Equipped with a valid US passport, UK visa, plane tickets from our northern neighbor’s finest airline, and two carry-ons that probably didn’t meet Air Canada’s size requirements, I was as ready as I would ever be to make the journey across the pond. The first leg of the flight was on the airplane equivalent of that one school bus the district neglected to upgrade since the Regan administration. After a short layover in Toronto, I transferred to a much nicer vessel for the longer part of the trip. I was advised by friends and family experienced in international travel to try to get as much sleep on the plane as possible. I found obtaining sleep difficult because of the stellar selection of movies on the in-flight entertainment system as well as being contorted in the coach seating.
By the time I landed at the Gatwick airport, my brain was marginally functional due to lack of sleep and major jet lag. I mustered enough brainpower to figure out where I needed to go for customs and baggage claim. The wait time in the customs line was similar to that of an amusement park on a busy day, but the excitement at the end of the line was a different kind of thrill. The amiable customs officer only asked me two questions and I was sent on my way. Stepping outside the airport in order to catch a ride with an Uber, the weather was of stereotypical drab variety. The Uber ride to the Chapter building where I am staying was uneventful. The building is like the Daniels dorm at UC, but way nicer. The living spaces are cramped compared to anything west of New York City, but they are livable. I wasn’t fazed by the though of having a roommate because I have lived with an eclectic bunch of strong personalities throughout college. My roommate is a good dude, head and shoulders above some of the people I have lived with in the past. I wasn’t that nervous of about the cultural differences between us Yanks and the Londoners. I had consumed enough British media through the BBC and NPR to have a decent idea of what the culture was like. I obviously am not an expert; so I was still caught off guard by some the terminology differences. I had was very confused when a server asked me if I wanted to have take away rather than carry out. Also, some of the stronger, more regional accents can be hard to understand at first. I am not a fan of how the restaurants don’t split checks. I thought the time I lived in the east coast was the last time I would have to deal with that inconvenience. Overall it’s been a fairly smooth transition, but I am sure I will run into more cultural differences with the more locals I meet.
0 Comments
Leave a Reply. |
Author: Chris StarkI'm a senior industrial design student interning abroad for my second to last semester! Archives
December 2017
Categories |