AUGUST 20 AND 21, 2004 HOMEWARD BOUND
August 20 started like most other days...this time a bit earlier. The first time the alarm had been used the entire trip to ensure that we were up and at 'em at five a.m. No one should have to get up that early while on vacation, but in order to beat the traffic into London, Gatwick Airport, we were told by "THOSE IN THE KNOW" that's what we should do. Guess what....go on guess----Nope, we were actually up before the alarm sounded, but when it sounded it alarmed me. I had removed the sheets on both beds and was remaking one when it went off. Remember the low ceilings...well, my head remembers them quite well. It even has a few souveniers! Of the 7 low beams and three low ceiling lights...times 2, plus 5 extra...yep, 25 knots (the last five while hurrying to get finished up before leaving. Does that mean I'm a slow learner...or just in for head banging good time???
Well, while attempting to dry some linens that we put in to wash before bed, the dryer malfunctioned....first the tires, my head way too many times, and now the dryer (we discovered on the morning we were trying to leave) and now it was pouring down rain...I knew we were just at the beginning of another lovely day! My pain was eased a bit as we discovered the traffic much lighter than expected and we made excellent time to Gatwick. Less than 2 hours,in fact. Now of the two terminals, which one...North or South? We see the sign for air cargo at the North so we choose South. We drove around the indoor garage for what seemed like 45 minutes before we saw a car pulling out of an end spot that would be easy to find upon return. But oh no...it figures...it was a wee bit too tight and as things rang true to course, a large concrete pylon made contact with the side of the car. You know the sound of scraping, crushing metal? To me it was like an explosion. Anyway, we reversed out of that spot and searched for another with plenty of room. There was a bit of white paint from the pylon on the finish, and a scratch about mid door. The paint buffed off with a little elbow grease and saliva soaked tissues (and a tad of scraping with what little finger nails the both of us could muster). It didn't look too bad...but then again..it wasn't scratched before we had charge of the car. Knowing we would have to tell Kevin about the incident made us both a bit ill as we were hoping he would want to exchange with us again. It had put a cloud over the entire trip and our moods darkened as we made our way into the terminal.
English is spoken in England, of course, but signage and directions for the weary traveller are too few and often unclear..with arrows pointing vaguely in a direction of which is difficult to discern when there are three possible corridors in that general direction. Upon asking a couple of questions, we found that our flight left from(I know you'll believe this when I tell you), that's right, the North Terminal. So off we go scurring around the corner and down two escalators with luggage in tow to catch the monorail to the North Terminal. I didn't feel so badly as there were many, many, many others that found themselves in the same situation as we all crammed into the 3 car train. The rest of the check in process was uneventful. We had no luggage to check so we began looking for a bite to eat. We don't do well without breakfast and that morning cup ...pot of coffee. We found a couple of places from which to choose..the Cuban Cafe was ruled out..no offense to anyone...Starbucks (while the coffee is good...we needed more than a pastry). And a "French" Cafe with outrageous prices, even for England. I don't have the pound sign on my keyboard here, but 11.90 later (remember multiply this by $1.85) we went trodding to the gate with much lighter pockets but satisfied bellies.The time was now 10 am. So, even without traffic, to prepare for this flight and make the "one hour prior to boarding @ the boarding gate" we actually did need to leave at five a.m. to make it. The stress of this now over...the stress of the damaged auto loomed over us like a black cloud.
Sitting in Zone 9, we were of the last called to board. Fortuantely there was overhead for the large bags, the little ones under the seat..and lots of leg room in the Exit Row...downside, it was the front exit row, so our seat back did not recline. 8.5 hours later we touched down in Atlanta on schedule...and for Delta that's a feat in itself.
Customs and Immigration, while tight for other nationalities was a breeze for us, especially as we had no checked baggage. The only real baggage we carried was the scarred auto. And the weight of that was weighing on each of us more than the other knew.
There must have been an A.C. problem in the Atlanta airport, because it was hot, humid and muggy. It was a miserable 2 hour wait for our final destination flight.
A lady with a wheel chair asked would I mind her bags while she was gone for a minute or two..and without thinking about what I was doing (my brain was still on vacation) I said yes. There is a reason we're asked not to do that sort of thing for anyone...but the word "Sure" jumped out of my mouth before I realized it. As it got closer to boarding time, and over 40 minutes later, I was beginning to worry that I had really gotten myelf into even more trouble. About 5 minutes before boarding, the lady gimped back, thanked me, apologized for taking so long....made me feel like a bit of a mule for doubting...and "No problem" seemed to come out in a sigh of relief.
Doug's parents met us at the airport in West Palm Beach after a quiet uneventful flight (thank goodness). I established right away that I was hungry and would love to have KFC. We found it, I went in to purchase a bucket with sides and came back out to the car. Trouble was, I couldn't remember what kind of car it was..or the color..so I walked halfway around the store before I realized there were no cars there...and went back to square one. The car was a lone one with the lights one in the corner of the lot. Relief..at last..inside the house...the big reunion! A happy excited dog can lift the spirits of the most forlorn on most ocassions..and this was one of those. But with not only one dog, but four of the happiest, excited and licky pups I've seen in quite a while. A cold-nosed furr ball pushed all the drama to the background and made our homecoming the best part of the trip.
Well, while attempting to dry some linens that we put in to wash before bed, the dryer malfunctioned....first the tires, my head way too many times, and now the dryer (we discovered on the morning we were trying to leave) and now it was pouring down rain...I knew we were just at the beginning of another lovely day! My pain was eased a bit as we discovered the traffic much lighter than expected and we made excellent time to Gatwick. Less than 2 hours,in fact. Now of the two terminals, which one...North or South? We see the sign for air cargo at the North so we choose South. We drove around the indoor garage for what seemed like 45 minutes before we saw a car pulling out of an end spot that would be easy to find upon return. But oh no...it figures...it was a wee bit too tight and as things rang true to course, a large concrete pylon made contact with the side of the car. You know the sound of scraping, crushing metal? To me it was like an explosion. Anyway, we reversed out of that spot and searched for another with plenty of room. There was a bit of white paint from the pylon on the finish, and a scratch about mid door. The paint buffed off with a little elbow grease and saliva soaked tissues (and a tad of scraping with what little finger nails the both of us could muster). It didn't look too bad...but then again..it wasn't scratched before we had charge of the car. Knowing we would have to tell Kevin about the incident made us both a bit ill as we were hoping he would want to exchange with us again. It had put a cloud over the entire trip and our moods darkened as we made our way into the terminal.
English is spoken in England, of course, but signage and directions for the weary traveller are too few and often unclear..with arrows pointing vaguely in a direction of which is difficult to discern when there are three possible corridors in that general direction. Upon asking a couple of questions, we found that our flight left from(I know you'll believe this when I tell you), that's right, the North Terminal. So off we go scurring around the corner and down two escalators with luggage in tow to catch the monorail to the North Terminal. I didn't feel so badly as there were many, many, many others that found themselves in the same situation as we all crammed into the 3 car train. The rest of the check in process was uneventful. We had no luggage to check so we began looking for a bite to eat. We don't do well without breakfast and that morning cup ...pot of coffee. We found a couple of places from which to choose..the Cuban Cafe was ruled out..no offense to anyone...Starbucks (while the coffee is good...we needed more than a pastry). And a "French" Cafe with outrageous prices, even for England. I don't have the pound sign on my keyboard here, but 11.90 later (remember multiply this by $1.85) we went trodding to the gate with much lighter pockets but satisfied bellies.The time was now 10 am. So, even without traffic, to prepare for this flight and make the "one hour prior to boarding @ the boarding gate" we actually did need to leave at five a.m. to make it. The stress of this now over...the stress of the damaged auto loomed over us like a black cloud.
Sitting in Zone 9, we were of the last called to board. Fortuantely there was overhead for the large bags, the little ones under the seat..and lots of leg room in the Exit Row...downside, it was the front exit row, so our seat back did not recline. 8.5 hours later we touched down in Atlanta on schedule...and for Delta that's a feat in itself.
Customs and Immigration, while tight for other nationalities was a breeze for us, especially as we had no checked baggage. The only real baggage we carried was the scarred auto. And the weight of that was weighing on each of us more than the other knew.
There must have been an A.C. problem in the Atlanta airport, because it was hot, humid and muggy. It was a miserable 2 hour wait for our final destination flight.
A lady with a wheel chair asked would I mind her bags while she was gone for a minute or two..and without thinking about what I was doing (my brain was still on vacation) I said yes. There is a reason we're asked not to do that sort of thing for anyone...but the word "Sure" jumped out of my mouth before I realized it. As it got closer to boarding time, and over 40 minutes later, I was beginning to worry that I had really gotten myelf into even more trouble. About 5 minutes before boarding, the lady gimped back, thanked me, apologized for taking so long....made me feel like a bit of a mule for doubting...and "No problem" seemed to come out in a sigh of relief.
Doug's parents met us at the airport in West Palm Beach after a quiet uneventful flight (thank goodness). I established right away that I was hungry and would love to have KFC. We found it, I went in to purchase a bucket with sides and came back out to the car. Trouble was, I couldn't remember what kind of car it was..or the color..so I walked halfway around the store before I realized there were no cars there...and went back to square one. The car was a lone one with the lights one in the corner of the lot. Relief..at last..inside the house...the big reunion! A happy excited dog can lift the spirits of the most forlorn on most ocassions..and this was one of those. But with not only one dog, but four of the happiest, excited and licky pups I've seen in quite a while. A cold-nosed furr ball pushed all the drama to the background and made our homecoming the best part of the trip.
posted by blake at 1:45 PM
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