I should probably begin by admitting that the title of this article is somewhat misleading. This is certainly not the first trip I've ever taken by myself. It is however, the first big trip that I've taken where I wasn't the driver, and had to rely on other forms of transportation. In this case, the transportation in question is the Greyhound bus system. However, before we begin reading of these misadventures in bus riding, it is important that we have some context...

April 1st, 2016 is where our adventure begins.
It is on this date that I received some of the greatest news of my life. I have been selected to receive a Killam Fellowship, which will allow me to spend the following Spring semester abroad at Acadia University in Nova Scotia, Canada. I had applied for the Killam Fellowship the previous year, and although I was selected as an alternate, I ultimately did not get to spend any part of my junior year abroad. I was encouraged to reapply by many individuals, and I could not be happier that I did. As the time has passed, my excitement has only grown. Over this past weekend, I joined the rest of the Killam Fellows, as well as the Fulbright Scholars and Students, in Ottawa for an orientation event that included the opportunity to tour the Supreme Court, meet the Chief Justice of Canada herself, among many other amazing opportunities. While it truly has been a wonderful trip that I will not forget for a very long time, actually getting up to Ottawa was one of the biggest series of misadventures that I have ever encountered.

In the time leading up to my departure, I tried to be as absolutely prepared as I could: I had my tickets printed off and in hand, bags packed for a week in advance, plenty of activities to do on the trip up... the works. A wonderfully kind friend of mine offered to bring me up to the bus stop so that I could be on my way without a hitch. We pulled into the bus station roughly half an hour before it was supposed to leave (like they tell you to be), and by the time we had the car parked, the bus had pulled away. Trying not to panic, I asked the woman at the counter to confirm whether or not that it was, in fact, my bus that had just pulled away. She informed me that the next one would be along... at 1:00 in the morning.
My friend, bless his heart, offered numerous times to drive me up to Montreal, to possibly catch my connecting bus from there to Ottawa, or to forego the bus altogether and drive me to Ottawa himself. I refused and just asked him if he would bring me back to catch the late bus instead, which he gladly did.

From here, the misadventures continued. When the bus arrived, the driver was the one to inform me that I would need to pay an exchange fee for my ticket. Of course, the station had closed at midnight, and there was no way to do this until the station opened up again at either 4:00 or 5:00. Fighting back tears, I stood there trying to figure out what to do. I had sent my friend home due to the late hour, and because I thought I was going to be all set. The driver of the bus, seeing me in my distressed state, told me that he would take me to Montreal, where I would have to get a new ticket to Ottawa. I thanked him profusely as I boarded the bus, and took a seat. I spent the next half an hour crying, partly because of stress, partly because of relief, and partly because of exhaustion, since I had been up since 8:00 in the morning. Arriving in Montreal around 3:15 in the morning, I finally put my French speaking skills to use as I asked the woman at the counter for a ticket to Ottawa. Since the bus did not leave until 5:00 in the morning, I got comfortable in a seat next to the gate so I would be ready when this bus arrived. I quickly boarded when it arrived, and finally settled in for less than two hours of poor sleep (not exactly like the woman in the cover picture, but there were some similarities). I could not have been more relieved and excited when we finally pulled into the bus station, because I finally at least had an idea of where I was. Thankfully, there were cabs waiting outside of the bus station, and it wasn't long before I stepped into the welcoming lobby of the Lord Elgin Hotel and knew that my misadventures were finally over.

Apart from the hysterical misadventure that was the trip to Ottawa, this weekend has been one of the greatest that I have had in some time. Being a part of the Fulbright and Killam family is truly one of the greatest honors that I have ever received, and I not only look forward to my time abroad next semester, but also to seeing all of the amazing people that I met on this trip in Washington, D.C. next April. We can only hope that my trip down there will not have any of the same misadventures that this trip has had, but only time will tell!