Getting out of town: I love going places but hate travel! It takes so much effort to get my house and things at work in order to feel good about going away. I was so anxious the week before leaving that I lost a pound and a half from nervous energy. Wednesday morning, the day I left, I ran errands trying to get a few last minute things done. I had to do laundry, make my bed with fresh linens (my landlady is staying at the house with the dogs), pick up a Rx and withdraw cash from my bank to deposit in Ariana's B of A account. She is providing cash from her Scottish account so I don't have to pay fees to convert dollars to pounds. I've been making regular deposits - my little vacation fund. I also need to get her a Sprinkles Cupcake. I have no desire to lug a cupcake 5,000 miles, but she really, really wants one. I reluctantly head out after 11 am. I'm supposed to leave for LAX at noon - have to be there 2 hours before my 3:40 flight - this is going to be close. When I get to Sprinkles, I ask the girls if they can put in some extra tissue paper since I'm taking the cupcake to my daughter in Scotland, at which I begin to cry! I get very emotional when I'm stressed, and I am stressed. I text Ariana later in the day and joke that I can never go back to Sprinkles again...
I get back to the house at 11:54, still not having been to BofA. I'll do it on my way to Jenny's. Jenny, a friend from church, will follow me to Ginny's, a friend from high school, in Long Beach, then take me to LAX. Ginny will keep my car and pick me up from LAX. I already have my big bag in the car so just have to run in to grab everything else, including a container of yogurt that I'd had a couple bites of since I didn't have time to eat anything and an iced coffee made to use up my leftover morning coffee. I toss my things together and say a quick good bye to the dogs. I've been dreading it so much, so hard to leave them with a stranger, especially when they don't understand why you're leaving. I speed off to B of A at 12:14, running really late. I realize two blocks from the house that I've left my coffee and yogurt on the table. Too bad, you're not going back, I tell myself. I think about it for a sec and call Jenny to see if she can meet me in Long Beach instead of her following me there from Costa Mesa. She says yes. I'm so relieved, I buy a few minutes. I make the deposit and head back home to grab my yogurt to eat in the car. Jovi is on the couch, so I give her another quick squeeze, but Toby was already hiding under my bedcovers, so he missed out. Finally, I'm on my way!
I get to LAX at 1:38. My flight leaves at 3:40, so the timing is perfect. The woman who checks me in at British Airways suggests that I hang out outside of security since I have another 45 minutes or so before I have to go through. This is all news to me - the last international flight I took was to Costa Rica in 2003. I go to the rest room then to McDonald's and get a bottled water. I sit in a lounge and drink it along with the first mini-bottle of courage, er, vodka, I packed to help me sleep on the flight. I brought five with me - it's an overnight flight - I really need to sleep! A very nice middle eastern family, dad, son and daughter sit beside me and we start to talk. They ask where I'm going, and I start crying again. Oh, my. They're very sweet - he's there to pick up his other son, whom he has not seen in six years, so he is sympathetic. I text Ariana for a bit, then head for security.
Security isn't too bad until I pass through the metal detector. I'm fine, but then a bell rings. She tells me to step off to the side. I ask if I should take off my rings and she says, "No, you've been randomly selected".
Before I ask, "For what?" a younger woman comes and swabs my hands. I think to myself, this can't possibly be for gunpowder, so as she pops the swab into this hi-tech looking machine, I ask, "What is this for?" When she answers, "Explosives," I burst out laughing, and, thankfully, she laugh, too. She says, "You're clean," and I say, "I guess so!!!" and we both laugh again. Seriously.
Upon boarding, I'm really surprised at how crowded the seats are and how very little leg room there is. I had expected more of a 777. A couple who had been beside me on the jetway had deep croupy coughs and, of course, they are seated next to me. I'm not normally a germophobe, but really do not want to get sick on my first trip to Europe. Within a few minutes, she tells me they'd been sick for a couple of weeks, but have a lingering cough and are not contagious, so not to worry. I am relieved. One of their sons lives in Newport and his wife works at Ensign Middle School, so we end up talking quite a bit. The flight is fully booked. We take off right on time. British Airways service was efficient, but not over friendly by any means. I drink lots of water, and both women who served me seemed peeved, even though I tell them so each time I ask for more water. I begin asking for two glasses at a time because I don't want them to make extra trips. It's a 9 1/2 hour flight - what can I say? One would think they'd fill the dang glass up the whole way or just give me a bottle. I get a vodka and tomato juice (no charge for alcohol!) when they offer a drink and have another of my mini-bottles within the first hour. I watch the movie "Hugo" - absolutely wonderful. If you haven't seen it yet, do so!!! They serve a very nice meal. I have chicken with mushrooms in a delicious sauce, served with rice, which I do not eat, nor do I eat the roll. I do, however, eat the chocolate swirl cheesecake slice and ask for another vodka, which the attendant does not want to have to go get for me, so I settle for a small bottle of merlot. I am delighted to see that it is Laboure Roi, an excellent label which I'm familiar with from my restaurant days. After clearing, they ask people to close the window shades to darken the plane and get passengers ready for sleep. I pop in my ear buds and put on music and try my best to doze off, but it's so uncomfortable! My pillow keeps sliding down the plastic and going beside my seat. I try wrapping it in my blanket, but it's no use. The seat barely reclines. I eventually try to bend over and rest my head on the tray table, but there's not enough room. I try one more mini-bottle around midnight or so. By this time, two kids are screaming so loud that my music doesn't drown them out. I give up and end up trying to just relax and rest my eyes.
They had told us we'd get a continental breakfast an hour and a half before landing. I have already eaten an apple that I brought along and a small granola bar. Breakfast consists of a "Lunchables" type box with a puffy blueberry muffin, a small dense raisin/whole grain bar, drinkable yogurt, a lifesaver and mini box of raisins. I do the yogurt and whole grain "cookie". Both are tasty, and I get some decaf, so I'm good. The flight has been very smooth and is an hour shorter than the posted flight time of ten and a half hours, with almost no turbulence. I'm a very happy traveller other than not having had any sleep in almost 24 hours.
London Heathrow airport is hell on earth. Security is intense, pre-Olympics. I don't even want to review it here, suffice it to say, I feel like a cow on the way to slaughter. After surviving an interminable number of queues, I have to wait and wait for them to post the gate for my flight. Less than 20 minutes before boarding closes, it finally comes up. I get to the gate only to be told the flight is "slightly delayed". I got a good seat assignment on this flight. I could've been in the first row, but chose a 3rd row window seat. When I finally get aboard, there's a woman on the aisle and a gray-haired Rastafarian dude in the center seat. The Airbus is much roomier, but they both have to move to let me in. This flight is sold out as well. We take off about 15 minutes late. The seats are more comfy and recline more, so I plan on leaning back and resting for the 55 minute flight to Edinburgh. They offer beverages right away, so I wait and ask for water. They give me a small snack, too - a bag of mixed crackers and pretzels, which I normally would not eat, but I'm hungry. The Rasta guy gets something different and we both wonder aloud why and what it is. He's having trouble ripping the wrapper open, so we try different methods and when he does get it open, there's another wrapper inside! He empties it onto the tray table and we realize he's gotten two small chocolate bars. He offers me one. I agree to give him my remaining crackers in exchange. We make small talk and he says he's a musician going to play in Edinburgh. He asks if I'd like to come to his concert Friday night. I tell him thanks, but I already have plans (I do...). I figure I am not much into his style of music, anyway. We begin talking about that. I finally ask his name, and when he tells me, "they call me Billy Ocean", I bury my head in my hands - I am so embarrassed not to have recognized him! I loved Caribbean Queen, had his "cassette" (Google that word if you're under 25 and don't know what I'm talking about....) and have always loved the story of how that song rose to #1 twenty-five years or so ago. He seems to appreciate that I recognize him and we yak the rest of the flight.
I ask for a pic with him and his manager takes some photos that are overexposed. I tell him they won't do since everyone knows Billy Ocean isn't white and they all crack up. The other guy traveling with him takes two better photos, considering I look like crap.
He gives me a kiss on both cheeks and we leave the plane. I see him posing for photos with someone in the terminal. He's so much tinier in person - never pictured him being so slight. Or with white hair for that matter! I exit the airport and go to the Airlink bus that Ariana had emailed me a ticket for and head into Edinburgh. It's raining slightly, gray and overcast, but the 30 minute trip into town is great - so much beautiful scenery. A couple of very loud female students (from the US, of course) are telling two young guys everything we see along the way, so I learn a lot. I am trying to text Ariana with my phone on airplane mode, but can't figure out how to send it. I don't know how she'll find me, but she had told me not to worry if I couldn't send a text - she said she'd track my flights. We finally get to Waverly Station, and the driver stops on a bridge to let us out. I had thought we'd be getting dropped off at a station, so I'm confused and don't know where to go when I exit. I turn around to try to figure it out, and see my beautiful daughter standing on the sidewalk. I gasp, I'm so surprised and happy to see her. She had only been waiting for a little while but asks why I hadn't turned on the wireless on my phone. I had forgotten all about having to do that. I am so very happy to finally be in Scotland with my darling kid!
No comments:
Post a Comment