The last two days have been a bit hectic, more so than when I am working, I seem to be more efficient when I'm busy juggling work and packing. Having the relatives staying at the house to FIL/Dog sit also involves making sure everything is ready for them too.
3:55am this morning when the taxi arrived I was doing the usual headless chicken flapping around thing I do when someone else has packed the flight bags ’helping' me but instead gives me an anxiety attack because I don't know
a. Where everything is - I have a system when packing and know exactly which bag and which pocket a particular item is stashed.
b. I'm not 100% certain that I have packed everything. Even when I pack myself I have that niggling doubt I've forgotten something until I get to the airport then I relax knowing that it's not any really important documents that will stop me getting on the flight.The two large suitcases containing the two small suitcases, a whole pile of sweets and chocolates and a small amount of clothing were checked in leaving me to get the first of many coffees throughout the next 14 hours of travel before negotiating the security checkpoint, where once gain my system ensures that all the electronics and items for scrutiny are in one place so not to hold up fellow passengers more than necessary. I had this down to a fine art when travelling alone between Newcastle and Bristol with all my work equipment but when three less experienced travellers are in tow interfering with my plans I had to "take a chill pill" and count to ten a couple of times.
Anyway, I am now sat in the middle seat with a 12 year old excitable Little Dude on one side, a old slightly irritable husband hogging two arm rests on the other and Big Dude coughing and sneezing across the aisle. Three well behaved adults in front and a pair of extremely annoying young men, giggling at everything they say behind. Fortunately it's only just over an hour to Heathrow so nothing the headphones can't drown out.
Already spotted my first bargain...Jo Malone fragrance is a great price in duty free....
Looks like the breakfast is going to be held up as a woman a couple of rows in front seems to have fainted, three crew are helping her with oxygen etc. Seems to be ok, couldn't be doing with having to turn around and go back to Newcastle.
The rest of the flight went to plan, helped along with a pleasant bacon roll and small coffee, arriving on time at Terminal 5, rather snazzy with its fancy toilets and lighting. Ten minutes on a bus to travel from there to the less snazzy, more crowded Terminal 3. Not helped by a tired, surly twelve year old objecting to everything. "why is this airport so big?" "why aren't there more seats"....
Second security check of the trip and not the laid back Newcastle style here...lots of "it's MY airport and you'll go where I say" from grumpy officials of every nationality but white British it seemed. Anyone else think these security checks are a way of getting you to buy more bottled water? Had to dispose of two large half drunk bottles because you can't buy small ones in airports. System worked fine again and we all got through without incident.
Once through we went in search of bargain no.1... The BA lounge. Now hubby goes to great lengths to find ways of getting things cheap or free on our holidays. He knows places to find bargains. Like getting £120 of lounge services, free food and drink, wifi and nice comfy seating for the 3 hours wait for the flight. An offer where if you could find it cheaper elsewhere they gave it you for free...and boy was he up for a challenge like that, booking it with another company, informing BA of the details and then cancelling it when given it free as promised. Although the £35 spent on my manicure and pedicure in the lounge Spa meant it wasn't as 'free' as it could have been
LDude crashed out on one of the leather Chippendale sofa's for an hour's sleep, which unfortunately didn't do much to improve his demeanour while I got pampered and the other boys used the wifi to do stuff while having breakfast.
And then then fun began. On arrival at the departure gate, we checked in to be told we had checked in three pieces of baggage. Nope, just the two we said. Nope there's three here said the burly - but friendly check in man. "Are you sure?" "Yep 100% sure", at which point I recalled the TV show 'Airport' where airline staff are faced with every kind of problem while trying to get a plane filled full of people in time for their take off slot. Today we were one of those 'problems'.
Several conversations later, involving supervisors and other officials we were told to wait close by while they found the three bags so we could identify ours. I'm pretty sure this caused the handlers a headache as we had checked in early and ours would have been right at the front - as tends to happen. The plane started boarding, we were told not to. I had notions of someone illegally giving us a case filled to the brim with heroin or something else that would see us hauled into a small room for a strip search.... Thankfully a few minutes later we were escorted to the window overlooking the aircraft as two handlers strolled out from the undercarriage with out big blue cases, one with orange strap the other green. No sign of the third. Everyone breathed a sigh of relief and no one on the flight was any the wiser that we may have been the cause of a delayed take off.
We have flown American Airlines/Airways a few times now and have to say have been very impressed with their service and seating on the flight. Seats are a few inches wider, have great seat back screens - that work properly and plenty of leg room, even Jordan at 6’2" was comfortable. Food is good, and staff very attentitive and efficient. Call me a snob but I find travelling in cramped cattle class on some British flights really unpleasant. One of the reasons we book our holidays independently rather than going for a package deal. Only negative was the choice of films, nothing there I particularly wanted to watch, but then I'd rather listen to music and nod off or read/write than watch a film.
Half way through the 8 hour flight now and I've eaten a meal of salad, meatballs and cherry crumble with a glass of wine, listened to a particularly good playlist twice - nodded off for an hour so listened again, had ice cream and now feeling a little refreshed catching up with you while watching two very young but well behaved (so far) babies being walked up and down the aisles. I know the embarrassment of having a young irritable child crying and whining on long haul, and feel for families experiencing the same.
Charlotte, North Carolina. Nice quiet little airport, plenty of food places and lots of seating. Security more laid back than Newcastle - just leave everything in your bag, walk through the arch and off you go. Simples. Kids have been fed and watered since they are reluctant to eat aircraft food, now waiting at the gate to board the last leg of a 17 hour journey. As usual the thought of it was worse than reality, and since it halved the price of the flights of going direct, was worth it.
I'm now at that stage where a nice hot shower followed by crawling under the crisp white sheets you get over here would be bliss. However we still have the negotiate the baggage claim, shuttle, reclaim system at Orlando International Airport, the 'guess what colour our car will be' game (I'm going with White) as we approach the car hire garage and then find the hotel. Usually we know exactly where to go as we head south to the Disney/Universal area, but as we are spending the first three days in St. Augustine from tomorrow we are staying overnight in an airport hotel and heading North in the morning.
Oh and I seem to have developed a cold - not surprising since half the plane from Heathrow was coughing and sneezing.
We left Charlotte an hour late. We are all in a state of 'can't be arsed'. Sitting on the plane as it creeps closer to the take off spot in a line of aircraft I decided to read the tatty magazine in the seat pocket. Two things caught my eye. An article on how to select an English Premier League team. The writer had himself gone for Spurs, although only because his girlfriend didn't want to stay in Liverpool when they visited England later that year. However, the likes of Newcastle, Norwich and Sunderland were dismissed as not being worth following. Had I not been in a state of can't be arsed-ness I may have written a scathing response. How very dare he. AND he called it soccer!
And then I saw this.....Kinky Curly Custard???
And that's where I will leave you today....goodnight x
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