After a very long and sleepless overnight “red-eye” flight, my plane landed at Heathrow airport in London. A nice British gentleman in the middle seat (who snored, actually) handled my overhead luggage for me–so nice. Then it was time to deplane and face the great unknown. And Heathrow is the largest airport in Europe, but what could I do? I had to venture forth.

I had to ask several airport workers and text my son about the train, but I finally found the Underground Tube entrance and the PIccadilly Line. I was able to get my suitcase and duffle on easily and sat next to a sweet older lady (older than me, I think!) also traveling solo. Her larger suitcase kept rolling away from her, so I helped keep it back.

Soon we had to switch trains, and I helped her get off and on the next one. I had decided to get off at Bayswater Corner, which was too early and put me two miles away from my hotel, the Park Avenue Bayswater Inn at Hyde Park. I could have taken a bus or taxi, but I didn’t really know how to hail one–I didn’t realize you had to wave at them to get them to stop, and there was lots of traffic, and it was fast. Google Maps told me it was only a 45-minute walk, so I thought, I can do that.

Not a good decision for a 67-year-old woman dragging luggage!

But first, I must talk about my first fall–yes, fall–yes, first–of the trip. From every tube ride, you must ride an escalator back up to the ground. (At this time, I didn’t realize elevators–or lifts–were also an option.) And those escalators are tall. I stepped aboard with my rolling suitcase with the duffle attached by trolley sleeve and headed up. Suddenly my duffel bag slipped and I went tumbling down.

First strike against that duffle bag.

Did you know you can’t get up when an escalator is moving? You just keep tumbling. Fortunately, someone hit the “stop” button or switch and, mercifully, the stupid moving stairs stopped. A sweet young couple behind me helped me up, while a man in front of me retrieved my luggage. He asked me several times if I was okay, and I was, though a bit bruised. Skin and ego. And one of my fingers was bleeding from trying to get some leverage.

But I wasn’t too injured to carry on. Isn’t that a British saying: keep calm and carry on? Trekking across the west end of Hyde Park past Kensington Palace and up to Princes Street to the hotel took a lot more time and effort than I was prepared for. It was a beautiful walk through a beautiful park with beautiful though warmish weather, but I was running on fumes and lugging my bags. One funny man walking past said, “You’ll get there.” I must have had a pained look on my flushed face.

But I made it! I found the hotel, thanks to Google Maps and sheer determination. Now to get checked in.

Stay tuned for my upside down night and day experience…