LGW – GUA (via DFW)
We had the unexpected pleasure of being taken to LGW by Vinnie Jones – I never knew he drove a Ford Mondeo. We couldn’t complain mind……we’d actually been waiting for the airport shuttle bus when he rolled up, asked us where we were going and matched the price of the bus. Brilliant, private tranpsort without the hordes to contend with at a stupidly early time in the morning.
Vinnie had given up drinking, but it appeared only in the last couple of hours! He got us to the terminal so we didn’t mind – too much.
Ahhhh, Gatwick, we remember it well. Last year, one hour before our flight, the fire alarms went off and we manged to lose a whole day because of it. This year not much went off at all, which was a relief. A quick final call to work was made, and then we were off to the boarding gate. Why is it always the very last one at the end of a very long and tedious walkway???
We still didn’t have a seat number though, and we heard the flight was oversold. Could this be the spanner in the works? Em jumped when our names were called, and with heart racing made her way to the desk, to be told…….we did have seats. As it turned out these were at the very back of the plane, and right beside the toilets. A double edged sword if ever there was one.
Eug managed 6.2 hours before he first lost his temper. One precocious child who was too old for her own good insisted on using the whole aisle as a running track, choosing to pirouette everytime she got to the toilets, which was where Eug was sat (not literally-yet!). Since he’d been asleep up until this point, he wasn’t too pleased, and a staring match ensued with points shared at the end.
Dallas arrived, and with it the usual experience of Homeland Security. It appears that this year the definition of ‘courtesy’, loudly proclaimed on patriotic posters everywhere, has been understood. It was almost pleasant! Away from immigration and finding our rucksacks here and intact, we then had the pleasure of re-checking our luggage. This was where Em managed to fall backwards, not under the weight of her main 65 liter (check the US spelling, guys!) rucksack, but by putting on our small hand luggage rucksack. There she was, sat on her bum in the middle of the terminal, doing a ‘Peter Kay’ trying to right herself again. Perhaps she’ll fall forwards next time around!
And then on to our flight to Guat. The air hostess told us we’d be flying at 33 feet, which was amusing, before then apologising for telling us dinner would be served when there wasn’t any on the plane. Boo hoo, we were looking forward to another plate of what purports to be food.
Across in the distance bright flashes of lightening made for a dramatic entry over Central America, and before long (but not before time!) we were circling Guate City, dodging the foreboding volcanoes and skimming across shanty-town rooftops before touching down to what is now the familiar rounds of applause from folks who travel in planes in this neck of the woods. Right, I wonder if the rucksacks have flown with us this time??
Tags: Guatemala
mihai