Some of this was written while airborne, a first for me, but the computer allowed me to do so. I’m here in Woodside, California, and the weather is gorgeous this morning, though it’s supposed to be nice in Britain this week too. Oh well! My journey yesterday began at 7:00 AM London time  with my traditional 15-minute walk to Dagenham Heathway station, followed by nearly 2 hours on the tube to Heathrow. There was a little bit of confusion once I got there, for since I’d never flown Continental Airlines from Heathrow before, I wound up going to the wrong terminal, and having to take a shuttle to get to the right one. Amazingly, this didn’t cost me anything, maybe the only financial break I got all day!

                  My flight yesterday was a two-parter, going a most “direct” route from London to San Francisco. Because it’s on Continental Airlines, and their main US hub city is Houston, Texas, that’s where we had to go. The flight would arrive shortly before 4:00 Houston time, leaving me two hours to make my connecting flight. Two hours at George Bush International! Yes, it is, but at least it’s not named after Dubya. 

               I’ve never been very good at sleeping on planes, and this one was no exception. I should have been able to do so, having gotten less than five hours the previous night, but there are certain factors at work. Factor Number One this time, as often happens, was the incessant wailing of an infant about seven rows back, not always crying, but always loud, as though she loved the sound of her voice so much, she thought we would all enjoy it too. The mother also chose to walk the child around the cabin to spread a little love and noise everyone’s way. I didn’t drink alcohol on this flight, because they charged for it, so I didn’t have that sleep inducer to work with.

                What made factor number one so prominent was the fact that their in-flight entertainment developed a glitch earlier so that none of it would be available. That can certainly make a 9 1/2 hour trip feel like about 16. It was probably for the better, as the seats didn’t have individual screen like Virgin Air does, so it meant either G-rated films or horribly edited and/or dubbed in films.  American airline companies tend to still show movies the same way they’re shown on free TV in the States. I remember years ago, when I saw the movie “Sideways“ in flight on United Airlines. In one of the opening scenes, when the guy is talking about the raunchy week he hopes to have, he says, “I want to get ‘loved’ this week. I want some girl to ‘scratch my back.’” Yeah, like that’s really what he said, or that anyone would say that to hint at anything sexual.

                 Getting back to sleeping on planes, I don’t know what goes on there, but I’ve taken prescription sleeping pills in the past and still not been able to sleep on flights. It looked good when I got to my seat, I was going to have an aisle seat with the window and middle seats empty. Oh, boy, I can stretch out and have three pillows and blankets, and be able to crash out for a couple of hours and the flight will just zoom along!  Ah, but there is that one factor of not being able to find a comfortable position to stretch out in, with all the metal-works under those seat cushions, plus the insistence from the flight attendants that if you remain in your seat, you must have a seat belt on. Fair enough, flight safety rules, I get it. But because of the angle you’re at when you’re attempting to lay down in your seat, there’s no way the damn seat belt is going to fasten, even when fully extended. I tried, and suddenly felt fat.

                  So we arrived on time at Bush International, and there was but one four-hour flight to go, but just to give me a little extra anxiety, I have this streak of luck which dictates that I always get in the wrong line for EVERYTHING! When it’s for customs, it’s always behind a series of individuals who wind up having to be fingerprinted and photographed, or people who get into protracted dialogues with the customs agent. Just get your stamp and GO, dipshit, this agent doesn’t WANT to be your friend! Then the same thing happens with further baggage inspection when I’m checking in for my connecting flight. I always seem to pick the line where there’s few people waiting, but after I choose that particular line, I either discover they’re all carrying their entire lives on the plane, or there’s one person who keeps setting off the metal alarms because of perhaps a nickel that he forgot to take out of his pocket. Still no harm no foul, managed to have time to get some US dollars and get a snack from the terminal food court. Of course, on the flight to San Fran, the light meal featured a chicken soft taco, exactly what I’d had in Houston!

                  My flight to San Francisco arrived a few minutes early, and after going through the final baggage claim of the day, I went to the car rental place, and here’s a recommendation: Avoid Dollar Rent-A-Car unless you’re prepared to part with several more dollars! This is the second time they’ve done it to me, and I will never go to them again. They tell you to bring back the car with an empty tank, which is confusing, but this way they can charge you the additional cost of filling the tank, $43.00, plus a “recommended” daily insurance which allows that if something happens to your car while it’s in your possession, you at least have emergency road service available. So my trip, which was intended to cost £704.00 has now gone to about £1000, after having to change my reservation, plus the extra charges Dollar threw at me. Pigs! They said they might deduct one day’s charge on the road service thing, since I’ll be returning the car a day ahead of schedule. Big wow, you’re all heart and compassion.  

                Once I got to the car, which if this is what they call an “Economy” car, I’d hate to see the “Luxury” one. There are VANS that are less cumbersome. I’m sure I’ll have many a frustrating time trying to park this in San Francisco. Anyway, I got to my brother’s house in Woodside at about 9:30 Pacific time, meaning my travel time from door to door was  about 22 1/2 hours.  I managed to get nearly six hours of uninterrupted sleep, which is extremely good for me, having gone to bed by 11:30. The important thing is I’m here, and will get to spend over a week in San Francisco, my favorite city in all of America, probably the world. It’s another case of counting your blessings.