UK 2002 – Enroute
We took a morning United flight out of Dulles to Heathrow – I hate those overnight redeyes that land you in Paris or wherever all drained and shaking. Yeah a day gets burned en route but unless you down some prescription assistance on the overnight that first shellshocked day on the ground is a bigger waste than seven hours spent planning and drinking (at least they still feed you on the ocean flights). I piled the travel books on my lap and scratched out itineraries for our time in London.
I learned that the 767 seatback has a better GPS display than I do.
Transatlantics are a snap these days. Just don’t get too engrossed in that second movie – they pulled the plug on I Am Sam about fifteen minutes before the end. Sorry, Melanie.
We passed over Cornwall as the sun set behind us. Smooth flight, the only interesting thing being we shared the back of the plane with the Dropkick Murphys who were on their way from Boston to do a festival tour.
Heathrow tip: go to the outside taxi stand if you want to take a cab into town. In the terminal we started to accept a ride from a guy we met until he led us to the garage, pulled up in a beat-up Saab and could only produce a battered map and a book of hotels when I asked to see his hack license. Later.
Cab fare to London: 50 pounds. There’s a direct train that gets to Victoria Station for maybe half that, but then we’d just have to get a cab in London anyway…