I get on my last airline in 24 hours and am so grateful that it is because I don’t think I could go on a fourth and conserve even a modicum of saneness. British Airways is flawless in its operation. BA also excels in service. The planes, however, show their age. Lots more room is a plus. But the leather seats are cracking and the overall feeling is that of an aging woman who tries no longer to fix herself up. Miraculously I cannot keep my eyes open any longer and fall asleep for most of the hour and twenty minutes from Berlin to London.
At the airport again my custom protocol is incredibly painless with smiling agents and super helpful people. I’m really enjoying being an española! The EU passport is a blessing. Thank you abuelito! I was his favorite – or so I was led to believe – and with this gift of nationality I know that it was true.
And it seems they know I’m coming… the camera crew is here! Oh, not me, huh? Someone is holding a Phelps sign. Could it be the swimming medalist they are waiting for? No. They wouldn’t need a sign. But some things do welcome me to London.
I have to transfer and now I realize how huge Heathrow is. Again, everyone is super helpful.
I go to the ladies’ room and the only reason why I mention it is because I had the most frightening of encounters. There, staring at me unflinching is death worn over! It cruelly stares me down. No amount of make-up will fix this so I don’t try. I put some lipstick on though, some mascara and look at the mirror again. She hasn’t left, but this reflection does not reflect how I feel! I don’t try any more and leave towards our meeting point Costa Café.
I pass an exchange place and do a double take. Yikes, $1.79 will buy a British Pound. How can it be more valuable than the Euro? But it is. Normally (when not going to an exchange place) I can buy a British Pound for $1.51 and a Euro for $1.29 Wow.
I need to plug my computer. Running out of battery and I realize I have forgotten a very important thing: a plug adaptor for my electronics. Will probably buy here at the airport otherwise will have to go running around town in search of, which I don’t want to do.
I also have tried to get internet and bought a Boingo Hotspot thing. It didn’t work. Mac doesn’t seem to like it or there is a conspiracy against me going on-line once more. I almost welcome the disconnect. Oh bullocks, as the Brits would say, I don’t. I want to get on my mail, my Facebook, my online Klout. 🙂 I also learned another word on the plane today. They are not potato chips, they are crisps.
I’m starting to not think straight again. Dean’s plane has arrived I think half an hour ago and he still isn’t here. Hope he gets here soon or I may curl up in this comfy sofa and close my eyes and forget where I am. Jet lag you are not welcome here!
4:45 and still no reunion. I have the address of the flat we are staying in so I take the Heathrow Express to Paddington and from there have no energy left to find this place on my own so I take a taxi. I ask for his phone and call the person that is renting us the place. Leave him a message. He calls back (on the cabbie’s phone) and will meet me at 6:00. He’s there when I arrive. Lets me in and I have the pleasant surprise of a charming flat. Tutu finds his spot.
And as an extra good surprise I get an email from Dean saying that he has not found me at the airport and he is on his way. Only a few minutes later we reunite.
Nice start to our Europe trip.