The Flight

The flight

British Airways out of Houston to London Heathrow*Boeing 777*Aer Lingus out of Heathrow to Cork*Airbus 220

I flew out of Houston on July 7, 2012. Getting though security was no problem, and getting on the plane was easy. I found myself greeted by the most charming English accents. I was flying British Airways, so that probably should not have been a surprise, but the “How ah you, madam?” just delighted me. My bag had some issues getting in the overhead storage, so one of the crew members (CM) offered to move it for me. The two CMs began to banter about my admittedly rather heavy bag.

CM 1: Is it too heavy, now?

Me: Well… I got it up there…

CM 1: (lifting my bag) Oh my, what do you have in here?

CM 2: I hope it’s not home baking!

CM 1: Everything you need in-flight I suppose!

CM 2: Gold bricks, perhaps?

As the cabin door closed and we began to taxi down the runway, I noticed something out of place. Or at least something I didn’t want in this particular place and time: lighting.

It’s only one flash, it probably won’t delay us… well, one after another flashed and we were delayed. We sat on the runway for about 45 minutes as the inevitable rain fell down on the Boeing 777.

Finally, the storm cleared a bit, and amidst English-accented announcements and safety videos, we took off. We were just beginning to cruise and the crew was offering the first round of refreshments when the scariest part of the trip began.

The plane began to shake and vibrate. The book I had on my tray bounced clear off, and the drink carts rattled angrily. The heavy turbulence shook like an angry fist for about five minutes. When it finally cleared, I was thoroughly nauseated. I have never been sick on a plane, but I wanted new experiences, right? There were spots of small turbulence throughout the rest of the eight-hour journey, but none as extreme as that first bout.

The meal service was exceptional. I don’t know if it was British Airways or the fact that the flight was international, but I got a full dinner, choice of chicken curry or cheese pasta (I got the ravioli) with a small salad, dinner roll, and a slice of cheesecake for dessert. They even offered complimentary white and red wine, so I tried some sauvignon blanc. The food wasn’t the very best I have eaten ever, but it was the best I have had on an airplane. I saw a movie, the remake of 21 Jump Street, but I slept for most of the trip, waking up about an hour and a half before landing, when they were serving yet another meal; a muffin and coffee for breakfast.

Alas, we were still a full hour behind our scheduled arrival at Heathrow airport. Still, seeing peeks of Ireland beneath a blanket of clouds, and coming upon the west coast of England, I couldn’t stop being excited. We landed, and I set foot in the UK. I had to catch a bus to change terminals, and make my way through immigration, which was a bit slow, but I had no problems. I now have an English Visa!

Still, the delay was too much. I was trapped in the snail’s pace security line five minutes before the plane was scheduled for takeoff. After security, I found my way to the Aer Lingus connection desk and got on the waiting list for the next flight, three hours later.

I lingered around the shops and airport pubs for a while. I bought some postcards, and eventually decided to stop in the Tin Goose. I was thirsty, and tired. (by this point my body was feeling 4:30am!) So, not feeling like eating,  got a Coke and sat on the couches in the pub. It had snarky hangers with ckeeky sayings on it, and a sign remembering the Beatles: “All you need is love! And I love Gin!”

Then, I decided to make my way through the last security check point and spend the remaining hour and a half my gate and write a blog post. They told me the 1:30pm flight was full, but I am at the top of the waiting list.

I made it on the 1:30pm flight (it was actually 13:30, for those of you who prefer that)! Got into Cork and got my passport stamped once again, then exchanged my US dollars for some Euros which still don’t feel like money… I took a cab; at this point I am too tired to try to navigate the bus system. The cab driver had a perfectly Irish lilt and drove on the left... very glad it wasn't me driving! Now as I finish this, I am sitting in my apartment room overlooking a river. It’s beautiful!

I made it. Now the adventure begins!