The beginning.

Recently, I was accepted to the Aberystwyth University (formerly the University of Wales - Aberystwyth). After some issues with entry visas and funding, and a brief deferment, I was finally set and ready to go. Beside being academically challenging, this was going to be an experience that I have been looking forward to since I briefly visited London and other European cities in high school as an Illinois Ambassador of Music. On that trip, I told myself that I would live abroad for a time, and here I am.

But, before the adventure could start, I needed to get to Aberystwyth - a feat not altogether easy. Because this was not just a small vacation, or even a large vacation, packing for this trip was an exercise in minimalism: I combed through my clothes making decisions on what was immediately necessary, and what I could do without. It was not simply a question of how many sleeping pants I would need, but a more inherently philosophical question: do I need sleeping pants? T-shirts that could be worn either as just a t-shirt of under a sweater became quite invaluable. The rest of what I thought I needed, I packed in boxes to be sent here by freight, but these would not arrive for close to two months (along with my books). So I crammed my suitcases as full as I physically could.

My mom drove me to the airport at 12:00 pm, Monday January 11th. The flight would not take off for another two hours, but with recent security problems and foiled terrorist attacks, I left with enough time to clear the several security gates separating me from the plane. This was invaluable time, as I used almost every second to get from the entrance to the plane.

A word of warning to those traveling: a one-way ticket to a foreign country raises eye-brows. A lot of eyebrows. It started at ticket counter where I needed to pick up my boarding pass. At first I got in the international flight line, but that was only for people who had electronically purchased round trip tickets to international destinations. Once at the kiosk I was sent to a different line where I was grilled by the woman at the counter:
"Where are you going?"
"Frankfurt."
"When are you coming back?"
"I don't know."
"You don't know?"
"No. I am going to school, and I might be there some time before I can come back."
"You are coming back?"
"I think so, but not for some time."
"So, you are just going to Frankfurt?"
"Well, initially. Then to London."
"When are you coming back from London?"
...
And so on.

I raise eyebrows a lot when I travel. I guess I look suspicious, or maybe all single men are pulled aside, and have their luggage opened as a large man none-to-gently rubs him down. This happened at every security check-point. The first one was pretty standard. The woman wanded me, and sent me through. At the gate, I was "randomly" checked again. This time, the man gruffly asked me to step out of line while he could conduct his search. Two other people went through my carry-on and a third held my ticket and passport. The man rubbed me down, literally wrapping his huge hands around my arms and rubbing from the shoulder to the wrist. He tried to act as cordially as possible, but it's hard to carry on a decent conversation with someone who is violating your personal space.
"Where you going?"
"Frankfurt."
"Oh. It's nice there. Can you turn and spread your legs?"

After that rough treatment, we boarded the plane. The excitement continued there, but that will be a story for next time.