To start a story with the middle is generally considered a bad idea and not something that most English teachers would enforce. But, when you realise that you need a new U.S. visa 3 days before jetting out to California, it could also be considered a strong start.
It wasn't the end of the world; we'd been through the process before i.e. in May, about 5 months previous to the realisation, back when we'd visited Matt's parents in their new home.
Matt, being my lovely husband, is the prime culprit of this panic-inducing fiasco down in London (visiting my parents before flights from Heathrow) as he'd happened to propose when we were in New Zealand last February.
This all meant that we figured we'd get married between February and August - before we could apply for our Working Holiday Visas out in New Zealand - and do it all as a married couple, me with a new name.
A new name... that's where the realisation came from. I'd used my maiden name last time we'd flown out (we'd only been engaged a few months by that point - hadn't even really started planning, but that's another story) and my old visa would have been linked to an old passport.
Either way, it wasn't the end of the world, meaning that I actually got my visa sorted and ready for the U.S. within about 4 hours (and after the stress of all the stupidly worded questions that could actually land you in serious trouble!).
These 4 hours, among the many others, were spent at my parent's house - my childhood home - for the proposed 7 days before we flew to America. The week itself was as stress-free as we could have hoped after the disaster getting down there in the first place (the Unexpected Journey itself!) and it was a great way to get into the travelling spirit.
There might, however, have been just a little too much of this travelling spirit within the first day.
That fine Friday was one of the longest times spent travelling as little distance as we did. Aiming for London, we made it as far as the centre of Sheffield.
We'd woken up at around 7am, cleaning and shutting down the lovely little house on the hill in Yorkshire until 11am. Our taxi arrived, and in hindsight, we really should have turned back when the taxi driver was forced into the middle of the road to avoid deep puddles of water on either side.
Nevertheless, we pursued our travel plans, making it to Ilkley train station with just enough time to hop comfortably on to Leeds. In the moment, we were rather pleased with ourselves, having done enough over the past few days to finally feel settled in the fact that we wouldn't be returning any time soon. Strangely enough, that was okay.
It was at Leeds station that it quickly became not okay.
Previous trains down to London had been delayed and delayed, with the announcement finally coming out that there was water on the tracks between crucial stations down the east side of the UK. While we were told to wait on the concourse and board the next train down, it became very apparent that that would not be the case, and we instead opted to have a drink in the station's faithful 'Spoons and think over our next steps.
Within the hour, we'd found a train barely heading to Nottingham where we could change for a different route down to King's Cross. I say 'barely' as there was obviously quite a debate between the train driver and the station staff on the platform as to whether the train would actually be running or not.
Despite this, we were piled on like sardines, leading to quite a few good chats and friendly advice to those around us on their own next moves (generally significantly less distance than ours).
After the first stop, a message came over the tannoy that warned us about the upcoming 5mph speed limit through standing water. After the 5mph speed limit warning, we were told that the train would be terminated at Sheffield. All the sardines were kicked off the train.
Most people went to the nearest information desk, but the line was quickly cleared as I think most people decided to either stick in Sheffield or attempt to head back up North.
I called my dad. I let him know that we couldn't make it any further at that point, despite our best efforts. All trains were cancelled from Sheffield station.
Meanwhile, Matt managed to book a cheap hotel in the centre of Sheffield and we had checked in within the hour.
That evening, we dined in 'Spoons and watched the Rugby World Cup (the embarrassing game between New Zealand and Argentina where the final score was 44-6 - sorry, Argentina!) before collapsing into bed.
The next day I had about 5 minutes of awake time before my mum called, planning a rescue mission from the start. Within 30 minutes, it was planned that we'd get to the nearest service station on the M1 - Woodall services.
After breakfast finished at the hotel at 10am (not very good, but it was free), we made our way to the service station, happy to wait and hold out with coffee and hot chocolate. By 2pm, we had been met, fed, and watered (or Pumpkin Spiced Latted, in my brother's case - very Halloween), and by 3pm we were well on our way down to London.
The weather was still atrocious, and there were some right idiots on the M1 and M25 as we made our way down: driving without lights, cutting across multiple lanes to make an exit, and playing the Hobbit's theme at full volume (it's all in preparation - I swear!).
I can't remember exactly what time we got home - time was all an illusion by this point - but we were met by the dog of the week: Kerby, who I'm sure we'll write and show way more of in the future.
So despite the disaster of the first day, and the midweek realisation that I may be tackled by border control the moment I stepped off the plane in California, the remainder of the week was incredibly relaxing and I can't thank my lovely family enough for making it so hospitable and enjoyable! (And thank you, Kerby, for showing us all your tricks and ability to be a lap dog at 37+kg).
That's one week rounded up, and I think we're both hoping that the remainder of our travels around New Zealand will balance out the rest of it (and even if it doesn't, it doesn't really matter - we could handle it).
- Abi
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