Heathrow

My body is screaming 3 a.m., but in London it’s 9 a.m., or rather at this moment 9.42 a.m.

We’ve been on the ground for about an hour.  Immigration is a little tighter than my last trip, with more questions, and the lines are slower for those of us without EU passports.  My bag was waiting when I exited Immigration, and I hied my way to a first-class lounge, where I enjoyed a luxury — a shower and shave upon arrival.  And a tooth-brushing with real running water, rather than a swish with bottled water in the airplane lavatory.

I read The Economist on the way over, catching up on all the Brexit talk.  And I got a few hours sleep.

First class?  Oh yes — the food!

  • smoked salmon, and a green salad with ginger vinaigrette.
  • roast chicken breast with mushroom ragout.
  • a cheese plate with some yummy goat cheese.
  • vanilla sorbet.
  • and all the wine and bubbly one could wish.

It’s no wonder I slept well.  Of course the fully-reclining (180 degrees!) seat helped.

I could get used to traveling like this.

Now in the United arrivals lounge, I’m getting my bearings, having some mango yogurt and a coffee, and planning the day.  I don’t know if I’ll have a room available when I get to my hotel, so I may just drop my belongings and start off for the day.

I’m usually a planner.  But somehow I left home without my iPhone that is unlocked, and also without my London map that has been my trusty guide for so many trips.  Oh well….

Off on a big adventure.

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