5am is the worst hour imaginable. It's not late enough so you get a decent night's sleep, but not early enough to warrant staying up. But after about three hours sleep (Mark and I decided watching Paul McCartney at Isle of Wight festival on TV was obviously a good idea) up we got, and off to the airport we went.
As I write, this plane has travelled over 3000 miles, over England and Scotland, Iceland and Greenland. We're also 36,000 feet in the air, travelling at approx 540mph. I can tell all this by the snazzy little screen in front of me. Strangely though, this has been the most relaxed I've been all day. Airports are hectic and bothersome, but planes I could get used to.
P.S. Yelling "Oh yeaaaah, window seat," on the plane will get you funny looks for the entire journey.
Day Two - Tuesday 15th June 2010
Yesterday was an absolute diaster. What was meant to be a fourteen hour journey turned into a twenty two hour nightmare. The plan was to fly from Heathrow in London, to Vancouver, Canada, and then onto Denver, Colorado, USA.
Basically, we were told at Heathrow to check in our bags again at Vancouver. When we got there however, our bags never showed up on the carousel. After half an hour we finally found out our bags were automatically transferred after all. Onto the flight we'd just missed. Luckily, a very helpful man at Check-in caught them before they took off, so the bags could be sent to our new flight. To San Francisco. Bare in mind that this was about 9pm GMT time. We were tired, grumpy, and this was the last thing we needed.
San Francisco was a blur. By now it was about midnight GMT, maybe a little later, and we had yet another plane to catch. We staggered onto a flight finally bound for Denver, and at approximately 6am GMT we arrived. It was such a relief when Mark's dad and step-mum bumped into us, helped us find our luggage, and reassured us we could sleep in the car.
i hate airports too. the waiting around is so shit. lucky some man helped you, i would have been so confused!
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