America Here We Come

Our early morning alarm rouses us from a very light sleep. We never sleep well the night before we go away. Up, showered, last bit of packing and all my houseplants bungled into the bath.

Our taxi to Heathrow pulled up quietly outside right on time. Our cases felt heavy as they were loaded into the boot but The Boss assures me we’re ok.

The beauty of heading out at this ungodly hour is the roads are quiet and we seem to be stumbling into the airport in no time.

The airport process was going smoothly until we hit security. Non wired bra for me today meant I escaped a good patting down whilst they establish it’s the wires sending all the alarms into panic mode. Strolling through towards the trays to get our hand luggage back, I spied mine veering off to the left and into a queue of trays waiting to be checked. My heart sank, hopefully it wasn’t the plastic crochet hook I’d packed for the flight.

Patiently waiting whilst the security man slowly goes through the hand luggage ahead of mine. Jars of horseradish pile up out of one bag and enough alcohol to sink a ship in another. Finally my turn comes. The slow and thorough security guard checks the computer and beckons me over. I can’t help it but his authority has me feeling like I’m about ten years old in front of the headmaster about to be reprimanded for smuggling chewing gum into school. He looks me in the eye, asks me to open my bag and then asks to see my book, apparently on this occasion it’s my book that’s set it off. Goodness only knows why. He scans it and then rubs the cover with a thingmibob and sends me on my way. Panic over, on we go in search of breakfast.

Ripped off for a couple of bits of bacon and sausages. Would you like a slice of toast with that? Yes please. Re reading the menu whilst we wait we realise they are going to hit us with a couple of pounds more for a chunk of toasted bread. Oh well, C’est la vie, I’ve eaten it before we cotton on to their sales pitch.

A little sit on a chair watching the departures screen flashing changes and we are called to our gate.

An array of people catch my eye as we sit and wait. Lots of American accents, Golden girls eccentrically dressed and loud. A lone English woman paces around whilst on the phone, youngsters sit staring at their phones and business men, checking laptops and making calls.

Our flight is called and we board quietly and orderly, waiting until we are called. No long queues with everyone grappling to get in first, very civilised. We walk through the plane to our seats, we don’t have to wait for people stuffing their hand luggage into overhead lockers. People just go about their business, mindful of others and get out of the way.

Seatbelt on and I discover the screen is too high in the back of the seat in front of me for my varifocals to focus and I’m sat over and engine, so even if I could see the screen I can’t hear it through the complimentary headphones. A 9 hour flight with nothing to do but rest and crochet sounds just the job.

Airplane food is something I’ve always enjoyed. Today didn’t disappoint, pesto chicken with vegetables and a cold bean salad with a small focaccia and a salted caramel slice for dessert, it was so tasty.

Not long after we’ve eaten and I attempt a nap knowing that this is going to be a long day. I’m woken abruptly by the sound of retching. It’s the lone English woman from the departure lounge, sat behind us. Steve goes in search of help whilst she reaches for another bag. The air staff settle her and help her clean herself up. They ask if she has special needs, she says yes but doesn’t give them any inkling as to what they might be. She tells the cabin crew that she going meeting her boyfriend for the first time. I’d love to know the outcome of that story.

Wheels are dropped and we stay till we are the final passengers left. Ten minutes into our flights Steve lost an ear bud, it fell towards the Sick bag lady who had countless open bags at her feet. I suspect it fell into one of those, even though she assured us it hadn’t crawling around on his hands knees, he’s determined to find it. The cabin crew tell him his search will be fruitless, he comes back up with his hand in the air, he’s found it, jammed behind the leg of my seat.

Off we go, to the departure lounge in Atlanta, hoping that the 4 hour wait until our next flight passes quickly.