and he said he would send someone. Since my luggage hadn't come through I had nothing warm except a sweater and I had to wait for the train outside, although since it wasn't coming for a while I came back inside in the meantime where it was a little bit warmer, although every time the doors would open there would be a nice cold blast of air, but it was alright. About 40 minutes later the train came, and I got on. It wasn't exactly warm on the train either and I was shivering, and then to make matters worse, my nose started to bleed. I, of course, had no tissues with me, so there I was trying to stop the bleeding without looking conspicuous, and within a matter of minutes my hands were splashed with blood. I wondered what people must have been thinking about me, but I could not do much else, and finally it stopped. I felt like it was all over my face, but I couldn't really tell. I was so exhausted I wanted to sleep, but I was terrified of missing my stop then, and since I had no more money, I knew I couldn't afford to pay more to get to where I was supposed to, but my body had a different idea and I ended up dozing off. Luckily it was a very shallow sleep and I would awaken with a start every time I would hear the announcement of the stop we were about to make, thinking wildly in my mind, “is this where I have to get off??!” But finally after about 5 stops like that, we arrived at my own, and I exited the train and looked around for someone who was picking me up. I saw no one, so I started walking through the tunnel and out to where they usually parked to pick people up. I waited, and waited, and my nose still felt like it was bleeding, I was freezing cold and was standing there with my backpack and the smaller bag I had with me. At that moment I felt like a little homeless kid. :P FINALLY Andrew showed up with the car, and off we went to Skotselv. We made a stop at a little mall and I went in to see if I could find things that I needed that were in my bag that was lost, and then off we went again.
We arrived back at EBS safe and sound much to my delight, and from there on, life carried on as it is ought to do.
(Sorry this is so horrendously long - it was written over several days, ever since the 18th until yesterday, which therefore caused the length to greatly increase!)
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