|The international terminal at O'Hare. Belgium is 3rd one down on the right!|
|First try: Virgin America.|
|Take 2: Virgin Atlantic. print.|
|Do you ride "on a plane" or "in" a plane? Naw man, you "take" a plane!|
Takeoff scheduled at 6:00 arrived at airport with 2.5 hours to spare, got through no problems. Especially since I had practiced my security choreo last night in my head, I forgot nothing on the way through security! Takeoff at 6:28.
|My seat-mate and me! He didn't talk much...|
There’s SO much to do I don’t know how I’ll ever sleep and finish everything before I land! I found maybe 6 movies I want to watch and 5 television programs. Not to mention all the music I must listen to! I packed my ipod, but I don’t think I’ll need it! LOVE the British accents of the hostesses. A lot of the passengers too. I’ve been talking to myself (as I often do) in various accents of the British Isles.
|Apple juice in a teacup on the PLANE. and of course, Adele.|
|The entertainment featured an option to preview the current |
live productions in London. WAR HORSE
For some reason I always end up sitting on the right side of everything. I think it’s because we always sit on the right side of church. Granny always sits on the right, so Mom did, now I’m subconsciously inclined so to do as well. Needless to say, I’m very comfortable and pleased with my assigned seat on the right side of this plane. Other places I tend to choose the right (as opposed to left) side of: Seat-yourself planes, classrooms, couches, cars, buses, 2 person bathrooms. (This is not an underhanded revelation of my political views. Like I would talk politics in my blog. You wish!)
|The Atlantic Ocean!! (it was night)|
I’ll have to check in at the transit desk once I get to Heathrow to print my boarding pass for Brussels Air, but it looks like we’re going to land about a half an hour early (with 5.5 hours left in my flight), and my Brussels flight leaves at 11 in the morning, so I’ll have plenty of time for a bagel in Heathrow. It’s a small goal of mine to eat a bagel in Heathrow. Hopefully I’ll get a picture.
Got to watch episodes from season 2 (before we lost Karofsky)!
After trying more positions than an advanced yoga class, I fell asleep with my V-cast playlist going and then woke up about 9 songs later because the lights came on. Local time:5:45 Home time: 11:45. No wonder I’m yawning.
“Rahh, rahh, like a dungeon dragon” on my playlist and other American favorites. And a lovely rendition of “and the dreams that you dare to dream really do come true” by Eva Cassidy as well.
|Dinner last night. Airline food is so posh|
Coffee coffee coffee. I don’t even like coffee. But I’m thinkin it’s a good idea for this morning! I dined last evening on beef stew that was actually quite satisfactory. And crumbs from my egg and cheese biscuit fall all over my keyboard.
|Good morning Egg/cheese biscuit|
Thoughts? I have none. That’s pretty cool.
Sun rising at 6.
They have “Grease” in the music selections! Just the one song.
Land in 50 minutes. It is at this point that I must put my computer away.
|The Eye and Parliament|
|On the ground in London|
I guess every flight has it’s crying baby. You’d think I wouldn’t be as surprised every time we begin to descend and a tot starts to scream. Honestly, I don’t mind it, but EVERYONE notices.
The Rotary guidebook said “bring a camera! Use it! But don’t abuse it.”
I think I may be entering the “abuse it” category. Pretend it’s a tumblr.
Sat with a bunch of Irish girls on the bus ride to terminal 1. By eavesdropping, I was reminded that at 8 this morning it was 2 in America! It’s so fun! I mean, all travellers know that time change is simply part of travel, but few glean as much enjoyment from it as I do!
This one terminal is an entire mall in itself. Though, I suppose it is the FIRST terminal…
|Sheer shirt on a mannequin in |
French Connection UK in Heathrow
I lost my baggage check ticket when I went to get my boarding pass from the Brussels Airline counter. The woman there joked with me about it; I started sweating again. I was about to empty backpack when I checked my JEANS pocket. There it was. I leaned over the counter, I said “bloody hell, here it was.” They laughed at me a lot and, you know it was fine the whole time, they had my bag numbers in the system, I just needed the little scraps to confirm it. Anyway, it was quite fun.
|Some sort of beefeater. |
What is this guy?!
|The 1 pence coins are magnetic!|
|Not a bagel, but really, a croissant and |
English tea right in London seemed to suffice.
I run into this problem though, and that is that those people who I show my passport to, I can’t speak in an accent with because they know I’m American. But I slip into anyhow. I hope to convince someone I’m from somewhere in England. And here would be the place to do it. And I’ve got LOADS of time; they don’t even announce the gate numbers until 40 minutes before takeoff. But I shan’t start a conversation with a complete stranger, flight attendants are always too busy, and I can only purchase so much stuff here before I go over budget (I haven’t budgeted anything for Heathrow). So that’s the dilemma.
Could be the last time I hear English for a while… J
I think I’ll go brush my teeth now with the tiny toothpaste I got in my Virgin Airlines goody bag!
Confession time: I’m a bit of an Anglophile. Fortunately for me, J’ADORE Français. And besides, I already know English.