England - an interesting start - Day 1
And we’re off on an epic adventure!
Halfway across the ocean, on our first flight, I feel someone standing in the aisle leaning on me heavily. I look up to see a young woman weaving, reaching out for the seatbacks. Instinctively, I swivel in my seatbelt and reach out awkwardly to catch her as she sinks to the floor.
The woman sitting next to me, with white hair like mine and several pounds heavier, yells out “I’m a nurse, I’m a nurse.” She attempts to stand and throws one of her legs between mine and leans into me…is she seriously trying to climb over me? I barely fit in the miniscule space allotted me by the airlines.
“Why don’t you let me get out first?” I say. But that is easier said than done as the young woman has now sat up and is being helped to her feet, blocking the aisle. As I finally get to my feet, I look at the girl now facing me and ask “How are you doing honey?”
“I need to lay down,” she says, then swivels her back towards me and once again I catch her on the way down. Now, the man sitting in front of the nurse, hands his baby to his wife and says, with almost a sigh, “I’m a doctor,” as he climbs out in socked feet, sporting surf shorts and hairy legs, clearly returning from a much needed vacation.
So things started with a bit of a bang…fortunately it was determined after 10 minutes and a big glass of orange juice that she was probably just a little hypoglycemic and hypotensive.
Gorgeous sunset coming into LA
And so, 24+ hours, three flights and some questionable plane food later, we staggered into Heathrow airport, bleary-eyed and navigated an impressively efficient customs process.
I whipped out my phone with a freshly downloaded Uber app (no need of it in Hawaii) and somehow my blurry brain figured out how to order a car. ‘Arriving in 12 minutes’ - uh oh, arriving where? We all stood, in the mayhem, that is any massive international airport, turning in circles, looking hopeless and helpless.
“Uber?” A kind man asked. I nodded. “Take that lift up one floor, go across the bridge, take the next lift to the third floor and stand by the A column.” I looked at him blankly, “I’m sorry could you repeat that please?” And this time I willed my poor, tired brain to take it in.
Ali arrived, exactly 12 minutes later, pushed his rolled up prayer mat to the side of the trunk and loaded our luggage, then proceeded to terrify us a little bit with his ‘efficient’ driving, narrowly missing pedestrians crossing the street. Although no one seemed to bat an eyelash. I suppose it’s business as usual in a busy major city.
View from our third floor apartment in Westminster. We will discover tomorrow that we got supremely lucky, blindly, renting this apartment for three days in London. It is perfectly, and conveniently located.
