So the plane had touched down safely in London and I wobbled to baggage reclaim to pick up my suitcase. Customs and passport control was easy enough as I just had to show them that I carry a British Passport and all the barriers seem to magically lift, this makes a nice change from Australian and South African customs where I always feel like I’m about one shifty look away from a full pat-down and cavity search.

I strolled out of the terminal feeling rather proud of myself for managing to stay awake for the entire flight, something I would later come to regret. Anyway despite having lived in the UK for as long as I had I still felt like I was in unfamiliar territory and so the smartest course of action seemed to be asking the information desk for the easiest way to get to Burgess Hill. There are few times when I’ve really felt like I’ve made a mistake I will regret for a long time, the first was when I thought it would be totally cool to cut my own hair, the second was when I thought I would be a smart-ass and argue with a particularly un-hinged teacher and the third would have to be when I took the advice of the person behind the information desk.

The route they suggested involved taking the train to London Paddington station before transferring to the tube and making my way, via a very strange and change-filled journey, to London Victoria. Bear in mind that it was 6 in the morning and I had a large suitcase with me so this hardly seemed like an ideal situation but my sleep deprived brain couldn’t really come up with a better alternative so I shelled out the twenty pounds and shambled onto the train.

By now I hadn’t slept for more than twenty four hours and the strain was beginning to make itself felt but I still felt a bit of excitement as I was off on an adventure that would see me brave the dark world of the underground and make my way to Burgess Hill. On the train to London Paddington I did nearly pass out a few times but a very kind lady promised to wake me up if she thought I looked in danger of succumbing to a catatonic state. I also sought assurances from a ticket inspector to make sure I was heading the right way he assured me that I was on the right path and that getting through the London train stations would be easy even with luggage as they provide trolleys. It sounded almost too good to be true and I would learn upon arrival in Paddington why that was.

There were no trolleys and it really wasn’t easy getting around with a big suitcase. I learned from a rather upset gentleman that I was interrupting the flow of traffic during rush hour and that I would make a lot of people late for work. If that’s true and any of them are reading this I really would just like to take the chance to say that it was the information desk at Heathrow Airport’s fault.

My fear of the underground and my reasons why shall be discussed in a future post but I can only imagine how I appeared to the London Commuters on that cold Tuesday morning, an exhausted and shivering travel-worn guy looking around in a wild panic every time the train stopped for no real explainable reason. Obviously, from this post, I eventually made it to my grand-parents. I won’t say I wasn’t changed by my experience or that I didn’t learn anything. In fact upon arriving at my grand-parents house and regaling them with the stories of my morning adventures my grandpa turned to me and said “Why didn’t you just take the shuttle from Heathrow to Gatwick and catch a direct train to Burgess Hill? It’s only 2 stops”. I paused and silently cursed the information desk at Heathrow.

More to come including my adventures in London!

Happy New Year everyone!