After a week of serious planning...

We'll attempt something like this: we fly into Frankfurt, Germany then take a train to Mainz, to Oberwesel, then Cochem, a day trip through Trier on our way to Koln (Cologne), then Amsterdam, Der Haag (The Hague), Gent, Brugge, sweet Paris, where we'll catch a night train to San Sebastian. After that, off to Barcelona, Carcassone, Grenoble, Geneva (or close town), Milano, Firenze (Florence), then Verona. Will we have any money left after Italy's high prices? Either way, we'll go up to Innsbruck, over to Munchen (Munich), down to Ljubljana and up to Budapest. To follow that, a stop in Vienna, Cesky Krumlov, a little stay in Praha (Prague) with a final stop in Berlin before flying back to the real world. phew. I hope my shoes are up to it!

Eurail, you are pricey but fantastic

We threw down some serious credit cardage for some Eurail Global Passes. Now that we have our huge expenses out of the way, (deep breath!) we can figure out the best way to spend the rest. Like one guide book recommended, take the crummy lodging and see the free sights so that you can "invest" in tasty vittles. I'm inclined to agree.

For now, we are in Atlanta, then Charleston, then Lexington, then Asheville. Then Frankfurt!

Frankfurt!

With a new budget hammered out and a new plan altogether- we've booked flights to Frankfurt! April 28th - June 23rd.

HelpEx in Asheville

Great day: Called the German consulate in Atlanta and was quickly routed to a helpful person, who nicely and directly let me know what I needed to do to be super sure we don't get turned away. Already Germany is seeming much friendlier! I also emailed the consulate through their website and heard back within 24 hrs from a different person. He said he didn't foresee us having any trouble- and that the UK isn't part of Schengen. That's right! UK isn't in the cool-kids club. Also sent an email directly to Frankfurt customs... Couldn't hurt! 

Meanwhile, Chris and I helped out at his parents' house to earn some of our room and board! Pretty nice stone path, eh? Picture

The bums always lose, Lebowski!

After a hike in the gorgeous North Carolina mountains, our spirits are lifted. A little fresh air goes a long way. Tomorrow, we call the German consulate in Atlanta and see if we would be allowed to be tourists in their country for 3 months. Going to Germany was the original plan anyway- we added on the UK to extend our trip. Hear that Britain? Yeah, we didn't want you either. ;) But for everyone else, we can highly recommend a little North Carolina mountains for your diet this time of year.

Returned. Removed. Whatever you call it, we're back in the USA.

Our great adventure began with a fabulous send off from the Foxes and the Windhams, as they waved goodbyes from Charlotte airport, noon on Saturday. We soaked up our last few moments in the States and waited for our 3pm flight to London via Newark.

Around 6am London time on Sunday, as the plane was descending into London Heathrow we began eagerly planning how to get through the airport, off onto the Underground Picadilly line, taking Glouchester stop to the hotel to drop off our things before a day of sightseeing. Wouldn't that have been great? With a little stop-off at a cafe to email the folks and enjoy some coffee...

First stop, customs. We went up to the counter together and before we know it, there are apparently problems with our intentions for the United Kingdom. "So you want to stay six months and you've quit your jobs back home?" She says with what I used to think was a charming accent, giving us the "you're crazy" look.  "And you have no documents on how you'll do this?" Well, we had booked a hotel and a train ride but little did we know that with each detail we offered, we were giving her fodder for later interrogations. But alas, we assumed it was just a glitch. 

She took us to someone else- a flighty woman who took us to get our checked backpacks and gave them a look over. She said if we were saying we'd volunteer in the UK then they wouldn't let us through but it was too late to change our story. Not to mention our mamas taught us never to lie, especially not to the British government.

So, to a holding room we go- more accurately called a detention room but that would make us evil immigration villains so we'll say "holding room." We're given notice that we are under further examination as well as written notice for reasons for detention and bail rights. We have our pictures taken, our fingerprints put into a computer and our passports and luggage are taken into the custody of the "Home Office" of the UK Border Agency. By now it's about 11am London time on Sunday and at this rate, we might not have to worry about filling time until the 3pm check in at the hotel! To us, it feels like 6am after a night without sleep so hotels are sounding better than most of the sites we'd planned to see. 

Security staff operates independently from the Immigration office and they offered us food, PGTips from a vending machine and some levity. We asked one man what the best pub would be, should we ever get out of the holding room. To which he replied, "I should think the closest one." 

Around 1pm, we were separately interviewed by charming Agent 8511- reminding me of Ayn Rand's Anthem where everyone has a number instead of a name. The immigration officers don't wear name tags and when asked, my interviewee only gave me her officer #. I went first and she asked about 15 questions, including what we did for work, how much money we had, what we had planned for when we returned to the States, what we wanted to see in England and what we wanted to do. I thought my clarity, cooperation and charm would help. Proven: Southern charm has no effect on English stiff upper lips. 

So then I ask her, "Worst case scenario, what we are looking at?" Quite unexpectedly, she almost timidly says, "We would send you back on the first available flight." Haha! Imagine that! Good thing that's only the worst case scenario and I'm sure highly unlikely. They would never! We're American, we have money and have planned this for two years, which she very well knows thanks to her thorough questions. Regardless, it starts the water works. My optimism defenses are down and as tears blur my concentration, my answers become terse. At this point, I can't wait to get back to the holding room we've been sharing with four other detainees for the last six hours. It's not good when that's your preferred place, but as long as we were in there, we still had a chance of making it out to the UK.

Around 2pm, Chris was interrogated, "interviewed" they called it. They asked him pretty much the same questions. When he got out, we attempted to contact our banks so that they could fax our bank balances. Not that the officers had given us a fax number or anything...or taken up our offers to provide our banking log in information. The security guards gave us the information we needed, and Chris made the call. At about a pound per minute, Chris was desperate. Being a Sunday, and Easter Sunday no less, his balance was not available and "shit out of luck" was the general feeling. We realized that trying to call our parents would cost a fortune and probably be equally futile. Calling our mothers and saying, "Hi we're being detained and need you to fax our bank balances" probably wouldn't go over well! The idea of telling our parents would make the situation too real, and instead, we hoped to tell them once we got into London- nothing more than an airport hassle story.

Meanwhile, we are as entertained as one could be by our fellow detainees. First is a man from India with a dialect no one can place. Multiple interpreters come in but none is ever found. The man is quiet, calm and never says a word. Then there are the three men from Tunisia. To which, Chris says, "Oh, where they filmed Star Wars." They were seeking asylum, "a-slime" as they pronounced it, and not particularly interested in chatting about R2D2. Lastly, there was the Aussie backpacker Matty. The only native English speaker and us bored as hell, we chatted him up. It turns out he was kept in a cell the past two nights, five paces by five paces at a jail-type place, because they wanted to send him back but couldn't find a flight. As rugged as this guy was, tattoos and scruff, he said he didn't mingle with the other people at the detention center. Worrisome. If they wanted to send us back, we hoped it would be sooner rather than later.

Around 3pm Agent 8511 comes back with a verdict- "We don't think we'll be able to grant you access to the United Kingdom at this time. The reasons you gave would require you to have a Tier 3 ..yada yada under section blah-A visa..." Stunned. She keeps rambling on about applying for the visa for when we want to come back." Through tears of exhaustion and disappointment, I tell her that "We aren't coming back. That would be retarded." I regret the non-PC tone of the comment but her even-keeled nonsense was destroying over 6 months of our plans. No more Miss Nice Jess. Chris asks to see her superior.

Around 4pm, nine hours after our arrival, a Chief Immigration Officer comes to see us. She says she'll look over the file but that it was not likely she'd disagree with her colleague. We become resigned to the idea of going back. Anything to get out of that holding room and away from the resentment that was building for the British government. 

They eventually start finalizing the details for our flight back to the US. We asked if we could stop off at any airport food places, just grab some pizza or something. It was as if we asked if the Loch Ness monster was real. They said no, that there was food in the holding room. We chose a microwaved lamb curry dish and the guard insisted that the rice must go with it. At least we had some curry in England, right?

We head off to the gate around 5:15pm, our walk of shame escorted by two officers and seated behind the ticketing counter. Our passports are given to the pilot of the plane, and we are seated before anyone else. As a small gift from the gods, we are seated in the aisle with the emergency exit and a little bit of extra leg room. 

Unfortunately, they had to send us back just as we had come - Charlotte by way of Newark. We pointed out that Hawaii was also US territory but they didn't seem to have much of an imagination. At 6:25pm London time (1:25pm US), almost exactly 12 hours after our arrival, we lifted off from Heathrow. 

Tired but happy to be getting somewhere, anywhere really, we got a few glimpses of sleep on the ride back and arrived in Newark at 9:30pm local time. After a trip through customs, baggage pick up and currency exchange, we finally, around 11:30pm, made our way to a lavish Howard Johnson. (yes, read: sarcastic). Having not slept for 42hrs, 21.5 of which were on plane, we didn't much care. Dug out some clean clothes and a toothbrush and slept like babes. Well, for a few hours anyway.

4:25am Monday- Rise and shine for more planes! We hauled ourselves out of bed and took a shuttle back to Newark airport, then to Charlotte by 8am. Around 9am we finally found a rental car service that actually had cars available. (We were, however, getting used to disappointment so if they had had none, we wouldn't be totally shocked). Hopeful and energized with our rented Ford Focus, freedom of the open road and our odyssey nearly complete, we stopped at a gas station for some 5hr energy and gatorade.

Up until this point, our attempts to call parents had failed for various reasons, so no one had any idea that our plans had taken a 180. We had discussed how not to start the call: "Hi, I'm okay but..." or "Hi, we're not in London but actually at a payphone an hour away..." No matter how we sliced it, our parents and family were as disappointed for us as you might imagine. 

So now we're recovering in Asheville- still wrapping our minds around the complete debacle. The weather is divine and the plants are just starting to be lush. We're practically zombies, so it's good we aren't operating any heavy machinery. Well, not today.

We'll be looking into Denmark and Germany's visa rules, including written and verbal correspondence with their consulate showing that our trip will be a-okay with their immigration office. If that doesn't work out for any reason, we will consider traveling around the northwest of the US. All to be determined once we have full brain capacity returned.

All in all, we learned to be prepared when traveling to a different country- CALL the consulate, get it in writing that your travel plans are approved and if all else fails say you are a tourist! "Work" and "volunteer" are dirty buzz worlds in this current state of mass immigration and economic stress. If you're traveling, (especially if you have quit your job to travel!) bring your itinerary to show how delightfully touristy you'll be, including the prices of things and a total budget. Print your bank balance to show you have the money to fund said budget. The biggest lesson was to appreciate our US citizenship status and the ease of travel to all the beautiful places we have here in the US. 

If you're curious, the official UK boot goes a little something like this:   

"You have asked for leave to enter the United Kingdom for six months in order to take up employment with Help Exchange but you have no valid Certificate of Sponsorship or entry clearance. Furthermore, although this work is voluntary, Help Exchange is not a registered charity and therefore you do not quality for entry as a voluntary worker outside of the Immigration Rules. 

"You have subsequently sought entry as a visitor however in light of the above, I cannot be satisfied that you will not take up employment.

"I therefore refuse you leave to enter the United Kingdom."