I landed at Gatwick Airport in London after an uncharacteristically uneventful flight and realized that I probably should have created a better plan for making it to the dorm after twenty hours traveling.
The largest problem was that Gatwick is located about thirty miles from the center of London, and I didn't want to spend 160 dollars on a taxi to reach the city. (I hate the weak dollar.)
I went up to a friendly train ticket officer and told him that I needed to go to Paddington so I wanted to buy a ticket to Victoria. This exchange shouldn't have been difficult because we were both speaking English except I couldn't understand half of what he said. I did decipher: "Victoria is not possible"..."Go to Farringdon and change"...
I looked at the tickets and couldn't make sense of the zones that seemed more suited for a locker combination than a London map key. I just went to the platform he told me and jumped on the same train as everyone else with suitcases. Minding the gap is very difficult with a fifty pound suitcase, a thirty pound suitcase, and a computer bag.
Forty minutes into the ride, the next station was announced as Victoria. Very confused, I dragged my suitcases off the train and decided it would be best to take a taxi.
The taxis are huge! They also don't have trunks. My driver, whose abilities are probably more suitable for a Mad Max remake, zipped around the corners with no regard to the fact that my suitcases have very well performing wheels. I felt like I was in a London cab washing machine as I tried to balance both suitcases and keep them from knocking me unconscious.
Within moments after beginning the ride, we passed a Rolls Royce with an old lady in a goofy hat. Instantly I thought, "The queen!"
Of course, the cabby entered a round-about at that moment, and I was flattered against the window. On closer inspection the woman wasn't the queen. I think her majesty rides in a carriage anyway
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