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The Days are Just Packed! Pt II of II
Sep. 2nd, 2007 04:01 pmOkay, where was I?
Day Five (London Eye, Star Wars Exhibition, Spamalot!)
( ::I can't think of anything clever for this cut:: )
~*~
Days Seven and Eight (Edinburgh Fringe Festival)
( ::We were going to go to Ireland, but...:: )
~*~
Day Nine (Stonehenge, Avebury)
( ::where the banshees live, and they do live well:: )
~*~
Day Ten: Going Home
My journey home was notable for a few things. First, Jeff's maddening lack of urgency (coupled with getting a bit lost) got me to Heathrow later than I would have liked. Not a big deal, but it meant my only option for seating was a middle seat, a far cry from my luxurious flight in. Terminal 4, which apparently handles all international flights, looked like a Cairo street market, with lines forming for who knows what and people EVERYWHERE. Jeff hung out for my check-in, but left me to the security line, which stretched down the entire length of the terminal.
Once on board, I was squashed into the middle seat. To my left, a Connecticut housewife type whose husband and two sons occupied the row behind us. She saw nothing wrong with hollering conversation at them over the top of my head throughout the flight. She ordered white wine with her meals, then spewed forth horrible obscenities when she couldn't quite negotiate her way out of the seat to the restroom with the glass perched on her tray table.
To my right was a mousy, unassuming British man. He seemed normal enough, but then the plane took off and he stuck his head between his knees anxiously. He relaxed once we were at altitude, but then started watching one of the movie channels. Whatever he was watching caused him to emit high-pitched, cackling giggles and made him twitch and stroke his goatee compulsively in a heightened state of excitement I'm quite sure was never anticipated by the moviemakers. I wasn't at all reassured when he covered himself neck to toe in his blanket and I could still see fidgety movement underneath in the mid torso region. He fortunately stopped this behavior long enough to wolf down his lunch in about 30 seconds. Then almost immediately upon him finishing, the plane hit an unusually big pocket of turbulence, lurching and dipping sharply. At this, he again put his head down, moaning and grunting alarmingly. So help me, I was sure he was going to vomit. Why god? Why me? He didn't, which is about the best thing I can say about this leg of my adventure.
When we finally landed in Denver, I realized there might be an unexpected perk to sitting in the middle: I could choose which aisle to use to leave. However it didn't quite work that way. The line to the right (British freak side) wasn't moving at all. To the left (entitlement housewife) people were moving swiftly, practically running past us from behind. But Wifey wasn't making any move to get up at all, probably hanging back until her entire family was ready. I suddenly decided this was intolerable, stood up and asked, "Do you think maybe I could get out?" To my surprise, she snapped irritably, "Well, yes, if you'd just give me a chance to stand up first!" Rich, when as I said she wasn't making the slightest move to get up before I said anything. I thought after almost 10 hours of wrestling for some armrest space, trying to time my bathroom breaks to her convenience and being kicked in the back by her stupid offspring, if anyone had a right to be snippy it was me. "Thanks very much, bitch" I said as I escaped, making damn sure she heard the last part (although looking back, I almost wish I'd used the "C" word). She made no response, or if she did I was long gone. I'd like to think there was none to be made, since I was after all only calling a spade a spade.
Not the best ending to my trip to be sure, but I have plenty of other happy memories to counter it.
That night I was a bit tired, and thankful Tery had replaced me at the hospital. Saturday I felt right as rain. Sunday my jet lag hit me like a concrete wall. It came over me so suddenly Tery was consulting WebMD.com with my symptoms (as with every other condition, their advice was to seek medical help immediately. Not a terribly useful site), but it turned out I just needed sleep very, very badly.
So that's it. My London Extravaganza 2007! Hope it was as enjoyable to read about as it was to experience.
Day Five (London Eye, Star Wars Exhibition, Spamalot!)
( ::I can't think of anything clever for this cut:: )~*~
Days Seven and Eight (Edinburgh Fringe Festival)
( ::We were going to go to Ireland, but...:: )~*~
Day Nine (Stonehenge, Avebury)
( ::where the banshees live, and they do live well:: )~*~
Day Ten: Going Home
My journey home was notable for a few things. First, Jeff's maddening lack of urgency (coupled with getting a bit lost) got me to Heathrow later than I would have liked. Not a big deal, but it meant my only option for seating was a middle seat, a far cry from my luxurious flight in. Terminal 4, which apparently handles all international flights, looked like a Cairo street market, with lines forming for who knows what and people EVERYWHERE. Jeff hung out for my check-in, but left me to the security line, which stretched down the entire length of the terminal.
Once on board, I was squashed into the middle seat. To my left, a Connecticut housewife type whose husband and two sons occupied the row behind us. She saw nothing wrong with hollering conversation at them over the top of my head throughout the flight. She ordered white wine with her meals, then spewed forth horrible obscenities when she couldn't quite negotiate her way out of the seat to the restroom with the glass perched on her tray table.
To my right was a mousy, unassuming British man. He seemed normal enough, but then the plane took off and he stuck his head between his knees anxiously. He relaxed once we were at altitude, but then started watching one of the movie channels. Whatever he was watching caused him to emit high-pitched, cackling giggles and made him twitch and stroke his goatee compulsively in a heightened state of excitement I'm quite sure was never anticipated by the moviemakers. I wasn't at all reassured when he covered himself neck to toe in his blanket and I could still see fidgety movement underneath in the mid torso region. He fortunately stopped this behavior long enough to wolf down his lunch in about 30 seconds. Then almost immediately upon him finishing, the plane hit an unusually big pocket of turbulence, lurching and dipping sharply. At this, he again put his head down, moaning and grunting alarmingly. So help me, I was sure he was going to vomit. Why god? Why me? He didn't, which is about the best thing I can say about this leg of my adventure.
When we finally landed in Denver, I realized there might be an unexpected perk to sitting in the middle: I could choose which aisle to use to leave. However it didn't quite work that way. The line to the right (British freak side) wasn't moving at all. To the left (entitlement housewife) people were moving swiftly, practically running past us from behind. But Wifey wasn't making any move to get up at all, probably hanging back until her entire family was ready. I suddenly decided this was intolerable, stood up and asked, "Do you think maybe I could get out?" To my surprise, she snapped irritably, "Well, yes, if you'd just give me a chance to stand up first!" Rich, when as I said she wasn't making the slightest move to get up before I said anything. I thought after almost 10 hours of wrestling for some armrest space, trying to time my bathroom breaks to her convenience and being kicked in the back by her stupid offspring, if anyone had a right to be snippy it was me. "Thanks very much, bitch" I said as I escaped, making damn sure she heard the last part (although looking back, I almost wish I'd used the "C" word). She made no response, or if she did I was long gone. I'd like to think there was none to be made, since I was after all only calling a spade a spade.
Not the best ending to my trip to be sure, but I have plenty of other happy memories to counter it.
That night I was a bit tired, and thankful Tery had replaced me at the hospital. Saturday I felt right as rain. Sunday my jet lag hit me like a concrete wall. It came over me so suddenly Tery was consulting WebMD.com with my symptoms (as with every other condition, their advice was to seek medical help immediately. Not a terribly useful site), but it turned out I just needed sleep very, very badly.
So that's it. My London Extravaganza 2007! Hope it was as enjoyable to read about as it was to experience.
