After an early wakeup, we checked out and went to the train station. We were quickly able to buy tickets, and went down to platform 3, where the train from the airport (according to the timetables) was going to depart in one minute. We hurried onto the train. It went the wrong direction. We made the mistake of believing that countries outside of Japan would actually run their trains down-to-the-minute. Everything was already running about 4-5 mins late this morning, so we simply got off at the next stop and caught what was likely our originally planned train going the opposite direction a few minutes later.
We completed our checkin at Kastrup airport and went through security, which was much more efficient, friendly, and cleaner than Manchester. We then waited to see what seats we would get. Last night I had multiple dreams about sitting in economy seats, so perhaps my mind was trying to mentally prepare me for the inevitable. There was one remaining business class seat, which I offered to Nicole, but the gate agent took slight issue with Nicole’s wardrobe which included *gasp* jeans. It is technically written into SAS’s dress code requirements for business class standbys, but I didn’t think they would actually enforce it as long as you looked clean and inoffensive. It’s not the greatest policy for people who don’t even know if they’re getting on a flight (and typically pack lighter) to also have to go out of their way to carry an extra wardrobe (including dressier shoes mind you). Either way, we declined the one business class seat, and the gate agent was actually pretty nice and rearranged a passenger to another aisle seat in a different row so we could sit together in SAS Plus (a sort of premium economy seat) with extra legroom.
We settled in for the 11 hour flight back to LA, which is at least direct. The length of flight at least gave us time to reflect on our quick jaunt around England.
Now that I’ve upgraded to captain at the airlines, getting a decent block of days off has become quite a challenge. It then becomes a bit constrictive when you get just over a week off. It’s long enough to go away, but not quite long enough to do something too ambitious. And thus we chose England (even though we got on a plane thinking we were going to Mallorca). Nonetheless, a journey around England’s countryside had been on our minds for some time and we were finally able to execute it.
While I admit to enjoy seeing my country count go up, being a repeat visitor to England had its own advantages. With each subsequent visit to a place, there’s less pressure to “hit the highlights” and the “must sees.” That creates an opportunity to stray from the usual tourist path and experience perhaps a more authentic version of a place.
There are about 12 nonstop flights between LAX and Heathrow every day — a shocking number. Yet, Los Angeles is just one city amongst dozens across the U.S. that serve London. That’s why it was all the more surprising that throughout the trip we didn’t see (or hear) any other Americans. We had evidently formulated a roadtrip that somehow managed to stray from what any other American deemed worthwhile.
This trip, in particular, gave us the chance to branch out into some other areas of British cuisine and live like the locals. We tried sausage rolls, sticky toffee pudding, a full English breakfast, beans on toast, and we ordered cream teas as if we knew what we were talking about. Most afternoons we were able to kick back for a few minutes and enjoy a tea or a snack. This is something that can not really be enjoyed when running around London all day, hopping on and off the tube, and being surrounded by other tourists.
We didn’t “do” a lot of things. Our trip primarily entailed walking around old towns, drinking tea, and (in my case) hitting my head repeatedly on low ceilings, low beams, or low-hanging lamps. People were shorter in the past. The only thing we really went out of our way to do was watch the Aston Villa match versus Chelsea. And I am quite confident that Nicole and I were the only people in the stands who were American. Fortunately for us, we were decked out in Aston Villa merch from hats to kits to gloves (purchased just two hours earlier) and practically blended into the crowd. I imagine our seatmates at the match were probably a bit confused if they heard our accents. There aren’t many reasons for two yanks to find themselves on the outskirts of Birmingham at an Aston Villa game. I find it enjoyable to be the outsider at times. Listening to unintelligible football chants from the fans and trying to interpret what they were actually saying really helped pass the time.
The weather was ghastly throughout the trip, but not as bad as it could have been. We didn’t really have to deal with any rain, but it was surprisingly cold. What’s more, nobody else seemed to be bothered by it. Lots of people were wearing shorts when it was maybe 50. It’s like we were living in some parallel universe where we thought it was frigid while everyone else seemed to think these the best days of spring. I have decided after this trip that I could never live in England. For one, it’s too cold and there’s not nearly enough sun. Two, the food is simply not varied enough and gives me perpetual gas. Three, airports all over England are just. . .so. . .bad, and nobody seems to care enough to improve them.
Although I may say that I have no desire to ever live in England, I was grateful to have the opportunity to really take in the culture this time around. And as an added bonus, the rain in Los Angeles appears to have stopped…maybe for months. After shivering for the last week, we landed in LA to pretty “average” spring weather. It was sunny and 65. That wouldn’t have otherwise impressed us except when comparing it to where we had just been. We imagined how it would feel to those same people who were wearing shorts when it was 50. Surely they would be swimming in the Pacific if it was 65 and sunny. So while we may have suffered through some truly marginal food for a few days, we returned to Los Angeles more appreciative of it than when we left.
And perhaps, at the end of the day, traveling isn’t just seeing or experiencing something new. It’s also about comparing that experience to what you already know. English scones? Better than their American counterparts. Everything else you might eat in England? Worse. And that’s ok. If I never tried a full English breakfast or beans on toast, I might have been missing out on something great all my life. I can assure you that I’m not, but I wouldn’t have known that unless I tried it. So I suppose the point I’m trying to make is that everyone should give something a try, even if it sounds absolutely horrendous. I have to admit, however, I drew the line at fish pie. And there is an extremely small chance that I’m missing out on a real gem of culinary excellence, but I wasn’t about to take that chance before having to drive in a car for a few hours the next day. Maybe next time…
passports & pepto bismol 