Up, Up, and Away!

Due to some exceptional planning on my part, I had a few errands to do in Toronto the day of my departure: pick up my passport, fax a copy home, get some shoes, pick up some medication, get some toothpaste, etc. Somehow, everything got done and I had enough time to go back to my Aunt Joy's house, where I was staying with my grandparents, to have a nap, to iron my white linen shirt, and to pick up a couple of roti on the way to the airport.

The 7-hour flight to London, Gatwick wasn't too bad; I managed to sleep a little, do some reading, and enjoy a complimentary hot vegetarian dinner around 1 am. I am so glad my connecting flight to Vienna was from Heathrow (about 1 hour away from Gatwick) since the shuttle service between the airports allowed me to catch a quick glimpse of the countryside and to meet a funny British bus driver. A few things I noticed during the ride that gave me my first burst of "we're not in Kansas anymore" type of excitement:
- the "truckers" we passed weren't at all like stereotypical Canadian ones: there were a lot of well-to-do looking young guys, one middle-aged man had his dashboard covered with teddy bears, one had dream-catchers dangling all over...
- during the entire drive, beautiful sheep-covered hills and old stone bridges lined the highway.

In Heathrow, I was disappointed to find that people could smoke in the restaurants, but the cheap internet service made up for it. There, I also confirmed my suspicion that well-pressed khakis and a linen dress shirt would be an asset to smooth travels. When I went to get my boarding pass to Vienna, I was told I couldn't have a one way ticket unless I could prove I had the financial ability to return home (even though I had a return ticked from Dusseldorf to Toronto booked). I gave the attendant that look that says: "Are you for real? Do you actually doubt this classy fellow doesn't have a mere $1000 in his bank account?" and everything was OK. In line, being surrounded by people speaking in so many languages with so many accents gave my excitement level another little boost.

A couple more hours of flying, and I was descending into Vienna. The view was magnificent: fields all over, sprinkled with windmills and lovely little villages here and there; winding rivers; some mountains, absolutely covered with dense forest; and the old, urban-sprawl-free city of Vienna. Before even arriving in the city, I realised I had grossly underestimated how different the perspectives here would be from North American ones.