There was a strangely Autumnal chill in the air as we set off for our “Summer” Raod Trip yesterday and looking at the photograph of Terminal 3 at Heathrow confirms it - the leaves on those trees are turning colour, aren’t they?
Terminal 3 on a late Summer Sunday afternoon was horrendous, but let’s not dwell on that but instead, feel thankful that there are only a handful of British Airways flights that depart from there. Unfortunately our destination was one of them.
We made it through check in and chilled for a couple of hours in the lounge, sampling the Brewdog Speedbird 100 IPA British Airways have on offer at the moment, celebrating their centenary. Very good it was too, though I’d be hard pushed to identify it from the blurb:
Never mind the flowery descriptions, by this time we were actually boarding and we gathered at Gate 34 in anticipation of our flight.
Except I boarded alone! My Hero was singled out for an additional security check at the gate and as he waited patiently for the hopelessly inefficient bag check team to get-on-with-it, I blew him a kiss and promised to save his seat!
Our carriage awaited - BA 219 to Denver, Colorado and sure enough, I did as I promised. He arived some ten minutes later - we couldn’t have gone without him, could we?
As we took off, we spotted a familiar white plane parked by the hangar in the sunshine
Dwarfed by the 747s around it, Concorde is such a distinctive and elegant masterpiece, isn’t it?
Our flight went smoothly, the new menu by Tom Kerridge was delicious from start to finish and though I initially dismissed the film offerings as being not to my taste, I settled back to rediscover how funny (and clever) Four Weddings and a Funeral is, Coupled with a snooze, some old episodes of Desert island Discs and a spooky afternoon play, The People Next Door the nine hours passed quickly.
And yes, there’s a new pair of socks cast on. As yet, they have no name, but that (and a better photo) will come.
As usual, such experiences leave me with a few things to look up later. This time, it’s who was Charlie Gibbs and why does he have a Fracture Zone named after him? For that matter, what is a Fracture Zone?
Soon, we were in Denver, then, meeting Mary whose flight from Los Angeles arrived an hour or so after ours. At 8pm we were catching up over quesadillas and a glass or two at the airport hotel, feeling it was way too late to begin the Road Trip proper at such an hour.
The travelling companions agreed.