Saturday 26 April 2008

Port of Entry

In all actuality, I did make it home from the five pubs (despite vicious rumours to the contrary) and have been unable to blog due to: a) a severe time shortage, b) a few idiot computer problemos, c) a loss of will and d) a lack of mental balance for getting everything done that needed doing. It is sad, though, because several blogs were stifled (and have now suffocated) during that time; you see, I do compose in my head when something absurd happens, so I am kind of telepathically communicating with my glorious readers all the time :) It is a shame that one cannot telepathically blog, as it would get the stuff out of my head. But the chastisement has worked, so here ya go!

Things that have occurred over the past 20 days:
* My hair has been cut slightly;
* went to a wedding in a castle (Caerphilly Castle, to be precise);
* E has obtained an electric organ for £8;
* it actually fit through his front door (he told it to breathe in as they went through apparently);
* it does not appear to make sound;
* have said, 'Hasta la vista' to my friend, Liz (I think she will get her own blog);
* have planned trips for myself, one colleague, and a bosses boss;
* have skinned my knee;
* have fitted one suitcase inside another for transit to the US (sneaky Bruner);
* and a bunch of other things that I cannot remember because my memory seems to be taking a 5 year sabbatical.

Anyhoo, it has been a manic month (it is too bad it wasn't March, because the alliteration would have been much more effective).

However 10% (almost) of it was spent getting across the pond, so maybe that can be an excuse. This does not include 'getting ready time'. This was actual travel time. And KLM should be beaten. Well, maybe not...

So, I left my clever LUSH bag at my tiny abode at about 9.57am on Thursday (in the fruit basket if not mistaken -- it was supposed to be put in my pocket and taken out post-security for my book and knitting since the 'safety' fascists think it is in some way making you safer to not let you carry a personal item AND a carry-on, regardless of the size of the single item -- WHO sits around and thinks of these arbitrary rules? 100ml, 1 bag, 1 brain. Soon, they will probably decide that only one kidney is allowed for travel, as it might disturb other passengers -- both lung are okay, since they are just full of hot air. But I digress...). Anyhoo, I was early outside and beat the taxi (woo hoo!); and then the tootle towards the States, or maybe it should be saunter towards the States, began.

Firstly, the taxi driver rather had me do a tuck-and-roll out the car since Norwich Airport now charges for any stay over 5 minutes in their car park (since the Edinburgh bombing, there is supremely logically no curbside anymore...). Money grubbing eediots.

Check-in went okay, except for the part where she couldn't check me in for the Amsterdam to Newark flight. Full significance of this became apparent as the flight backed away from the gate without me a few hours later. As I watched bemused (but at the same time happy not to be on the crap Northwest Airlines plane).

My flight arrived in Amsterdam with an hour to get to my next flight, but THEY had oversold the flight and at the end 11 of us were left in the red-headed step-child waiting area, pretty much SOL. As the only non-Dutch speaker (I must learn that language, because you get words like nixt), I was a little behind in figuring out what was being sorted for all of us, although was pretty fairly happy about it all since I ended up a) one of the 5 lucky ones who actually travelled that day, b) with a cash remuneration (!), and c) in Business Class on the Paris to JFK leg! (I heart Business Class).

To careful readers, two discrepancies may have been noted:
* a mention of Paris, which is not a suburb of Amsterdam
* the naming of the WRONG airport in NYC

But, no. Neither of these things are due to the fogging of my brain.

Myself and the two lucky couples made it onto the AirFranch Amsterdam to Paris flight, which then decided to depart 15 minutes late. This was tricksy since there was a 50 minute gap between landing at Charles de Gaulle and departing therefrom. We did however, get a marvelous little snack of smoked salmon on brown bread and a tiny roll with Boursin-type cheese in it -- the French really do know how to feed you.

Upon arrival, and once the slowcoaches started moving off the plane in Paris, about half the people made it from the gangway into the terminal, before the glass doors at the terminal locked. So, there was a solid glassed (except for the floor; don't be daft) gangway of people trying to get into the terminal and people inside the terminal all staring from other floors -- must have been so entertaining for them.

Finally a nice Air France man came and let the cattle out, at which point my sprint began (with 30 minutes and counting). Fortunately, one of the couples caught up with me, so the three of us flailed about Terminals F and E trying to figure out how to read French signage (it is really interesting how even the patterns of directional placement are completely indecipherable in a foreign country -- and just wait til I get to NY metro stations...). We were laughed at by soldiers, we sat on a stationary train for 3 minutes, I was told that I was late as I panted up to the final securite (Vrrrrrrrraiment? I had no idea, but was just running for my vascular health before such a long flight. Putan.).

Upon arriving to the gate about7 minutes before scheduled departure, I discovered a queue of about 250 people. But at least that gave my sweat glands the chance to slow down before getting onto the plane.

Have I mentioned that I heart Business Class? Well, Bear does as well. It gives him room to stretch his tiny legs and not have such bad cramps in his lower back muscles. Of course, I could go on and on, but it is un-Christian to make people envious. Bienvenue a bord!

After a magnificently pleasant flight, we took a lovely driving tour of JFK airport. I swear we drove around the whole airport and crossed several major highways before getting to the gate. Customs and baggage clearance was Super Speedy, due not only to the efficiency of the nice ICE official but also to the welcoming presence of my name in red eraseable marker on a nice big board, which meant that my bag seemed 'unfortunately to still be in Amsterdam'. Or Paris... does it matter?

The good thing was that I didn't have to drag my suitcase onto a train (or four) or to a Rutgers university visit yesterday.

The negative thing was that I had to wear the same clothes and no makeup.

Another good thing is that I now am the Proud Owner of my very own SkyTeam t-shirt made in China (as part of the consolation prize from the Air France baggage desk). Permission was also given for me to spend 100 euros on stuff (I wonder if that includes yarn).

Next (although some of you may have nodded off by now), my skill at estimating accurate cab fare was proven by the $150 + tolls + tip to go from JFK to Iselin, NJ [which I had specifically selected as it was between Newark (that place to which I was supposed to arrive 5 hours earlier) and New Brunswick (where my Friday a.m. appointment was)]. This took about an hour, and the cab driver was terribly nice although he was a total Low Talker made even worse by the fact that the windows were down (meaning that I had to say, 'Eh?' everytime he said anything), and I had to buy a $7.00 turkey sandwich snack bag when I arrived at the Hilton.

One interesting thing: The cab driver said that when he visited England, he was struck by the fact that there are so few trees... and you know, he is right! It is something I haven't really consciously missed, but now that I look around here, there are really sooooooo many trees.

After recounting this, I am now tired and shall have to take a nap. I mean, I WAS up at 6.10am this morning... The tale shall be resumed after my afternoon shopping expedition (depending on the state of the little toe which I think I have broken by slamming it into a sneaky wall).

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