Making connections...or not

Istanbul was only the first phase of my post-teaching travels. I was about to embark on the second phase of five phases. 

After learning I had been accepted to teach in the Study in England Programme, my friend Cindy and I hatched a plan to visit some of the Nazi concentration camps.   Our work on the Baeumler Kaplan Holocaust Commemoration Committee acquainted us with the evil of these camps, but we felt compelled to see these camps ourselves.  This meant we were committed to visit a number of European cities. 

The first step in our plan though was to connect in London.  Cindy sent me her itinerary indicating that she was scheduled to arrive around noon at Heathrow airport, so I arranged my return flight from Turkey to arrive a few hours after Cindy's flight.  We agreed to meet at Paddington Station by a World War I statue.

I was concerned about the timing.  My flight was scheduled to arrive at Gatwick airport at 2:30 p.m.,  I had to go through passport control and then catch the train back to Victoria.  As luck would have it, I didn't manage to catch the express.  The express usually travels the route from Gatwick to Victoria in a half hour.  The train I caught took over 90 minutes.  From Victoria I had to take the tube to Paddington.  The London transit authority uses the period between the winter holidays to do repairs on the tube system, which meant that the direct route to Paddington was unavailable and I had to change trains before arriving at my destination.

The upshot of all this is that I didn't get to Paddington until just before 5.  I rushed as quickly as I could through the tube area to the train station.  I scurried over to the statue, but saw no sign of Cindy.  I then decided to walk around the station, thinking she might have become tired of waiting and decided to explore the station.  I walked around the station but did not spy her.  I went back to the statue, but no one was there.  Then I thought I should go in to the shopping area across from the platforms, but no luck.  I walked in to a number of the shops and still didn't see her, so I headed back to the statue.  I had a quick moment of hope when I noticed people by the statue, but alas, it was a couple catching a bite to eat before boarding their train.   I approached them and asked if they had seen a dark-haired American woman, but they said 'no.'

I repeated these steps a number of times, and then went to the information desk to ask if they had heard from Cindy.  They also said 'no' so I did another circuit.  I called the Bed and Breakfast where we were staying to see if our hostess had heard from Cindy--she said 'no' as well.  By this time, it was about 6:15, so I decided to write a note to Cindy including directions on how to get to the B & B.  I had to remind myself of something my son had said to me when I expressed concern about making my various connections, to wit, "Cindy's an intelligent woman who can figure out things for herself."  Certainly, those are true words, but I felt a tremendous responsibility for her well-being.  Still, I made up my mind to leave the note and head to the B&B by 7:00 p.m.  I tried to leave the note at the information desk, but the information folks refused to accept it.  My anxiety was high, but I felt it was best for me to head to the B&B earlier, rather than later since I had never been there.

With a heavy heart, I took the tube to Hammersmith and then walked down toward the B&B.  My B&B contact person had sent me a map, so I felt I'd be able to find it without difficulty.  The map I had featured five upside-down 'U's which I interpreted to be houses.  After not seeing the street I was seeking, I asked two ladies out for an evening walk for directions.  They kindly walked me in the right direction, revealing that the upside-down 'U's were actually street blocks. 

I finally arrived at the B&B flat a little before 8.  My hostess was a lovely young woman named Cassie who was very sympathetic to my concerns.  She let me use her laptop to send Cindy a message.  I checked e-mail first and then went to Facebook.  There I saw that Cindy's flight had been delayed.  When she sent the message, she anticipated arriving at 8:00 p.m.  I responded with an update on my situation and gave her Cassie's cell phone number, and then I settled into the room.

The room was spacious and comfortable, featuring a king-sized bed, as well as a twin bed.  There was a television set along with quick and easy access to the bathroom.  Cassie asked when I wanted breakfast and headed back downstairs.   The flat is quite small.  Cassie has a room on the first level across from her galley-style kitchen and breakfast nook.  She has a fold-out bed which doubles as a couch.  She never uses the upstairs bedroom, as she reserves it for her guests.  The flat overlooks the Thames, which offered a lovely prospect.

It occurred to me as I looked out the window that I would be back in Duluth for the next full moon.

One of my favorite things about living in England were the crime TV shows on ITV 3.  It was a great night for it, so after my shower I was quite happy.

Sometime after 10, Cassie knocked at the door to say Cindy was on the phone.  The poor dear had experienced delays in Minneapolis.  The passengers were sent to New York to connect with another crew.  Once there the passengers were told they had to wait for a part, and were given pillows and blankets  so they could rest in the waiting area.  Finally, they took off for London and arrived 10 hours after their scheduled arrival.  I was so glad Cindy called.  Not only was I relieved she had finally made it to London, Cassie was able to give her a much more direct route to Hammersmith.  That meant she was able to get to Cassie's flat much faster than if she had gone to Paddington as we had originally planned.

Finally, Cindy was at the door to the room a little before midnight.

I was reminded of the old adage--"[wo]man plans, God laughs."