Departure

The day had arrived.  The start of our two week adventure to Europe.  We got up early, considering that we were on vacation, to prepare to catch a 10 AM bus from Madison to O’Hare. After several nights of frantic packing and planning we still felt unprepared, in spite of Ethan’s binders full of flight plans, tickets, maps, and many other necessities (he really is quite the organized planner).  Our flight was scheduled to depart from O’Hare airport at 4 PM.  We had a 10 AM bus ride lined up to take us from Madison to O’Hare (I had phoned ahead 48 hours in advance to make sure the bus had the lift and accessibility accommodations ready to go).

I had called for a cab to take us to the bus stop on campus, though the distance would normally be easily walked, but with all of the luggage and my old chair, the Tank, ready to roll down the streets of London once more, were much more easily handled via a short cab ride.  Having arrived at the bus stop early, Ethan and I decided to grab some coffee at the cafe across the street.  As we sat sipping our steaming beverages, I asked Ethan how much time until the bus arrived.  It was at that point that we both realized that we had no way of telling the time.  We had decided to leave our phones behind, as they would be of little use abroad, and neither of us had a watch.  Frantically Ethan dashed to the adjacent Walgreen’s to find a cheap, but usable, watch.  This sort of omission often leaves you wondering what else you may have forgotten, but upon checking we had the essentials: passports, tickets, wheelchair charger, etc.

The bus ride was rather uneventful.  The Illinois countryside rolled by as we rode into the outskirts of Chicago.  We arrived at the airport around 1 PM, and patiently waited for our flight, wandering around the airport some until closer to 3.  We decided to have lunch at a Chicago style Hot Dog restaurant.  Of course, I wound up making a mess of my shirt (when you can barely lift the dog to your mouth, let alone even open your mouth that wide, eating becomes a bit of a chore).  Why is it that the tastiest things are the most messy?

The flight loading started a bit behind schedule (which is common for international flights at O’Hare).  The airline staff assured us that we’d make up the time mid flight and would arrive in London on time (I’ve always wondered how that works out).  I was the first to be seated on the plane.  Ethan and the staff lifted me into a tiny wheelchair designed to just barely fit down the aisles, and rolled me to the assigned seat.  As a side note, I had picked seats at the front of coach, to give Ethan, who is 6′ 3″, plenty of leg room, as well as room to maneuver around while helping me.

The flight went smoothly.  I had asked the flight staff for multiple pillows to sit on, as anything short of my thick wheelchair cushion becomes painful after an hour, and this was going to be an 8 hour flight.  Even so, Ethan had to keep helping me re-position every hour or so.

We arrived in London around 6 AM London time, and had a cab waiting to take us to the hotel.  We were staying at the Radison Blu Portman, near the Kensington Palace Gardens.  It was a nice hotel and a great scenic location.  For a fun bit of trivia, Kensington Palace was the royal palace and residence of the British royal family prior to the construction of Buckingham Palace, and is still used on occasion by the royal family.

Upon checking in and unpacking we came to a rather unpleasant surprise.  The international outlet converters we had brought along didn’t fit the three prong plug of my wheelchair charger.