So sad to leave our relatives, and their lovely house! And we were dreading the long trip back, though we were eager to see our kitties and Dave again. Did some last packing and trip prep, then SarahP and Jim drove us up to Arnos Grove for the long tube ride back to Heathrow Terminal 5. Hugged goodbye and then hurried in, and the journey started off on the wrong foot, literally. Sarah’s rolling suitcase tripped her, and she hit the deck in Arnos Grove. A TFL employee hurried over, but she was ok. And we re-reminded ourselves that we didn’t need to hurry.
Believe it or not, Heathrow was a madhouse. We checked our bags with no problem, then waited in a long security line, and finally were lucky to grab a table at around noon at a packed J.D. Wetherspoon outlet and breathe for a while. We had a fine beer/cider and paninis. We were on British Air 0213, scheduled to leave at 14:40, but they hadn’t posted our gate yet. I checked again when I got a second beer and told Sarah that I had some good news and some bad news. The good news was that the gate had been posted, but the bad news was that it was miles away and we’d have to take another shuttle to get to it.
Oh well, hoisted up our luggage again and trundled down to the right place, where we got the right train, and finally got to the right gate, where we found a seat and waited some more. And that was just the beginning of waiting! Time to board at last. This time we were in the middle foursome (again) of the second-to-last row, and we were next to a family with three very young kids. One of them kicked a glass of wine over on Sarah about halfway through the flight, but the parents generally did a heroic job of helping the kids through the painful experience of trans-Atlantic travel. And I was on the aisle at least.
But after we were fully boarded, we continued to sit and sit and sit at the gate. I had started watching The Barbie Movie, but it was more than halfway over, and we were still at the gate! The pilot eventually came on the intercom, a little miffed, and said that since it was such a crowded day at Heathrow we had to get “wing walkers” to help us taxi through the airport, and they weren’t showing up. They finally did show up and we got going, but we then had to taxi for another half hour or so before taking off at last, about two hours after we were scheduled to.
Luckily there wasn’t a strong jet stream that day and by the time we made landfall over Newfoundland and then landed at Logan at last, we’d made up much of that time and were not far after the scheduled 5:00PM arrival. Long line at immigration, but it moved quickly for us natives, and then baggage retrieval was quick, and customs was just a couple of officials smiling at people and asking a few questions if you looked suspicious. Walked past some people blowing up an air mattress for some reason, then got outside and we were back in Boston on a hot, sunny day.
Waited for the Logan Express bus, and realized what was going on. The sidewalk we were on was right in front of the wing of the International Terminal that they’ve devoted to housing immigrants.
The bus arrived after not that long and we were whisked through surprisingly light rush hour traffic up to the Anderson RTC, where Dave was waiting. Wrestled the big suitcases into the back of Olive, and then made it back home. Boy were we glad to see the kitties safe and sound, and they were even more glad to see us!
So how do I sum this up? It was a very ambitious vacation, covering three distinct phases (Scotland, London, Norfolk), all of which were fantastic. We did, saw, experienced, and enjoyed, many great things. I hope to never forget the beauty of Western Scotland in Spring, the awesomeness of seeing the clocks in Greenwich, or the gentle ease of rural Norfolk. But a lot of time and effort was spent on travel, and I could feel myself getting older by the minute as we sat or stood or bent double (when the tube was crowded) through endless trains, planes, and automobiles, as well as busses, shuttles, lifts, escalators, people movers, stairs, tunnels, and ramps. It was wonderful and I’d do it again, but maybe not for a bit. And of course, the best thing was visiting family and friends, and seeing first-hand once more that the world really is filled with good, friendly people.
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