Cymru

In my last post, I mentioned the waves of nostalgia that wash over me this time of year. When I noticed the date today, I realized that it was on this day nine years ago I arrived in Heathrow Airport for the first time. The memory of the trip over itself is a blur. I vaguely recall leaving behind a hot Texas summer, a short layover at O'Hare, and a long flight where sleep proved evasive. All around, I heard variations of the English accent I had so much loved, and that alone was enough to make me smile. However, it took me asking the passport control agent three times to repeat herself before I could answer her questions (her accent was quite thick, and my head was a bit fuzzy from the lack of sleep). Still, once that little hiccup was resolved, I collected my two suitcases (I would argue that since then, I have managed to fit all my necessary possessions in two suitcases or less), and I spilled out into the arrivals area. (I'll try to keep my asides to a minimum, but I have to say watching the opening scene of Love Actually always reminds me of my second trip to Heathrow, when I wasn't emerging a complete stranger actually had a couple of friends there to greet me. I'll save the harrowing trip I took to get to Wales for the spring semester, but all the struggles, worries, and frustrations were immediately erased by smiling, familiar faces.)

Back to the initial arrival: Since everyone was arriving at different times throughout the morning, the bus that was to take me and my fellow study abroad students to Wales wasn't scheduled to leave until 12:00. It was only a little after 6:00 when I arrived. Having two large suitcases made exploration a bit tricky (I was on my own at this point, so no one to watch my bags), and I was little more than concerned about how easy it would be to find the others.  The novelty of being in England was waning, and I was beginning to feel overwhelmed. I needn't have worried, as a couple hours later, I saw a familiar red object in the air. It was the folder each student had been mailed weeks earlier in preparation for their time abroad. Even more surprising, the folder was in the hands of an acquaintance from my home institution (Greg, who I had met a few times through campus ministry and through my friend Matt...Greg played quite an interesting role in a surprise birthday party now that I think about it. I forgave him that, though...). I quickly moved toward him, relieved to see a familiar face. Soon, there were lots of us, exchanging life histories, travel plans, and the like. I didn't know at the time how much an impact these people would have on my life, but the newness of it all renewed my enthusiasm, and I couldn't wait to get out of the airport and explore.

My fellow travelers, St. Govan's Head

Still, there was a three plus hour bus ride west to take us to Carmarthen (Caerfyrddin in Welsh, which translastes to 'fort of Merlin'), and we had yet to meet the man who would become our intrepid leader on so many adventures. Indeed, we would have to wait longer, as it was his trusty sidekick, Mike, who met us at the airport and directed us to our coach. Our bus driver (whose name alludes me at the moment, which aggravates me!) was a bit gruff, and I admit, if I thought the accents I encountered at passport control were difficult to comprehend, I hadn't been prepared to deal with the Welsh accent. Still, we were able to load up and get on the road in no time at all.  

My eyes remained glued to the window for much of the journey to the place I would call home for the next few months (I had come to Wales intending only to stay for the fall semester), marveling at the lush greenery, rolling hills, and how everything was just so British. I will admit that when I had signed up for my semester in Wales, it wasn't my first choice of country, but it was by far the best deal. I first saw it as an entry point to explore England and Ireland and the rest of Europe. Little did I know then how deeply it would permeate into my soul.

Most everyone else quickly fell asleep, letting the exhaustion from hours of travel to overcome them, but I couldn't sleep if I tried. In a bout of inquisitiveness not usually of my nature, I asked Mike all of the questions that came to mind, probably trying his patience more than was fair of me to do. Still, I wanted to know as much as I could about what I was seeing, where I was going, and anything else I could learn. (I had already read all of the recommended reading, so I wasn't completely ignorant, but as Mike was an American who had done the same program years earlier and was living in Wales while getting his masters, I figured he would have a lot more insight that one could not glean from a book). As I watched the scenery pass before my eyes, I could not wipe the smile off my face, not knowing how to if I tried. I was making a dream come true, and the elation I felt could not be dimmed for anything.

We finally arrived on campus after having picked up the few students (one of whom, Ginny, was celebrating her birthday, so a shout out to her today) who had opted to do a home stay. The campus was small, even smaller than TLU. It was a good mile away from the town center, on top of a hill (this would make for many a long trek back when coming back from the grocery store or getting caught in the rain). We were given keys to our rooms, told to take some time to unpack and explore, and then given the option to have a welcome drink at one of the many pubs in town, Dri Eog (Three Salmon). There isn't much more to say. I enjoyed the evening, getting to know the others while nursing a Diet Coke (while only 20 at the time, the legal age is 18, but I still felt a little weird about the whole alcohol thing...). I vaguely recall wondering how we managed to get back to the college without getting lost on the winding streets (not the last time I would find myself wondering this, either), and I couldn't recall having ever felt so tired (I was running on about two hours of sleep for a forty-eight hour period, which leads to a little haziness even in the best of us, I think). But I was in Wales, and I would never be the same.