Flashback: entry written on Dec 18th 2011, the day I left the US for vacation

Flying is magical...

At the time being I am in the plane to go to my final destination: Paris. I can feel in my body the weight of three weeks of poor-sleeping patterns as well as excitement. Yet I have gathered enough strength to write a bit about my journey, so far.

Me and a freshman acquaintance, of the (many) international students here.

The moment had finally arrived: it was Sunday December 18^th. After three months and a half, it was time to come back home for a well-deserved break.
The strange thing is that no matter how much I was looking forward to the moment I would eventually get to breathe, leaving Middlebury College was strange. It was definitely not home, but out of staying there for three months and a half, it starts feeling like one. Far away from my family and my roots, I have progressively built my own little niche. I stayed on campus, lived in a dorm, enjoyed the privacy of my own room, was constantly surrounded by students and got to get used to that radically different environment. As a consequence, it is no wonder I felt pretty uprooted now that I am leaving a familiar place to come back to one that I have grown estranged to. 

All my luggage (minus the one in the left)

Living at Middlebury College tends to make you feel very disconnected from the world. First, because of the location itself. Well, it's Middlebury. Vermont. If you have never heard of that state, do not be ashamed. I do not recall having heard of it beforehand. So it is rural, but you get to love it, because it is so peaceful and relaxing. The quality of life here is way better than in the city. Secondly, living on campus cuts you out even more from the world. So you end up living in your own bubble.

Very comfy transportation. We were five students and there was a lot of space. $30 and it lasted for an hour.

I think I am drifting away from my original purpose, so I will continue my story. Yesterday night I was finally done with my last exam, “Corporate Finance & Accounting” at 10pm. Since I was terribly busy with the preparation of my exams, I naturally had not started packing up yet. By the time I went to bed, I was mostly done with it. I did not fall asleep until 5am, which is curious because technically I should have been dead tired. I cautiously put three alarm clocks because I was to leave my dorm at 12.40pm!

I have never been a huge fan of packing up, to say the least. When you think about it, it is an easy guess for I am a messy person. So naturally, you'll think of me more as the one who enjoys unwrapping presents rather than preparing them. I had so many things to pack up, but about 90% of them were not mine – clothes, gifts, coats...The hardest step is to close the luggage. But like my mom says...”sit on it, it'll flat it all!”.

Max & me

At 12.55pm, Max came to my room to pick me up my stuff. It was very nice of him to offer his help, and it was not even the first time! He has already been a gentleman by carrying my huge pile of laundry to my room, located in the forth floor. We waited for our private mini-van, service provided by Middtransit. As there were five of us, the price was pretty reasonable and there was enough space. One hour later, we arrived at Burlington Airport. As usual, I was stressed out about one thing: the I-94. It is an important document for customs because this enables them to keep track of your arrival and departure. As I was to go to Philadelphia first before my final destination, I was therefore not sure who to give my I-94 to. The airline employee had absolutely not clue, and I suspect she did not even know what it was. I asked several employees later on and they told me that I was to give it to Philadelphia as it was my last port of exit. 

 

I think Max did not thoroughly check his boarding pass for he abruptly left me when I was heading towards the gates 1-6. Bummer. We waved bye bye to each other behind glass-windows. And here we go again, being alone. As much as I like travelling, I am always anxious when it comes to being on my own. But time went by quickly and I boarded the little plane. It left at 4pm, which was well-timed for this way I got to see an incredibly pleasant sunset. 

 

The plane left a bit late though, so I had better hurry up to catch my connecting flight, even though there was one hour left when I arrived in Philadelphia. After walking for a long time to go to terminal A, I quickly went to the duty free section, because taxes-free shopping is quite interesting, don't you think? I then dashed to my gate, where few people were boarding, which means that the gates have been opened for a while. The airline employee patiently replied to my questions about the I94, and bingo, I was to give it to him. Hurray! I was all set. 

My travelling companion...

I then continued my way to the A-330 plane, which is twice as big as the previous one. No sooner had I boarded than I noticed the French atmosphere. Stern, grim-faced people. The woman that was next to my seat (but who eventually got to sit elsewhere, phew) looked at me in an uncomfortable, quite negative way. Odd. 

 

After we took off, we had dinner. I was not picky this time and wolfed it down instead because it was 7.30pm and my last meal was seven hours before. Each passenger was equipped with a personal TV, but I was disappointed by the lack of choices. Perhaps I have had high expectations even since I have traveled with Air New Zealand because everything was pleasant, most importantly the food and the entertainment. On my current flight there are movies and TV series. I eventually got to discover Larry of the Hill (or something, can't remember) and How I met your mother. I already knew the latter because my brother enjoys watching it. I found myself laughing throughout the episode, so that was a nice surprise. I understood 100% of what was being said, which comforts me because I have definitely improved my listening skills, on top of my oral and writing ones. As I enjoy being in a complete American-speaking environment, I have to say that having to speak French again most of the time is one of the cons of coming back.