Saturday, May 4, 2024. Heading home.

 I don't think I needed the alarm. I was pretty much packed from the night before - just needed to throw my pajamas in the suitcase and I was done.

We had tickets on the Heathrow Express back to the airport. They don't have a set time. A train leaves Paddington Station every 15 minutes. Our hotel was about ½ mile away from that station, but with heavy, full suitcases and carry-on bags, I wasn't going to complain about the Uber Cynthia summoned for us.

 The Uber dropped us off at the taxi area on the back of the station. Until now, we'd only gone through the pedestrian entrance on a different street. We had to take an elevator down one level from the street. The station on this side was unusually quiet. Luckily, there were signs on the floor leading you to either the Heathrow Express or the regular Tube trains, so we didn't struggle for more than a couple of minutes before figuring out where to go.

 We passed through the automatic gates that scanned our tickets and were between two trains. A man ran past us and hopped on the train to the left. We had first-class tickets, so I didn't want to just hop on a train without orienting myself, so we walked down the platform toward some workers. The train the man jumped on left while we were walking.

 I approached a worker, showing him my ticket and he said, "Why are you showing me your ticket? Just get on a train." Well, on the other end, at the start of the journey, I needed to show my ticket before getting on to the train in a first-class car. This guy didn't care what we did and was angry to be approached by someone. Ah, London. Thank you for bookending my vacation with angry workers who are resentful they have to do jobs.

 We got on the remaining train, in one of the first-class cars, and sat down. We started out alone in the car, but one man did hop on before the train departed. He sat a good distance away from us, which was good because he was coughing.

 After a quick train journey, we found ourselves back at the airport. I tried once again to check-in at one of the automatic kiosks, but was given a card to report to an agent instead of a boarding pass. Cynthia got her boarding passes. I was ushered through to the back-checking agents and they were able to print my boarding passes after informing me that I would have to go through customs and security in Dallas before continuing to Burbank. I don't know why I needed extra waring while my sister didn't, but whatever.

 The security line was a little bit different than in the US. There were tables where you could search through your carry-on bag before going through the scanners, to make sure you didn't forget any liquids or electronics. We didn’t stop here, since I think we both knew where our extra scan required items were in our bags and we could easily find and remove them.

 Even though in Burbank I didn't have to take my phone or iPad out of my bag, I had to in London. But I didn't have to take my shoes off. You only had to take your shoes off if you were asked to do so. I made it through the security scan with no problems. Cynthia was no so lucky. Her bag was flagged in the x-ray machine and she had to stand with an agent while he searched through her bag for whatever had looked suspicious. I sat and waited. It was a rattail comb in her bag that had looked like a knife. And she had too many liquids so they threw a couple of them away. 

We sat at our gate, and only had about 30 minutes left until the airplane would start to board. Good thing we did give ourselves the full 3 hours they suggested to get through the airport because apparently that wasn't an exaggeration. I got a tea at Starbucks and a Coke for Cynthia at a newsstand. We were in the second-to-last boarding group, so had to wait while watching almost everyone else get on the plane. Airlines - window seats should go first! I don't understand the stupid way that people are loaded onto planes.

 This time the flight was full. There were no empty middle seats. And this wasn't a redeye flight. We left London at 1:10 PM and I was scheduled to arrive in Burbank at around 9 PM.

 My vegetarian lunch this time was a little better - not vegan. It was also the same as the vegetarian option all of the passengers had, but I was given my tray early to make sure they didn't run out of that selection. It was paneer in curry with rice, a chocolate brownie, a bread roll and quinoa coleslaw. The snack later in the day was less appetizing - a toasted pastry filled with zucchini and marinara sauce. I only took a couple of bites of that one. Yuck. 

 

I watched three movies on this leg. The Beekeeper: terrible writing and acting, but not bad enough to turn off. Bullet Train: by the same guy who directed The Fall Guy. I liked it overall. Aaron Taylor-Johnson was very good and I would have preferred that his character not die, even though he was a bad guy. Brian Tyree Henry was also excellent. It was pretty good. I took a break and wrote up a lot of this travel memoir, even though my keyboard had died and I had to enter it on the little keyboard on the iPad screen. With just over 1 ½ hours remaining, I watched Relax, I'm From the Future because it fit the time constraints. It was ok, but had some confusing logic in it. Best not to think too much about it. It was short and not didn't require a lot of thought to watch.

 Back in the US, we had to go through customs at Dallas/Fort Worth (DFW). Luckily, the line for citizens was shorter than the line for people visiting the country, so we got through the customs line pretty fast. Nothing to declare!

 Then we had to go collect our suitcases and drop them off in a different location. It seemed stupid, but I guess it was just to make sure that there weren't unclaimed bags getting on plane transfers. I got an email that a lot of suitcases didn't make the flight, so to not freak out if our suitcases were there. Luckily, they both made it. I would have been surprised if they didn't considering how early we got to Heathrow.

 From dropping off our suitcases, we had to go back through a security line. This line was long. It was estimated to take 20 minutes from a place in the line that was still 15 minutes away from us. That's how they counted it as far as I could tell. They didn't just say, "From here, it is 35 minutes." Nope. Fifteen minutes from here to where it will be another 20 minutes. This is where it started to look like we might not make our connections. I was still optimistic, but things could go south.

 We finally got to the scanning area and this time, I was the one who got pulled aside for a bag search. I had packed a lot of tea in my carry-on, because it was heavy, and the tins looked suspicious. A TSA worker pulled all the tea out of my bag and swabbed the containers. He put the swab in a scanner and it set off an alarm! He had to call a supervisor over. My sister, worried she'd miss her connection, left me at security. I wasn't bothered. The supervisor and original TSA worker opened all of my unopened teas and said, as they looked into each one, "That's tea." They swabbed them one at a time and this time the alarm didn't go off. They offered to pack my bag for me, but I said I would do it.

 I packed my bag and found my gate. I then went into the toilet and removed my compression socks. I hate them! I only left them on this long because I knew I'd be taking my shoes off at DFW for the security line and didn't want to walk barefoot on the airport floor.

 I was getting email updates for both my flight and my sister's flight. Both flights were delayed and kept changing gates. My flight left at least an hour late, so worrying about the long security line was a waste of time. The delays were weather related. There were big storms all across the country. As a result, the flight to Burbank was bumpy to an uncomfortable degree. I was relieved when we landed safely. My friend who had been watching my cats picked me up and drove me home. All of my cats, except for Shio, came out to see me as soon as I got home. My house was just even messier than I left it. The cats knocked a couple of chairs over, but everything was fine.

 I had been up for close to 24 hours by then, and fell asleep pretty quickly. Glad to be home. My vacation this time was short enough, though, that I'm not swearing off traveling again like I did in 2014. The flights were brutal, but I could see doing it again under the right circumstances. The right circumstances might have to be saving up to fly business class, though.

 The end.

(The cookies from M&S that were delicious and beautiful.)

(Diva happy to have me home.)

 

(Flight path home.)

Saturday, April 27, 2024. Off we go.

 

The last time I traveled overseas was in 2014. That’s ten years ago now. When I planned that trip, I had just turned 40 and needed surgery. I had to have a breast tumor removed. I didn’t know what the biopsy results would be, so I thought I should plan a big trip in case my life was about to change for the worse. The tumor turned out to be benign, so that worked out. You can read all about that trip on my blog elsewhere. This should be the first entry, if you want to revisit that vacation:

(https://www.camillesharon.com/2014/11/trip-to-europe-november-2014.html)

I have been planning the current trip since around February 2019. I thought I’d be spending my birthday in April 2020 traveling to Amsterdam, London and Paris. And then we all know what happened. At least I hadn’t booked anything when the world looked like it was going to shut down and then did shut down in 2020. I had another surgery in late 2020, so it was just as well that I didn’t go on a big vacation that year. Can't wait to find out what surgery I'm going to need in another 10 years or so!

I originally planned to be on vacation for my actual birthday in 2024 - 50 this time. But that was the weekend of the London Marathon. So here I am, on a plane the week after my birthday. 

No trip would be complete without a few little panics along the way. The first little panic of the trip was when my friend who was giving me a ride to the airport (I insisted she do it, she didn’t really want to) was exposed to COVID on her vacation the week before. No ride from her. She’s at home sick with COVID right now. My producing partner on The Lola LaRue Variety Show, Diana, agreed to give me a ride, so that crisis was averted pretty quickly. Since I wasn't sure if the COVID panic would have passed by the time I needed a ride home from the airport, I asked another friend to pick me up.

I have been walking 10,000 steps a day for 43 weeks now, but didn’t have time in the morning before my flight what with all of the packing and last-minute cleaning (LOL, you couldn't tell), so while waiting to board my flight, I walked up and down the terminal at the Burbank Airport. It is about 400 steps each way for anyone playing along at home. I was able to get to 6,000 steps done before my flight. I got an email notification that my sister's flight from San Antonio to Dallas, where we were connecting for the London flight, was delayed. Another little panic, but the delay, so far, was not bad enough to cause any real problems. We were sort of talking about getting something to eat during the layover, so I would just be on my own if I wanted to eat.

 I booked window seats for all four legs of my flight on this trip. On the leg from Burbank to Dallas, I shared the row with a gay couple. The man seated in the center seat had lifted the armrest before I got there. After I sat down, he left the armrest lifted. Weird! Since the Jim Jeffries rules of flying mean the center seat gets two armrests, I didn’t touch it. If he wanted it up, it was his anyway. The aisle man was watching Curb Your Enthusiasm on his phone with subtitles on for the whole flight, and the center man watched it over his shoulder. Weird again! The flight didn’t have view screens on the seats, but the airline offered movies and TV shows over wi-fi on your own device. I watched Ted Lasso Season 3 episode 1. Not impressed enough to watch the second episode, and without enough time remaining to start a movie, I just sat. I was surprised the men in my row weren’t more chatty. I’m always willing to chat with people on the plane.

 We landed in Dallas and I had to change to the International Terminal. According to the Internet, my sister’s flight, which was delayed again, was now leaving any minute from San Antonio - after I had already arrived in Dallas. Our flights were supposed to arrive in Dallas 1 or 2 minutes apart. There was still time for her to make the flight, maybe? Even though my flight landed early, we sat on the plane waiting for a gate for a long time and by the time I got to the International Terminal I only had about 30 minutes to kill before boarding started. I didn’t realize it was going to take 45 minutes to board the flight. Lots of seats to fill on a double-decker plane. My sister's chances of making the flight were looking worse by the minute.

 Everyone coming from a connecting flight had to go to the desk and get a new boarding pass and have their passport looked at one more time. I asked the man at the desk if he had any insider information, what with working at an airport, about what might happen when a flight with several people making a connection is running so late. He bluntly said that my sister will miss the flight. They close the gate at 7:00 (for a 7:30 departure) and she would either make it or she wouldn’t. He was rude. Not a great start to my trip to England to encounter a rude English man while still on American soil.

(This is me in the art installation, walking.)

 I wanted to get a higher step count for the day, but not wander too far away, so I hung out around the gate area walking in a circle around an art installation while checking my phone for updates on my sister’s flight. I was too nervous to scrounge for food. I saw that another flight to London, on a different airline, was departing in about 2 hours. Should I try to rebook onto that flight in case she doesn’t make it to this one and gets on that one? Should I just not get on this flight and pretend I missed it, too? They knew I had checked in, so maybe they would hold the door for me if I didn't get on the plane on time. What if I rebook and she does make it and then I’m stuck on a later flight. Not making a decision is the same as making a decision. I paced.

 The boarding started. My sister wasn’t there yet. Group after group was called. I was in group 8, so nearly the last group to board. My sister texted. She had landed and was on the tram between terminals. I had timed the tram while riding on it, and it took 13 minutes. Boarding was scheduled to close in 10 minutes. I didn’t get in line when my group came up and instead went back to the counter to let them know my sister, Cynthia, was a few minutes away. I walked up and said, “I have a question.” “Give me your boarding pass,” the woman behind the counter answered. “I just wanted to ask a question.” She snapped back, “I won’t answer anything without your boarding pass.” I gave her my boarding pass. She ignored me then, tapping away at the computer, until, “You're checked in. Please go through.” “But I wanted to ask a question.” “What?” “My sister is like 2 minutes away. Her flight was late. Will she be able to board?” “Not if she is a minute late. Now get on the plane!” Second rude English person, still not out of the USA.

 I reached the plane. My seat was on the starboard side of the plane and we boarded on the port side. The flight attendant tells me to “go through when I can.” I walk past the first galley walkway, where another flight attendant is working, blocking the passage, and the first flight attendant acts like I’m an idiot, pulling me back to that walkway. Language barrier! When "I can go through" to me means that I’m to continue through the plane until I come to an empty passage. Apparently, it meant to wait for the flight attendant to finish whatever she was doing and go through there. All right, first flight attendant, I know you think I’m an idiot. I’m never seeing you again anyway.

 I found my seat and before I sat down, a woman on the aisle of the center seat sections asked if I wanted to change seats with her, to have an aisle. I tell her as politely as possible that I paid extra for the window seat, so…no. I settled in. The flight isn’t full. The middle seat on my row remained empty. I didn't know if my sister would make it. I considered telling the woman hoping for a window seat that the seat in front of me, my sister’s seat, might be empty. I wondered what I’ll do when I arrive in London alone. How will I get the Heathrow Express ticket to my sister for when she lands the next day, or later in the same day, depending on what happens if she can’t get on the flight? But then, a miracle, she’s standing in the aisle on the flight!

 My sister went up to the same rude people I had encountered and was pleading with them to get on the plane. She finally said something to the effect of, “But my sister’s on the plane!” and they let her through. Oh, yes, they remembered me bugging them. They let her board. Relief! I didn’t have to worry about how we were going to connect up in London. The middle seat in her row was also empty for the whole flight. At least the flight would be a little bit more comfortable than it otherwise might have been with empty seats beside us.

 Each seat back had a screen with something like 140 film options and a few dozen TV show episodes available. I watched Anyone But You - an adaptation of Much Ado About Nothing with bad acting and bad writing that still wasn't too bad - and Mission Impossible Dead Reckoning Part One - hey, it was long if nothing else - and maybe that was it? I started Marcel the Shell with Shoes On, but had to focus on not vomiting and didn't watch the whole thing. I don't remember if I tried to watch anything else. It was a redeye flight, but I am not great about sleeping on planes. I am great at sitting and doing nothing, though.

 I pre-ordered vegetarian meals, which apparently meant vegan on this leg of my trip. Oops! Of the two entrees they served for regular dinner and breakfast service, one was always just vegetarian, and probably would have tasted better. I was surprised that all of the English-owned travel I did on this trip where a meal was involved, there was always one vegetarian option. Horray! And better than the US is with this. Dinner was soggy and hot zucchini, squash, eggplant and red peppers, frozen bread, water, and a coconut mystery dessert with something yellow in the middle of it. It wasn’t very good. Breakfast was even worse. A breakfast burrito filled with red peppers, cauliflower and spinach. I was incredibly airsick by then, and just the smell of it made me want to vomit. Well done, British Airways, for making disgusting food!

 I tried for about an hour to sleep, but no joy. Because it is spring and we fly toward the north, the window screens were all closed for most of the flight to keep the cabin incredibly dark. But we made it to London.

'Ello, London

November 16

I checked out of the hotel in Nice, leaving a little thank you gift for Vanya for being so helpful, and got a "transfer" taxi to the airport. It was an absolutely beautiful morning.

I didn't take the time to get any breakfast before heading to the airport, so I tried to get a snack out of a vending machine, but it ate my money, dropping me down to under 4 Euros remaining in cash. I went to a coffee shop and broke down, using a credit card to get a pain au chocolat and a Coke. The plane had a vegetarian hummus sandwich option, so at least I wasn't going to be starving by the time I got to London.

I arrived at Gatwick airport and bought a ticket on the Gatwick Express train which took me to Victoria Station in Central London. From there I had to use the underground (I guess I could have taken a taxi...) to find the stop nearest my hotel (Lancaster Gate) and then make my way on foot to my hotel. Sounds like a great plan, but I had no idea there would be so many steps in the subway stops, and I guess since it was Sunday, all of the trains I got on were extremely crowded, which with my suitcase was not the easiest.

Once I got to my stop and made it outside I had no idea where to go. There were no maps inside the station. Outside on the street there was a map, but as I would learn with all maps in London, it was terrible. There was a woman from Thailand looking the map as well and we learned we were both looking for the same street, so we decided to walk together. Well... We almost walked to Paddington station, which was not correct at all. We asked several people on the way if they knew where our street was. The first three people were Russian and had no idea. The next woman was American and had a general idea because she remembered seeing it not that long ago. She suggested we head in a certain direction and ask again. We did. Finally we met someone who gave us correct directions and asked a woman with a buggy if she knew where the numbers we needed were. She had no idea and just told us to look. Thanks, lady in London. We otherwise wouldn't have thought to look at street numbers. Not that it helped. We were at number 2 and I needed 99, which was at the end of the block. But the Thai woman needed 50, which was somehow not on that block at all.

I didn't stick with the Thai woman once I got to my hotel. Sorry, Thai woman! On a side note, she was just switching hotels for the night because she was planning a divorce from her Englishman husband who she was afraid would find her if she stayed in the same hotel for more than one night. She also booked the room through a friend. Her advice? Never get married.

I checked into the hotel and went up to my room. Which was huge! The biggest hotel room I had on my trip. A double bed and a single bed, which just became the place I put stuff. There was a very small TV and a desk, with all that you needed for a proper cup of tea, including biscuits. It was early in the day and I had nothing planned, so I decided to do some exploring. The underground ticket I bought was good all day, so I was set.

I went downstairs to the lounge (the only place with internet access in this hotel) and I wasn't able to connect because there were too many users. I sat there for about 45 minutes trying to connect, then gave up. I had to go back up to my room to drop off my iPad before doing anything else.

I asked at the front desk where I might find some famous stores I had been advised to visit - Selfridges, Harrods, Marks and Spenser, etc. The front desk people (one who was French, and one who didn't seem to know the city) snickered at me. "Are you serious?" They suggested I should go to Kensington Palace and see if I could see Kate and baby George. Um... I can think of nothing less interesting sounding to do. Reluctantly they told me which underground stop to get off of and gave me "just walk that way" kind of directions.

I got off the train at Oxford Circus, I think, and was in the heart of a huge shopping district. I found Selfridges and went in. I found Marks and Spenser and skipped it. I walked for a bit and then got back on the train and headed to the south side of the park to Harrods, near which I also found Harvey Nichols. I stopped in to Harvey Nichols and had high tea, which was adorable. I walked in and out of Harrods, not really in the mood for more shopping, and made my way back to the hotel. Dinner was in my room, eating the leftovers from my high tea - which were plentiful.

Internet in the hotel was working in the evening, so I was finally able to check in with the world before going to sleep - making sure to still be fully in my street clothes and shoes for lounge internet time.

Paddington Bear is all over the city.

A Christmas display at Harrods, I think.