British Airways and Heathrow all day.

After an entire day of packing, running errands, and double checking papers, I told America I’d had enough and got the F out. I yoke, but really I just left last night and I’m sitting in foggy london town at Heathrow airport. So here’s what’s up.

I said goodbyes with the family at the front of Dulles, loaded up with my camera bag (nerd), obnoxiously heavy backpack (big nerd), and even heavier duffel for checking (idiot). I got to the ticketing counter with a few beads of sweat on my brow, lugging that noise all of 20 feet. “I can’t even put this on the plane, and I’m still gonna charge you extra if you take out a few pounds,” says the clerk. Lovin’ every bit of the start of this trip. So I went to a stupid travel accessories kiosk around the corner and bought a new duffle shifted some clothes around and made it work.

The international terminal at Dulles is pretty cool. Real happy with the train system they put in to replace the old space shuttle looking buses they used to have. I met some brits waiting to board the delayed flight now scheduled for take-off at 10:45, and we were chaps in no time. Chaz and Shawn were there names, father and daughter. He likes Manchester United (what a SELLOUT!) and she likes Inception and Harry Potter. Both weren’t expecting much out of England in South Africa, and both told me a british slang term that I need to dive a little deeper into: “Chav”. The way they talk about it it sounds like a term used to describe people who wear full nike or adidas jumpsuits and big chains and have, as Chas describes it, “a particular way of speaking”. I’ll report any further details as the journey continues.

I stepped on the plane and walked past the welcoming accent of the probably gay flight attendant, and found out my seat was the very last aisle seat next to the washroom. 39 J. I had plenty of room to spread out after the 12 year old sitting next to me moved up to sit wif ees mum. In the backseat flap I found the usual couple in flight magazines, but an extremely unusual (to my american eyes) bag of socks, toothpaste and mouthwash. I thought it was some kind of sick joke, but I looked around and everyone had taken their shoes off before take-off, so I indulged.

The British Airways commercials make you think you’ll be in heaven in their chairs. False. They suck. But their flight attendant service is great. I got a little mini bottle of wine for free with my in flight meal of chinese chicken and a passionfruit mango cheesecake dessert. Just delightful. After I ate I was out within about 10 minutes and woke up about 2 hours later to a greasy haired lad in “9th year” in school saying “excuse me”, and nudging his way into my aisle. He said the TV in front of his chair stopped working so he had to take the seat next to me to watch the rest of his movie. Whatever queer…(didn’t say that).

Around 8 hours came and went, and I arrived here in Heathrow airport, thoroughly confused and very aware of the people around me. I don’t know what it was, but I was real uncomfortable with everyone within a 5 foot radius. Lots of people reminded me before I left to watch out for pickpockets and douchebags, so that’s what I’m doin’.

I’ll be leaving for Zurich in the next hour or so, and meeting up with a few friends I’ll be going to school with in Riva San Vitale. Ciao!

1 year ago  /  1 note