The Big Trip, Part 1

The trip started out well. Brian and I had both taken Thursday off from work, so there was no last minute rushing around. We were totally packed and ready to go hours before our flight, so we decided to load up the car and go out to lunch. I was craving Mexican and we needed to go somewhere with easy parking and a drugstore nearby (a few last minute toiletry needs), so we decided on Cactus Cantina. We were in and out of there really quickly, which enabled us to stay way ahead of the schedule I had set for us. Yes, I am *that* person on vacation. I can’t help it—I really need to be at the airport way ahead of time, just in terms of my sanity. Not surprisingly, we made it to the airport pretty far ahead of time, which is totally fine, because I would rather be at the gate reading a book than sitting in traffic worrying about missing the plane. (Have I mentioned that whenever I travelled with my mother as a child, we were always running through the airport, minutes away from missing our plane?)

The flight was fairly uneventful. I like British Airways. You get your own little movie screen with lots of choices and the food isn’t too bad (at least in the realm of airline food). A baby in the next row over screamed for about three hours, but I just turned the volume on my headphones up. I find that I watch movies on planes that I would probably never watch at home. For example, Two Weeks Notice with Hugh Grant and Sandra Bullock. It was pretty dopey, but it’s perfect airline viewing, because it requires very little attention and the outcome is exactly what you expect. I also finished the mystery I was reading. I didn’t sleep. I may be short, but coach is still too cramped for me to get comfortable. I don’t know how tall people take it.

When we arrived at Heathrow, we had to wait in line at passport control for an hour and a half. It was ridiculous. This was my third trip through Heathrow, and the previous two times, I waited maybe 5 minutes in line. I guess all the international flights were arriving at 7 a.m. Friday morning. There were about 1000 people in line and only three people working. Everyone was really grumply including yours truly. Once we finally got through that mess, it was on to the lovely Heathrow Express to Paddington. This is a really nice train ride—clean, fast, scenic. We got to Paddington around 9:30. Then the waiting began. We had to meet Jenny and Colin to buy group tickets for the train to Plymouth(to get a huge discount). They were flying into Gatwick, and I had no way to reach them. I started to get a little worried when they hadn’t arrived by 11:15 (we had to be on the noon train to make our other connections). They showed up a few minutes later and we made it on the noon train with no problem. Unfortunately, we couldn’t get seats together, so we were split up for the first few stations, but I did manage to relocate next to Brian. We were in the so-called quiet car, which was anything but. The two most boring people in the unverse were sitting across from us. They talked about cats for 45 minutes straight.

The first half of the train ride was kind of dull. The terrain looked just like Virginia (yes, Virginia is very pretty, but I was looking for something new and different). As got closer to the coast, it changed, and we were riding along the water for much of the trip. When we arrived at the Plymouth station, there were approximately 20 of us heading to the wedding. I can’t tell you much about Plymouth, since we just hopped in a taxi, which took us to the ferry dock. The taxi driver give me shit about not getting my bags in the cab fast enough. I just gave him a dirty look. I haven’t slept in over 24 hours, buddy, give me a break. While we waited for the ferry, most of the crowd popped into the pub for a pint, but after being awake for about 30 hours and traveling for about 20 hours, beer was the last thing I wanted. The ferry ride was short and the view was great. When we arrived on the other side, about 18 bundled into a van that was supposed to hold maybe 12 people. We had a slightly terrifying ride through twisty, hilly roads, all the while being entertained by the comedy stylings of our bus driver (all very much in the Henny Youngman “take my wife, please” vein; one joke was “my first wife died. my second wife won’t.” yuk yuk). We finally arrived at the lovely Cross Keys Inn in beautiful downtown Cawsand.

More later…