The 75th Hour

Waking up fully rested to the sound of a morning thunderstorm is probably one of the nicest feelings you can have. "But wait," you say. "There is no thunderstorm here; just lots and lots of snow!" Well that, my friend, all depends on where "here" is. For me "here" is not there (where ever there might be for you). "Here" is here where I am. And that happens to be in an apartment. In Izmir. In Turkey. On the other side of the world. (Just for clarification.) And so I can say truthfully that I did rise this morning with thunderous applause.

"But wait!" you say to me (once again). "How in the world did you get to where you are in the world?! (And why did you not take me?)" To answer second things first: sadly three weeks worth of clothing left no room for stowaways in my baggage. To answer first things second: let me return to roughly 70 hours ago.

Monday night:
11:30 PM
I finally started packing for Turkey. It took quite a bit longer than anticipated, as I spent about an hour and a half on figuring out my music selection alone. (However, packing my clothes only took about 20 minutes. Yes, I have strange travel priorities.) And so at the wee hour of two in the morning I finally hit the bed (after a short debate with myself on whether or not to even go to sleep at all that night).

Tuesday morning:
6:15 AM
I somehow dragged myself out of bed (it had to be a miracle sent by God). I promptly wanted to get back into bed. I resisted (again, only through God's miraculous work).
7:15 AM
My mom (who drove me to the airport) and I were off. I finally started to wake up slightly, and the true excitement of an adventure beginning decided to come along for the ride. After a long drive (worrying about making it to the airport on time) we arrived with plenty of time. And so I kissed my mother dear farewell and headed off into the wild blue yonder!
2:00 PM
The flight to Dallas was uneventful. I slept a bit. Enough said.
3:30 PM
I headed off to Frankfurt. This flight was a huge score in one way. They had in-seat tv monitors, complete with a variety of semi-entertaining games, and a huge collection (for an airplane) of movies and television shows. I ended up watching three different movies in a row (and would have watched more, but didn't have time), all of which were quite good (Cloudy with a Chance of Meatballs; Night at the Museum 2; and The Boys are Back). However, in another way the Frankfurt flight was a huge bust. Because of the wonders of the glowing screen in front of me, sleep escaped from my clutches entirely. And also, there was an almost literal bust at the end. I've always had a bit of trouble with pressure change hurting my ears on the descents. But landing in Frankfurt gave me a new definition of pain. This particular pressure change phenomenon was not content with destroying my ear drums, but insisted on bringing my eye along to the party. I actually felt as if a blood vessel had burst. Combine that with the fact that this pain started almost half an hour before we landed, and I had never been more happy to get off of a plane before!

Wednesday morning:
5:40 AM
I finally left Frankfurt, and was certainly glad to do so. I spent the entire four hour layover wandering around the airport waiting for my gate number to be revealed. It wasn't until half an hour before the scheduled take off time that it was finally posted.
10:00 AM
I somehow survived getting to Istanbul (the pressure was almost as bad as Frankfurt; helped slightly by my memory of my ibuprofen stash) and was getting on the final plane of the trip! (p.s. Turkish Airlines should get with it! I (once again) did not find out which gate I was boarding at until right before we boarded. Also, back in Frankfurt, they didn't open their check-in counter until almost ten in the morning local time!)
12:00 PM
No more flying!!!! After getting off what had to be one of the shortest plane rides I've been on (about 45 minutes in the air), I had another long wait before I could make a proper exit. Somehow they "misdirected" my and four other people's luggage to the wrong part of the airport. So after we stood around aimlessly looking at the empty conveyor belt with sad, puppy eyes for a long enough time (close to half an hour), they bussed us over to the completely other side of airport and there we found our long lost friends: Baggage&Co. (for some reason in the international terminal, instead of where we arrived in domestic). It was here that Aunt Sandy rescued me from my nearly 30 hours of floating through the world. And after meeting up with Uncle Alan (who had the car at the domestic terminal as they never know for sure which one travelers will end up at, such is the consistent inconsistency of the Izmir Airport) we finally headed home.
12:30 PM
We made it home without any other events and I was finally able to not worry about the next place I had to get to. The Whites live in a fairly nice (on the inside anyway) apartment complex (as do almost all people in Izmir). It was a very comforting view after such a long time in wide open airports and cramped planes.
5:45 PM
After much socializing with the family and a wonderful dinner (at which I discovered the second weirdest drink I've ever tasted) my cousin Isaac and I stayed up playing games on our respective computers and generally enjoying each others' company until we managed to pull ourselves away to bed. Then, snuggled comfortably under my covers, I was out before the lights. (They have an interesting incandescent glow for a little while after being turned off.)


And that brings me back to the thunderstorms of this morning with which I began this blog (quarter 'til eight local time/12:45 AM in VA). From then I have had a spectacular breakfast, more great socializing with Isaac and Aunt Sandy (Uncle Alan had already left for the office), checked the good old Book of Face (I always feel out of civilization after multiple days of not checking), and have spent a relaxing morning doing very little. But now that morning is over (it's after twelve here) I believe it might be time to get the RTA (Real Turkish Adventure) started! Isaac and I are leaving soon to go pick up lunch and go bowling. Then I have no clue what happens. But that's part of what makes and adventure so exciting! So until I find myself typing away to you next, fare ye well!

-Nic


New Words:
Sut: Water
Ayran: The second weirdest drink I've tasted (pretty much liquid yogurt that is sour and salty instead of sweet and fruity)