On Our Way
9:06 AM BST
I'm only writing this to fill time while we wait in the departure lounge. All being well we'll be boarding in 45 minutes, for a 10:30 takeoff.
Everything went pretty smoothly since yesterday's update: Tim got evicted as predicted. We got the last of the packing done with no hassle. We were tired enough to get to sleep early. [Debbie interjects: "you might have got to sleep early -- I didn't because of your snoring"]. We woke up on time (6:15) and the taxi arrived on time (7:15).
At Birmingham Airport, things got off to an inauspicious start: check-in took forever, because the nice lady marked our bags for Orlando. Still, I'd rather waste an hour in check-in making it right, than find myself in Seattle with my bags in Florida. In the meantime, security were twiddling their thumbs, because they'd decided they wanted to check our bags. That's a first for us, but it went without event, even though I'm sure I packed a penknife in the checked-in luggage, which I forgot to declare to the flu-ridden man who asked us all the security related questions.
£5.05 later, for two croissants and two drinks, and here we are in the departure lounge. Waiting. I think I'll fill in the "are you a war criminal" Visa Waiver Form now, to kill some more time.
8:26 PM BST / 2:26 PM CDT
I've looked at clouds from both sides now. Yes, I've flown several times before, but this is the first time I thought of that gag. Actually, while Debbie was in the loo, so I got a go at the window seat, I spent a couple of minutes looking at the clouds below us, and it turns out that, no, I don't know clouds at all. On this occasion there were several layers of clouds, in well defined strata. As we flew past, the parallax scrolling made it look just like a late 1980s Amiga game.
We're sitting in the departure lounge ("concourse") of Chicago O'Hare Terminal 3, waiting for our connection to Seattle. I thought I'd mention that in passing, rather than at the top of the entry, because I wanted to start with the Both Sides Now wisecrack.
What can I say about the plane journey? There was a man a few rows in front of us reading last Sunday's Observer. I found this peculiar. They served us some "Crystal Geyser Natural Alpine Spring Water", "Bottled at the Crystal Geyser Roxane Source in the Mountains of Tennessee". If I understand the meaning of "Alpine" correctly, this doesn't add up. It's possible I don't.
On arrival, we strode purposefully for the immigration desk, and joined the shortest queue. This turned out to be a mistake. What happened was that our queue moved very slowly, and as more people arrived, they were called from the back of the queue to from new queues as new windows opened. As it worked out, we were processed almost last, stressed from the pressure to make the connection (although now we have an hour to spare), and from the humid heat of Chicago.
Once through that, baggage claim and customs, we put our bags in for transfer, and took the electric train to Terminal 3. This is where we find out what's changed in terms of domestic flight security since September 11th (everything?).
Here's what's changed: they actually check your luggage. I only have vague memories from last time, but my impression was that we just breezed onto a plane with barely a glance at our hand luggage. This time we queued for the X-Ray -- it looks as if they haven't yet stepped up their infrastructure to deal with their new found security needs. A few people had their bags searched by hand after the X-Ray. I had to take the laptop out of its bag to be scanned separately, whereupon a nice lady took a swab from it, and analysed that with what appeared to be a mass spectrometer. Or something. It passed. Luckily, I hadn't been playing Solitaire on it recently*.
Our first real shock of the journey was to see a WHSmiths in the terminal. I'm sure we never saw one last time. Have WHSmiths recently branched out into the American market? Have they recently acquired an American company? Have they owned one for a while and only now decided to rebrand? Or have they been here forever, and we walked around with our eyes shut last time? An area for further investigation.
Our second shock was that the departure lounge McDonalds didn't serve Mountain Dew! Why come to America if you can't rot both teeth and brain with Mountain Dew? The unbranded "Snack Bar" didn't have it either, but they did have something called "Mello Yello" which was about the same colour, so we bought some of that on spec. Hmm. It looks like Mountain Dew, it tastes like Mountain Dew, and it's made by Coca Cola, the people who made Mountain Dew. Something is fishy. I won't let this go.
* Birmingham Six joke
3:15 AM (The Next Day) / 7:15 PDT
I shouldn't feel this alert. The Chicago - Seattle flight went without event. I finished reading Aberystwyth Mon Amour, by Malcolm Pryce. It's very good, and deals with the seedy underworld of Aberystwyth in the 1980s. I was there. I had no idea that sort of thing was going on; what the tea cosy shops were fronts for.
Seattle-Tacoma Airport is easy, compared to Chicago. We were a little taken aback, as in previous domestic US flights, to discover that just anyone could wander in off the streets and into the baggage claim area. From there to the buses, the car parks, the car hire, or in our case the taxi rank, was no distance at all. What a pleasant change.
The driver took us straight to our motel: La Hacienda, and we're in. Our room's clean. The shower works. It has a fridge and a microwave, free HBO and Showtime. We've resolved not to go to bed until 9 at the earliest, but after a shower, Debbie pronounces herself to be suddenly tired. I can see her point.
Looking on the bright side, the motel can vending machine stocks Mountain Dew. It turns out Mountain Dew is made by Pepsi. Mello Yello must be its Coca Cola counterpart. Mystery solved. I promise you a blind tasting in days to come.