A New Hope
10 July 2012; 12:45
Well, I’m not entirely sure when I’ll get the chance to post this, as Euston station seems to be without any free Wi-Fi connections. I guess the most practical approach is going to be to start date stamping these things in the text; to save myself the headache of constantly having to adjust, the times are all local to me. Still, I’ve got about an hour before my train leaves, and I’m running out of this to do to stay awake.
So far, my Mongol Rally adventure has been off to a rough start. With only a thirty minute layover in Chicago, I was expecting to have to hurry between flights. Unfortunately, I was delayed getting out of Little Rock by a solid twenty minutes. I made a feverish scramble to try and salvage my train ticket (which was super discounted and therefore non-refundable) but had to bite the bullet and expect to eat the cost of another train ticket. Fortunately, our pilot gave new meaning to the phrase “fly like the wind,” and we were actually on time getting into O’Hare. A brisk walk later and I was on my flight to London.
I got an aisle seat on the outside section of the plane, and I was hoping for a chance at conversation with my seatmate; it was a situation of mixed emotions because she turned out to be a very attractive young woman from Croatia whose English was not strong. We exchanged the usual pleasantries and settled in for a long, silent flight.
While the talk was scarce, the flight turned out to be far from silent. A lady two rows back in the middle section who spoke a language I can’t begin to guess what was absolutely refused to stop her child running back and forth up the aisle testing the limits of his vocal chords; I was proud that I only gave her one dirty look and didn’t say anything.
I’m now realizing however that pride in self-restraint is a poor substitute for sleep. I’m about to enter my 27th hour since I last slept, but I’m hoping to catch an hour on the train. I don’t need a lot, as I’ll probably turn in early this evening, but it would be nice to have a bit of a refresher before I meet Nick to get the car; somehow it seems like it would be rude to show up, grab the Suzuki, and excuse myself with little more than a heartfelt “thank you.”
I realize I haven’t painted the most attractive picture so far, and I can’t say the whole trip’s been unpleasant. I had no problems taking the “tube” to Euston, and the courtyard outside the station is a pleasant mix of old world charm and new world chic. If only there was an internet connection I could use, I’d call it the best part so far.