My last day in the UK began in the rain, but ended with sunshine.
I showered and dressed, and scoured my room to make sure everything was packed and ready to go. Satisfied that this was the case, I left my room with my baggage, and headed to the lift to the Main Lobby. I paid what was left on my bill, and bid the brilliant staff at the Crowne Plaza St James a fond 'au revoir' (or however it is said by the British!). I assured them that I would return to stay with them again; the whole staff, from desk people to Spa 51 and bell-men, were incredible. A bell-person assisted me with the baggage to the Reception Desk, and I gave him a good tip for the service. The Concierge called a taxi for me, and the bell-person got me and my baggage in the taxi safely. I thanked the bell-person, and waved 'au revoir'.
After telling the cab driver I needed to go to London Paddington station, we were off; at the end of Buckingham Palace Road, we passed in front of the Palace, and I waved a silent 'Good Morning' to the Royals: especially to Prince William and Kate Middleton. I took one last look at sights like the Wellington Arch, Marble Arch, Oxford Street and Hyde Park, as we made our way through London's rush hour. Soon, we arrived at London Paddington station, where the driver (who called me "Luv" a couple of times!) helped me and the baggage out. I gave him a huge tip; he said it was 'too much' and asked 'Are you sure?' I told him he deserved it, for getting me safely to the station. He smiled broadly and said 'Thank you!' He also hoped more Americans like me would visit the UK, if all of them would give such generous tips. I sure hope I made his day.
Once inside London Paddington, I had to get my Heathrow Express train ticket at a self-service kiosk. With a little assistance from another American traveler, I managed to get my ticket, and then followed a clearly-marked path on the floor to the Heathrow Express train platform. I got on a train for Terminal One--but not before taking quick photos of the MIND THE GAP warning (photos left and below right) on the platform outside the door. Those were the last photos I took while on this trip. Soon, we were off for Heathrow Airport.
The ride only took a few minutes. I sat down near the doorway, and watched London go by. As I did, the rain stopped, and the sun broke through. Most riders were quiet, reading newspapers or watching the news on the overhead TVs. I kept my bags close at hand, and didn't say much of anything. Before long, we reached Terminal One at Heathrow; I got off the train, walked down a long corridor, up two escalators, and then into the terminal. I stopped at a bank to change my remaining British Pounds for US dollars (remarkably, I was leaving with money to spare!), and then looked out for the US Airways check-in. It was another exercise in frustration, with those self-service check-in kiosks like I had in Syracuse. But I managed to find a human staffer, who directed me where to go. In this Security area, I was asked if I packed my bags myself (yes), and did I accept a parcel from anyone in the airport (no). This person was very nice. But she almost put a sticker on my checked-in bag for Fort Worth, Texas!!! Thankfully, I caught it in time, and showed her the error; she changed it to Philadelphia. I would pick up this bag in Philadelphia, in order to go through US Customs.
Next came the various layers of Security, and the UK Border check: time to strip off coat, camera case, and bags, and put them on the conveyor belt for X-ray. Thank heavens it wasn't crazy-busy yet, but you still have to be on the ball to get all this stuff through the machine! The coat, camera bag and gift bag came through just fine; my backpack was checked separately by a very kind lady, who was wearing a 'Help For Heroes' lanyard round her neck. I noticed it, and told her what a great UK military support group it is. And she told me she has a son in the British Army, and he was on leave from Afghanistan now; however, he would be returning there soon. I wished her and her son well, and gathered my stuff for the walk to the Departures area.
When I arrived in the Departures area, I was most pleasantly surprised: there were many upscale shops selling clothes, cosmetics, and food, for starters. And to top it all off: there were nice clean W.C.'s close by I was almost tempted to buy some expensive chocolate! Instead, I bought a turkey-and-cranberries sandwich, with orange juice to wash it down. This was my breakfast, as I didn't have time to get anything to eat in London. I sat down near the food area and munched, and watched checked-in passengers going to and fro. The food was very good, and it helped settle my growling stomach. I also stopped at a nearby Boots chemist shop, and bought some anti-shine ointment for my face. I tried it in the W.C., and it really felt nice and cool.
The time soon came for me to go find the Departure Gate for my flight to Philadelphia. Once again, it was another really long walk: more long corridors and moving sidewalks to navigate. It felt like I was walking to the other side of the world--plus my souvenir bag and backpack felt heavier than ever. But eventually I found the gate, and checked in. It was fairly quiet at first, but little by little, more passengers began to arrive.
Eventually, my seating 'zone' was called (the last one to be called), and I followed the herd to the plane; I found my window seat quickly, and put my souvenir bag and coat up in the overhead compartment, and the backpack beneath the seat. My seatmate, an older American woman, wasn't very talkative. But I didn't mind much. I had a lot to reflect on about my UK/Europe journey, and I didn't feel much like chattering. It was nice to be going home to the USA. But I knew I would be missing the UK and Belgium, and all the people I had met along the way.
As the plane lifted off the runway, I gazed out the window at the scene below: the far outskirts of London, and the green countryside--and remembered the day I arrived in England, and how excited I was, pointing out famous London landmarks. This time, my seat faced the southern side of London's suburbs: lots of council flats and twisting roads, and then the rolling and green countryside. Soon, we were high above the clouds, but I could still see the UK coastline, until we were finally over the Atlantic Ocean. I tried to settle down to sleep, but it's hard to get comfortable in a narrow coach seat, with little front leg room. My feet and legs started feeling 'twitchy', from being confined. I envied those in Business or First Class; at least they could stretch out their legs!
About an hour or so into the flight, the cabin crew had us shut the window shades, so passengers could sleep. I only dozed for short periods; others were fast asleep, or listening to their iPods or watching movies on their little 'private' screens. You have to pay for that privilege now, which is ridiculous. Instead, I had some fun watching a GPS screen you could tune into, showing the flight plan of the plane. It showed the locations of ocean 'banks'--and wreck sites of famous ships like RMS Titanic in April 1912, RMS Lusitania in May 1915--and even CSS Alabama in June 1864! Granted, it was a bit bizarre to be seeing shipwreck sites pinpointed on a flight map. But it sure was better than seeing nothing.
Lunch was provided about halfway across the Atlantic. It was enough to keep the 'growlies' from getting too bad. I just hoped my bladder would hold out until we got to Philadelphia....! I didn't feel like waiting in line for the airline toilets. Not much conversation was held between me and my seatmate. She was sleeping most of the time. I contented myself with watching the GPS map, and counting the miles as we got closer to the North American continent. And it seemed to take FOREVER to get there!
Soon, however, I noticed we were crossing over land; according to the map, we were over Eastern Canada: Nova Scotia (where I waved a silent 'hello' to my friend David in Halifax) and New Brunswick. And then we flew parallel to the coast of Maine, one of my favorite US states to visit. Then we passed over Cape Cod, and back out over the Atlantic, until we reached the New Jersey shoreline. No one was on the beach (it was still sunny, but I imagined it was too cold to be out walking) as we flew inland. Soon we were approaching the Philadelphia airport; as we came in, I saw both Lincoln Financial Field (home of the NFL's Philadelphia Eagles) and Wells Fargo Center (home of the NBA's Philadelphia 76ers and the NHL's Philadelphia Flyers), and the skyline of downtown Philadelphia. It was hard to believe I was almost back on US soil.
The flight pretty much landed on time; it was still daylight outside. But I now faced yet another long walk inside the terminal--this time, to go through US Customs. The lines for Customs were full; I don't know if we were the only passengers going through. As we stood in line, a Customs staffer came alongside, with her contraband-sniffing beagle. The dog trotted alongside us and sniffed all our bags, in search of drugs, weapons, illegal fruit or veggies, etc.. It was a great temptation to pat this little fellow and fuss over it. But the beagle was 'on duty', and not to be distracted. He sure was cute.
When I got to the Customs table, I handed the staffer the Customs forms I filled out on the plane, stating what I had bought in the UK and Europe, and how much it cost. Unfortunately, everything I'd bought was in either British Pounds or Euros, and I didn't know what it translated to in US dollars. In all, I filled out five US Customs forms. And that irritated the staffer very much, because HE had to do the US dollar conversion. I bet I made his day (NOT!). Thankfully, I was able to get through Customs and go to Baggage Claim; I found my suitcase in the Baggage Claim fairly quickly, and then got in yet another line for Security: time to take off the coats, camera bags and backpacks again. And let's not forget the shoes..... The lines moved not fast, but not too slow. But you still have to be on the ball to get everything off that's going into the X-ray machine, and keep moving forward. I got through the metal detector just fine, and was able to grab my stuff and move on. I kept hoping my big suitcase and I would find each other in Syracuse....
With boarding pass in hand, I walked through the crowds, to find the shuttle bus that would take me to the domestic US Airways terminal. It came along quickly, and I got aboard. It was dark by now, as the driver skillfully made his way to the right terminal. I got off and found the right gate for my flight to Syracuse...after yet another long trudge. I sure was getting my exercise today! I gratefully sat down in the waiting area---and discovered my flight home was being delayed. JOY....! I was running on adrenaline and managing to stay awake. But I knew that, eventually, I would crash with exhaustion. I found my US mobile phone and called my sister Joanne, to tell her the flight was delayed, but not for a long delay.
Sitting in that waiting area, I realized I was back in the Land of the Rude American. Three men were seated near me talking very loudly amongst themselves, and a businesswoman on a Bluetooth device and a laptop computer was yapping on and on, like she was talking to herself. I like technology as much as most people. But too many have no sense of privacy anymore; it's irritating being in earshot of someone else's business. I tried my darndest to shut it out mentally.
At long last: the plane for Syracuse arrived. My seat was way in the back, right by the toilets (lovely). At least it was a window seat, so I could see the sparkling lights in the darkness below me. It was a short flight: just enough time to have a drink and some snacks. Before I knew it, we were landing in Syracuse; I collected my carry-on stuff and got off the plane, and into a nearly-silent terminal. Soon, I saw my sister Joanne, and I almost ran to embrace her. She was happy to have me home. Once again, my suitcase arrived in rapid time at Baggage Claim, and off we went to the Parking Garage, where we put my bags in Joanne's car, and she drove me home. I immediately started chattering on about the trip.
Soon, I was back home at my apartment. We decided to leave the heavy suitcase at the bottom of the inside stairs for the night; it was too much to drag upstairs. Anyway, my brain was becoming much too fuzzy to think straight; all I wanted was a shower and to go to bed. I bid Joanne good night, and thanked her for the transport from the airport, and off I went to meet The Sandman. I would write my reflections about my journey on the morrow in my diary.
