I definitely don't want to sound like I'm whining, because I know how lucky we are to get to live abroad for a while. And I'm well aware that all of this is the result of our own choices, well thought out or otherwise. But I would like to document the relocation of two hopeful but tired people and two spastic but tired kids from one continent to another. Mostly so that I can remind T-man and A-face what a pain they can be and how much they put us through around the time that they are choosing between sending us off to the shoddy rest-home that smells like cigarettes and death or allowing us to use up their inheritance at the stately "retirement community" with it's pleasant earth´tones and bowl of fruit by the entry. So in that light, let's get started.
LEG 1: To Canada we go!
The first leg of the journey was to Ann Arbor, where we stayed with our gracious friends Lisa and Scott. Lisa is German and Scott's lived there too, so it was VERY helpful to play 1000 questions (a more drawn out version of 20 questions) with them about topics such as health insurance, car insurance, taxes, general etiquette, vocabulary, and how to circumvent the sharp elbows of old ladies at the checkout lines of the grocery stores. Our kids loved hanging out with Emma, and I gradumatated. What's more, we were there for the last sunday of our student ward, before it was to be assimalated into the family ward collective. And, as a minor side note to me but a life altering Chapter Title to my children, we visited the fire station. They will never be the same again.
So amid all of this, my parents flew in. After our stay with Lisa and Scott, we stayed at my parents hotel in Canton. They got to share in all of the gut-wrenching pre-trip anxiety. We took a final trip to the Hands on Museum, Ford Museum, and Greenfield village. I think KT left a little piece of her soul there, seeing that she had spent much of motherhood chasing her children down the halls of these informative locations. At night we frantically tried to whittle down our luggage, which never seemed to really fit in our suitcases nor under the allowed weight limit. It was actually really sad to have to leave these things in the final hours, sort of like the final cuts on American Idol (not that I watch it, but I can imagine). My mom kept telling us "You've just got to take that!" She couldn't imagin life without item A or B, but we left it anyway. I kept reassuring her that the civilized nature of Germany would allow us to easily buy another one.
So the day came and we loaded up our good ol Subaru, and we headed off for Windsor, just across the river from Detroit into Canada. When we pulled up to the station, it was in a pretty shady part of town, and again I wondered if we really knew what we were doing. We unloaded all of our stuff (shown below for your sympathy/amusement) and said goodbye to my parents. Having lived halfway across America from my family for the past 5 years, I didn'tthink this would be a big deal emotionally, but it was like leaving for my mission all over again.
So we dragged all of our stuff onto the train heading toward Toronto. Since the train station in Windsor was so ghetto, we were overjoyed to find that the train did not reflect the state of the station! They gave our kids little kid packs with these cool paper train sets, and even helped us load in our stuff. Internet on the train was fabulous, and it allowed us to keep family up to date with our current status, seeing as we had gotten rid of our phone the night before.
It took about 4 hours to get to Toronto, where we had to get to a shuttle to take us the 50 minute stretch to the airport. The train guy called over a private porter to help us with our stuff, and he stumbled away stunned when my wife refused his costly service and assured him of my pack horse-like nature. This was one of the crazier exchanges, because we had to navigate around the city a little through construction zones and the like to find the place where the shuttle picked us up. By the time we got to the airport, we were quite accustomed to the spectacle we caused everywhere we went, and unsolicited advice to just take a cab.
But we got there, and so ended the 8th hour of our journey on the road with no car and a small apartment's worth of belongings.
If you're bored already, I just want you to know that things really start getting exciting. We were checking our perfectly-weighed luggage in, when the lady helping us asked me to put the carry on in the little wire frame that shows you how big your carry on should be. Now in these days of extra fees for check-in luggage, I don't know if I've ever seen anybody's carry-on fit in that little frame thing. As might be expected, ours didn't either (it was an I-told-you-so moment for me, but the joy of victory was soon overshadowed by the potential consequences of failing the carry-on test).
So, what do you do when you are in the Toronto airport, with all of your belongings stuffed into bags that are deemed too large for the airplane? Many would just pay the $100 fee per carry-on bag, but we are way too stingy to blow a hard-earned franklin for a small carry-on bag. Our check-in luggage was based on weight, and we still had a few pounds to spare, so we rediculously stuffed all of the contents of the carry-on into shopping bags, stroller pouches, diaper bags, laptop cases, etc and checked in the empty carry-on bags. Oh, and all of this was done while hogging up the front of the check-in line of a crowded airport. So after half of the out-going travellors had a more than ample glimpse of our underwear, we walked out of that line looking like some frantic family who emptied their drawers into plastic bags as their house was burning down and carried them all out at once. It was getting pretty late (11 pm flight) and they were on the brink of bonkers, but a little mickey mouse club was just the thing to calm them down.
Leg 2: Europe
So we couldn't get 2 sets of 2 seats together (or so KT told me) so we opted for me taking the kids in our own row and KT relaxing behind us. It actually went fairly well, although the kids required enough attention to keep me from sleeping much. Who needs sleep anyway? The important part though was that KT and the kids were well rested. If that's the case, life is good.
So the story isn't all that exciting from here on out. You can see a pic of me in my fully-loaded state, with 3 wheeled pieces of luggage on each hand and my huge backpack. Katie meanwhile had the stroller fully-loaded, so that whenever the kids got out of the stroller it tipped because of a weight-imbalance. We had to navigate a bit to the shuttle, which took us to the train station. I was a little worried that my poor missionary luggage was going to crack under the stress or that a wheel would pop off leaving us stranded, but the mobility gods were apparently well-pleased.
After that, our train to Düsseldorf got cancelled, but we went to Cologne, changed trains, and went to Aachen. There we had to change trains again, to go one stop further to Aachen Schanz. Our friend Sara graciously and mercifully met us at the station, and we crashed the night at her place. What this means in tired, time-zone-confused kid language is that we slept for 4 hours, then stayed awake the rest of the night. Keeping in line with American Hostess Protocol, Sara lied to us and told us that she didn't even hear us wrestling at 3 in themorning. The next morning, we threw our stuff in a Taxi-Van and headed off to the new house. KT and the kids had to take a bus because they didn't fit, but we all arrived eventually. It is in the light of this trip that one should read the next post about building the kitchen.
1 comment:
I cannot even imagine! What an adventure. Way to go! That luggage picture is priceless. I will never feel heavy laden at an airport again.
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