So much has happened in the last four days!  It's hard to believe that I'm actually here in Banbury, UK.  But here I am.  What's also difficult to believe is that I made it in one piece, considering all the luggage....challenges....that I encountered on the journey to get here.

Firstly, at the Vancouver Airport, I had to lighten my two big suitcases, as they were over even the extra weight allowance.  And who doesn't like to open their luggage in the middle of a crowded airport?  Lots of joy.  However, it was managed.  Unfortunately one of the things I took out to have my folks send me later was....soap.  Oh well.  There is soap in England.

Next part of the journey was getting on the plane.  No wait, the next part of the journey was getting to the gate at YVR.  Perhaps I didn't mention that I was laiden with LARGE purse, laptop bag fully crammed with everything it would fit (I think my housecoat was in there), heavy camera bag (which also contained my ball caps - seriously, I used every nook and cranny when packing), and my violin, which also had multiple pounds of sheet music in the top of it.  Are you getting a mental picture yet?  If it makes you laugh, it's probably pretty close.

I was praising God possibly audibly when I finally turned the corner towards the D gates and realized that I was departing from the first one.  AND that there was a Tim Horton's just across from it.  Hallelujah.

Then, the plane.  On I hiked all my gear again, feeling more like a pack mule than I think I have ever felt before, and went down the walkway to the plane.

Then, uh-oh.  I went to walk down the aisle of the plane to get to row 25 and my seat when all of a sudden I jerked back.  I'm stuck.  I'm too wide!!  Argh!!  Not willing to give up (I'd already invested so much energy in getting to my seat I wasn't to be daunted), I forced my stuff through the seats, where it hit me in the back, propelling me to the next row of seats, where I got stuck, and where I forced my stuff through, and on and on to row 25.  I did at least offer a great deal of entertainment to my fellow passengers.  Small comfort. 

Now for the plane ride.  Truly, all was well.  I had a friendly gentleman sitting beside me on his way to his niece's wedding in London.  Great.  No drama there.

But then I arrived in London.  Back goes the gear onto my shoulders.  Back through the rows - pull, bump, pull, bump.  Finally the lady behind me, obviously taking pity on a truly demented individual, turned my laptop bag so that I at least wasn't getting stuck at each row.  Heaven!  I asked her what she was doing for the rest of the day, but she didn't seem to think that following me around with all my stuff sounded like too much fun.  Oh well.  Out of the plane and towards Customs.

My good fortune to have the first departure gate at YVR didn't hold for Gatwick.  I think I trudged about 17 miles with all my gear.  OK, perhaps not that far, but it certainly felt like it.  By then I was thoroughly sweating - for the third time that day, mind you (shoot - I have no soap) - and had to stop frequently to shift which bags are on which shoulders and to rest.  I got lapped by everyone in the plane, included those in row 45, and started to wonder if I was seeing people go by for a second time.  That might have been just delirium. I did decide that I would hijack a wheelchair, a service trolley or even a golf cart if it meant I had help to get to....wherever on earth Customs ended up being.  Bad news on that front: they were all chained up.  (Someone must have warned them that this crazy chick with way too much carry-on was coming - slowly - down the hall.)

At about the fourth stop to rest, I truly began to wonder if I was going to make it.  I very nearly started to cry from physical pain and emotional exhaustion.  I felt like I just couldn't do it, and wondered if Xander and Vanessa would simply assume that I didn't get on the plane in Vancouver or whether they would think to send someone in to find the weeping pile that used to be Karyn Baker.  In that moment, I asked God to help me.  I didn't even know what that would look like, but I needed help.

Immediately two women (who were behind my pull-bump-pull-bump maneuver getting on the plane), came up behind me, and jokingly said, "Hey, there she is again!"  And then I guess they realized that I was stopped for a reason and asked if they could help.  Those two beautiful women helped carry my stuff to Customs and all the way through the 2-hour lineup.  They were such an answer to my desperate prayer.  Then we went through Customs separately, of course (total breeze with my visa), but they found me on the other side and again grabbed some stuff.  Then when we got to baggage claim they routed around in their purses and found a pound coin to get me a luggage cart and make sure I was going to be OK, since I had forgotten to put my UK coins in my purse.  That's when they left me.  I have never been so glad to hug total strangers in my life (I don't think - it's probably not the first time I've done that).

So, I found my luggage (which was all sitting off to the side, our plane having arrived 2.5 hours before that), and shockingly, I managed to get two large suitcases, a carry-on suitcase, my violin, my laptop, and my camera bag onto the one cart.  Oh, did I mentioned that one of my [large] suitcase zippers was partially open?  So, for the second time in one trip I shoved clothes further back into a suitcase and closed it up.  Thankfully, it doesn't look like anything actually fell out or that the zipper was permanently broken.  But still, Airports - 2, Bakes - 0.  So then I attempted to wheel a very full luggage cart with one hand, have my large purse on one shoulder and carry my guitar in the other.  Actually, I was doing OK, but stopped to try and get the guitar hoisted on the top of the whole thing as well - since I nearly killed a person or two in my wanderings - and some random lady came up to me and asked if I needed help.  Without waiting for a response, she wisely grabbed the luggage cart from me and wheeled it straight to where Xander and Vanessa were waiting for me.  Again, I happily hugged a total stranger.

I actually think all three women might have been angels, especially that last one.  At the very least, they were huge answers to prayers cried out in desperation.  I found out later that my mom, being worried about my having so much stuff to manage, was praying that people would help me.  Thanks, Mom.  Prayers answered. 

Oh yes, I probably should have mentioned that at lunch with Xander and Vanessa (at the airport), I mistakenly thought I heard the waitress say that I should use more soap.  Then Xander thought I might want to wash my face and Vanessa later suggested I have a bath.

Needless to say, I have since bought some soap.