We have been enjoying fabulous weather for the last week or so here in the Pacific Northwest, with far more sun than we normally expect in May and June. Still, I can't help remembering that at this time last year, I was in Europe. My husband, Ron, was sent by Boeing on a business trip to Venice, Italy. Being a supportive wife, I naturally felt it was my duty to join him there (such a sacrifice!). I had to make my own travel arrangements though - all very last minute too. When I found a flight that went through London, I couldn't resist the opportunity to make a stopover in England on my way to Venice. It was quite an adventure and I had a marvelous time. I admit it; I'm still living on the afterglow of that trip. So, let me share with you some excerpts from the diary I kept along the way.
Wednesday, May 28 Ron left for Venice by way of Frankfurt yesterday on the flight scheduled for him by Boeing. His dad, who is going to house-sit for us while we are gone, comes early this morning to drive me to the airport. I’m excited, nervous, convinced I’m forgetting something important, and a little terrified to be traveling so far by myself. Roger drops me off outside the terminal, gives me a good-bye hug, and drives away. I’m on my own with only the butterflies in my stomach to keep me company.
I manage to find the United self-check-in machine, print my boarding pass, and check in my bag. So far so good. The next stop is security where my first blunder is discovered; my tube of sunscreen is over the 2 ounce limit for liquids and cosmetics in carry-on bags. Astutely judging that this violation is the result of inexperience rather than sinister intentions, the nice TSI employee lets me off with a warning and even allows me to keep the contraband item. Mental note to self: transfer the sunscreen to checked bag at London stop-over.
After repacking my lap-top and retrieving the rest of my belongings, I look for the United Airlines VIP Lounge (or whatever they call it). Ron has told me that, because I am flying business class, I will be able to hang out there – where the chairs are cushy and the complimentary refreshments yummy – until my flight is called. I look for it, but I never see the place. So instead I end up grabbing a gourmet breakfast at the McDonald’s counter and settling into a molded plastic chair to wait near my gate.
I have allowed plenty of time (the last thing I wanted was to add to my not-inconsiderable stress level by having to run for my plane) so I’m feeling pretty good. The knots in my innards begin to unwind. I calmly take out my book to read. It’s a long book, and a little dry actually. In fact, I’ve had a hard time getting through it. But I am determined, and I’ll have plenty of time on this trip to finish it. I have more time than I thought right now because they’ve just posted the fact that my plane is delayed.
The first leg of my journey takes me to Denver. My United Mileage Plus card notwithstanding, I’m not a frequent flyer by any means, a fact I cleverly try to hide by maintaining a nonchalant manner, as if I do this kind of thing all the time. Any chance I had of pulling off this charade is lost when our lunch is served and I have to ask the guy next to me where to find my tray table. Additional note to self (and other inexperienced travelers): in first class, it’s usually inside your armrest.
Due to our late departure from SeaTac, our flight is an hour and a half behind schedule. As we approach Denver, the pilot begins calmly giving information to the passengers over the PA system about connecting flights. He starts by instructing “those of you who still have a reasonable chance of making it” what gate their plane is slated to depart from, presumably so they will know in which direction to run when we land. I have no such worries. My awkwardly-long six-hour layover at Denver International has just been revised into a much more-manageable four and a half hour stay. So really, for me, it’s a good thing. I’m on vacation, so I’m thinking the glass is half full. More good news: this time I find the United Red Carpet Club and make myself comfortable there. Then, I’m off again. Next stop: London.
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