Flight delays are not an unusual event these days. My delayed takeoff is not unbearable.
The flight crew is lovely. The flight itself is bumpy at the start and then … well having missed the window to sleep at takeoff due to turbulence, I never get comfortable enough to sleep.
So I arrive London safe and well and thoroughly exhausted at 9:40 local time. I need to go find the bag they made me check though it absolutely would have fit overhead after all – larger bags did and there was space when I boarded – and then I need to find S.
It’s a bit of a rigamarole and I meet a nice young man from Romania headed back to the airport and home, who has a lot of questions about what he knows about America. Which is mostly from movies and a bit of our recent politics.
I do find S. We muddle our way into the Underground but when we get to our transfer station we realize how few areas have elevators. I have a roller bag, S has two.
We get a cab. We get to a packed hotel, fully expecting to be told that check in is at 3pm and we’ll have to wait because there’s all these people (and one of them is asked to wait).
We have a room available. Thirty minutes later we are catching a quick catnap and then… London awaits!