Stranded in Virginia, thanks Heathrow

The night before my flight to Washington, D.C., I was on a picturesque farm in South east England, cuddling newborn lambs and welcoming the new moon. Under its soft glow, I set my intentions for the months ahead—confidence and bravery among them. Did I expect to be tested on those intentions so soon? Probably not.

I came to D.C. for work. Given the political climate, it felt like an odd time to visit, especially with my social media feed flooded with travel boycotts. But I stayed optimistic. My new job, an organisation that embodies hope amid the chaos of democratic decline, made the trip feel worthwhile. Meeting my colleagues from across the Atlantic was exhilarating—a week of excitement and discovery, offering me insights into a country that doom scrolling could never.

And yet, here I am, sitting in a Holiday Inn in Virginia—the American South—surrounded by fast food chains, the cultural heartbeat of America, where the scent of oil and grease lingers in the air. Outside, American flags ripple in the wind - red, white, and blue. God bless America. But how did I end up here?

After a sleepless week, I arrived at Heathrow eager to get home. I even managed to score two seats to myself. Sleeping pill in hand, teeth brushed, and skin moisturized to combat airplane dehydration—I was ready. Ready to sleep. Ready to be home.

That was until I woke up to the news that our plane was being diverted back to D.C. We landed, and chaos erupted. The airline, unsurprisingly, was no help. But in moments like these, you remember that kindness still exists.

Fast forward to me meeting Geraldine—a 70-year-old British woman who took me under her wing and became my roommate for the night. We laughed. We cried. We shared. Crazy experiences have a way of bringing people together. Despite the idea of sharing a room with a stranger feeling foreign to many, I felt safe.

Now, as I sit watching the news, Heathrow has resumed some flights. For now, I’m stuck in Virginia until tomorrow evening. From there, I’ll head to Vienna before finally making my way home. Resilience and strength come from situations like these. I’m too tired to panic, or to really care.

I suppose I’ll see what the American South has to offer. I just hope there’s more to it than McDonald’s and Chick-fil-A.