Mon Petit Vulcan

(10 points if you caught the Bjork reference.) I should be in London right now. Instead, I'm in a swanky hotel in Dusseldorf, Germany. Apparently, as I was choking down a cold and stale ham and cheese croissant on the plane, a volcano in Iceland decided to erupt and spew it's ash into the UK's air-space, grounding all flights in and out of England. I call it the Sonju curse of travel. Last year, during a vacation to Kentucky and Montana, I somehow got stranded in Las Vegas with only a gift shop t-shirt, and a $7 toothbrush. I was the only girl walking around the casino with a liter of water, and not a dollar to play the slots.

Familiar scene: Sonju's lost in some foreign land, doesn't know anyone, and is already starting to get a bad feeling about this whole trip. I miraculously found my way to the service desk in the airport and asked if maybe I could be re-routed straight to Paris. Instead, they gave me a seat on the next available flight, AND were willing to pay for accomodations until then. Honestly, I was expecting Air Berlin to put me up in the cheapest hotel they could find, but instead, I got this:

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After throwing my stuff all over the bed, and talking to mom on Skype for a bit, I headed downstairs to ask the girl at the front desk if there were any museums, gardens, etc within walking distance. She gave me a pamphlet illustrating the train/subway station and promised me it was easy. I told her I wanted to see "old town", but her directions sent me to the Dusseldorf version of Times Square. I fought the urge to blow all my money in H&M and bought a coffee in a market instead. Not a fan of German coffee.

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Of course, on the way back, I got lost. I didn't notice what line I was riding, but once I got on a train and realized I was the only idiot on there, I jumped off right before the doors cut my arms off. Ok, maybe not, but it was close. And for the record, I was honest and bought an all day ticket (I know I get lost a lot, and was certain I'd need as many tickets as I could possibly get, just in case.) But NOT ONCE did anyone check said ticket. 6 Euros. Wasted. Next time, I'll be sneaky and dishonest. Anything to save a buck, right?

I rode back to the hotel with no souveniers, a tummy full of bitter coffee, and a creepy guy staring me down as I blasted Jason Mraz on my iPod.

As much as I tried to fight jet-lag by staying busy and drinking copious amounts of caffeine, it's already been an exhausting day. Finally getting some dinner and hittin' the hay. Flight leaves at 6:45 am tomorrow. Hopefully.