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6:30 AM, GMT:   Wake up call.  (Well, a knock, really.  I got knocked up at 6:30 AM in a Manchester hotel room.)

7:15 AM, GMT:  Return rental car, check in at airport for scheduled 8:55 AM take-off.  I like to get to the airport early.  I find the frustration and boredom of being slumped over in an airport departure lounge far easier to take than the heart-stopping suspense that accompanies cutting arrival times close.

8:30 AM  GMT:  Board BMI flight to London Heathrow.  Captain tells us "We'll be taking off very shortly and providing there are no delays getting into Heathrow, we should get you there in plenty of time to make any connecting flights."   The gods chuckle.

9:20 AM  GMT:   Finally in the air.  Pleasant one hour jaunt to Heathrow.  From the air, Heathrow looks like someone kicked over and anthill in a sandbox where kids had been playing with model airplanes.  It is the busiest place I have ever seen or been in.

10:30 GMT:  Board bus from Heathrow Terminal 3 to Terminal 1.  Stomach knotted.  See point above about heart-stopping suspense.

10:40 GMT:  Main departure lounge at Heathrow.  Sign says "To get to Gate 28, allow ten minutes walking time".  Plane boards in 15.  Where the hell is Duty-Free?

... and oh, great, a line-up at the registers.  Grab some fine single malt, get through the registers, and note that the sign indicates they are closing off my flight. 

Remember the old O.J. commercials for Hertz, where he dashes through an airport to catch a flight and murder his wife?  Well, O.J. wasn't slugging a laptop and forty ounces of amber nectar and he was running on a straightaway, not through the hideously crowded shambles that is Heathrow.

10:55 AM GMT:  Arrive at the gate to piercing glares from my daughter, who had gone on ahead.  As I arrive, they announce that the plane " ... will be boarding by seat and row number, so if you could please have your boarding cards and passports ready for inspection ...".  I look at Allison and say "What?  I knew I had time..."  A trickle of sweat stings my eye.  She shakes her head and rolls her eyes.

11:30 AM GMT:  Takeoff.  Plane full.  Movie is "A Good Year" with Russell Crowe, which I didn't expect to enjoy but which was rather charming.  Second movie was a classic James Bond - "Diamonds Are Forever", which is impossible to watch without chuckling at since the Austin Powers movies.  I seriously kept expecting Blofeld to bring his pinkie to the corner of his mouth and order James into the tank with the sharks with laser beams on their heads.

2 PM  AST:  Six hours in the air, four time zones later, we arrive.  My ass feels like it's the size of Indiana.

3 PM AST:   Get through Customs, and into my car, which was parked at the end of the row and had obviously been clipped by someone who didn't leave a note.  Bastard.  Nothing to be done, so we hit the road to P.E.I.

6:30 PM AST:  Home.  Quick hugs all around before my wife has to take off to her pottery class.

6:55 PM AST:  Turn on my computer.  NOW I'm home.

10:30 PM AST:  Or 2:30 in the morning, according to my body clock.  Into the hot tub, sky clear, Orion looking down, the world is back on its axis.

11:00PM AST:  Slide into bed.

11:01 PM AST:  Asleep.  In my own bed.  In my own home.  Life is good.

Comments

[William]

I am glad to see you are back safe and sound.

[wordgirl]

I just rolled out of bed about 45 minutes ago, but after reading this post I think I'm tempted to crawl between the sheets and lapse into a lovely state of unconscious. Glad you're back. The internets were strangely empty in your absence.

[wordgirl]

unconsciousness. sorry.

[Laura]

Reading this post just tired me out! Welcome home guys!

[Katie]

Well.. glad your home and all that..(I have missed your posts!) but I just wanted to comment that I randomly read the blogs you have linked here, have found quite a few that I read every day, and I chose AmandaB today thinking that maybe she started a new site...(I remember your post about her quitting and why..) so I clicked on the link and was redirected to.... a Kenny Rogers site! Strange. Just strange.

[sara sue]

Welcome home Lings!

Amanda B. was really Kenny Rogers all along?!

[kalki]

Thank god you're back. Things have been way too quiet and well-behaved in the blogosphere.

[platypus]

I'm glad you're back safe and sound. I certainly didn't envy you that last day of travel...

Now, do you think that amzing bruschetta you made last week would survive in the mail? Otherwise you'll have to come back and make me some more. I have withdrawal symptoms already...

[Bucky Four-Eyes]

I hate cutting it close with travel, especially air travel. If I ever have to travel that way again on a regular basis, it will likely give me a heart attack.

Now I'm confused, though; I thought Amanda B. was really Lionel Richie.

[CircusKelli]

So, lemme get this straight. You're running behind, yet you still squeeze in a stop at the duty free shop for booze? You deserved every second of that mad dash you made to the plane.

[Allie]

Kelli: And hence the eyeroll he got when he finally made it to the plane. I totally would have boarded without him.

[kalki]

I get pissed at Rob when he's in the bathroom when they start to call for boarding...I can't imagine my wrath if he'd been buying booze.

[Nils Ling]

"Booze"? It wasn't "booze". It was fifteen year old single malt scotch, aged in wood casks seasoned with madeira and available at duty-free prices. For that, you risk missing a plane.

"Booze" indeed.

[sara sue]

Well worth missing a silly flight for!

[kalki]

Booze.

[The Kept Woman]

Whew...I was beginning to think you might have fallen off the face of the Earth...or eaten some really bad Bangers and Mash...