Dawn
22-09-2008, 02:18 PM
And more, much more than this, I did it my way
The flight goes on and Steven falls asleep on my lap just as they bring the food round but with that skycot table in front of us we didn’t have to disturb him to get to our food. I don’t remember exactly what we had on the way home – the flight is mostly blurry – but I know I had some kind of vegetarian pasta with the usual mouthful of salad and two crackers with a piece of rubber cheese. I remember that the kid’s meal was spaghetti and meatballs because I was studying Louis’s tray intently to see what else they got. Apparently the spaghetti was quite nice because Louis’s dad ate it all. Harry was well pleased because the kids got a large box or raisins with their meal and he loves them. They also got the usual chocolatey cake-type thing and a juice box of some description.
The trays were cleared away and Steven woke up and refused to go back to sleep. Don’t ask me what movies were being shown on this flight because Mummies aren’t allowed to sample in-flight entertainment; that’s a privilege reserved solely for Daddies. It was quite a bumpy flight and the cabin crew couldn’t bring round the tea and coffee for fear of them throwing scalding hot liquid over us. However we were welcome to go to the galley and help ourselves and throw it over each other on the way back down the aisles.
I do remember that they had an episode of Bob The Builder on the kid’s TV channel though. I remember this for two reasons. Firstly I was watching it over Louis’s shoulder. Secondly, Harry was watching. Harry’s not-quite-three-year-old logic hasn’t worked out that if he’s wearing earphones other people can still hear him even though he can’t necessarily hear them. He treated the whole plane to a very loud, rousing rendition of the Bob The Builder theme tune. It was wicked funny: people all around us were in hysterics and Harry was oblivious to it all.
Adrian took Steven for a stroll around the cabin to see if he would go back to sleep – no chance – so I knelt on my seat and leaned over the back to play with Harry for a bit who was also in a not sleeping mood. We were having a great time singing Bob The Builder and other small person type songs. After about 20 minutes Big Steve looked across and suddenly leaned over and grabbed Harry and sat him back down in his seat. I looked right over the back of my seat to see what was going on. See I thought Harry was standing in his seat while we were playing. Turns out he was actually standing on the fold-down table, which was now in a position it was not designed to be in. This was definitely a job for Bob The Builder. Luckily Big Steve the carpenter was an able replacement and managed to restore the table to its full working glory.
I don’t honestly remember much more about the rest of the flight home. It was pretty bumpy all the way so the drink’s service was risk-it-yourself. Turbulence makes for an interesting nappy change experience in those small cubicles I can tell you. Steven finally fell asleep two hours from Gatwick. Adrian and myself tried to get some sleep, but it never works, we can never sleep on planes. One thing I do remember though was the breakfast they served us shortly before landing. It was probably the most memorable airline meal I’ve ever had. Three segments of dried up grapefruit and a small dry pastry lump, which apparently was a scone. That was it. And the cabin crew served it while managing to keep a straight face throughout.
That’s about all I can remember from the flight. It seemed to go fairly quickly, despite the turbulence, and pretty soon we are heading into Gatwick at the start of a new day. We land on time and are quickly off the plane and into the immigration hall. Bit of a difference to MCO. The airport at Orlando is all lovely and fresh and airy, and Gatwick is a concrete 1970s nightmare in dire need of a good scrubbing. We stop for a restroom: hey what’s this having to flush my own toilet now, and then stroll through passport control where the officer waves us straight through without removing their eyes from their newspaper.
We cross the dirty floor and go up the dirty elevator to the dirty baggage reclaim area. It is like a scrum. Actually it’s worse than a scrum. After an 8 hour night flight I’d definitely choose the front row of a scrum over baggage reclaim at Gatwick. Anyway we all hide in a corner and Big Steve goes over and peers over the masses. He comes back to announce that our bags are all out and going round the belt, and we just need to get to them. Cue Ellie steering a baggage cart. The crowd parted like Moses parted the Red Sea when they saw a 6-year-old in control of a baggage cart. Three loaded trolleys later and we have all our bags and car seats safely retrieved, and Steven and Harry are back in their buggies.
Into the green “Nothing to Declare” channel with our £145 worth of other goods. There’s no one there! Not a single customs officer is on duty in this area. Luckily none of us was trying to smuggle any contraband or we would have succeeded with honours. OK I guess Orlando isn’t the drug running capital of the world, or Florida even, but at least have a token officer to look for suspicious characters. Like people who arrive from Orlando NOT wearing Mickey ears, or a Goofy hat.
We enter the arrivals hall and Nanny Lesley phones Grandad Fred to tell him to get on his way to pick up the luggage. Big Steve and Adrian go off to collect the cars and bring them to the short-stay parking while we wait for Grandad Fred. Everyone else goes to Starbucks and leaves me with Harry, Steven and 3 loaded baggage trolleys. Harry and myself sing Bob The Builder once more, and he also decides that the beeping cart for carrying passengers around is “a bit gairy.”
Grandad Fred is waiting outside so we wheel our luggage outside and load it into his van. Then we all say our goodbyes and walk to our respective vehicles for the drive home. Nanny Lesley and Grandad Fred drive to our house to drop our bags off and they stop for a quick coffee before heading home. Steven falls asleep so Adrian and myself grab a few hours each before starting the unpacking. Steven was so tired that night that he slept right through to 11.15am the next morning. Adrian went to work the next morning. I started the laundry. We were home.
This is not the final instalment.
The flight goes on and Steven falls asleep on my lap just as they bring the food round but with that skycot table in front of us we didn’t have to disturb him to get to our food. I don’t remember exactly what we had on the way home – the flight is mostly blurry – but I know I had some kind of vegetarian pasta with the usual mouthful of salad and two crackers with a piece of rubber cheese. I remember that the kid’s meal was spaghetti and meatballs because I was studying Louis’s tray intently to see what else they got. Apparently the spaghetti was quite nice because Louis’s dad ate it all. Harry was well pleased because the kids got a large box or raisins with their meal and he loves them. They also got the usual chocolatey cake-type thing and a juice box of some description.
The trays were cleared away and Steven woke up and refused to go back to sleep. Don’t ask me what movies were being shown on this flight because Mummies aren’t allowed to sample in-flight entertainment; that’s a privilege reserved solely for Daddies. It was quite a bumpy flight and the cabin crew couldn’t bring round the tea and coffee for fear of them throwing scalding hot liquid over us. However we were welcome to go to the galley and help ourselves and throw it over each other on the way back down the aisles.
I do remember that they had an episode of Bob The Builder on the kid’s TV channel though. I remember this for two reasons. Firstly I was watching it over Louis’s shoulder. Secondly, Harry was watching. Harry’s not-quite-three-year-old logic hasn’t worked out that if he’s wearing earphones other people can still hear him even though he can’t necessarily hear them. He treated the whole plane to a very loud, rousing rendition of the Bob The Builder theme tune. It was wicked funny: people all around us were in hysterics and Harry was oblivious to it all.
Adrian took Steven for a stroll around the cabin to see if he would go back to sleep – no chance – so I knelt on my seat and leaned over the back to play with Harry for a bit who was also in a not sleeping mood. We were having a great time singing Bob The Builder and other small person type songs. After about 20 minutes Big Steve looked across and suddenly leaned over and grabbed Harry and sat him back down in his seat. I looked right over the back of my seat to see what was going on. See I thought Harry was standing in his seat while we were playing. Turns out he was actually standing on the fold-down table, which was now in a position it was not designed to be in. This was definitely a job for Bob The Builder. Luckily Big Steve the carpenter was an able replacement and managed to restore the table to its full working glory.
I don’t honestly remember much more about the rest of the flight home. It was pretty bumpy all the way so the drink’s service was risk-it-yourself. Turbulence makes for an interesting nappy change experience in those small cubicles I can tell you. Steven finally fell asleep two hours from Gatwick. Adrian and myself tried to get some sleep, but it never works, we can never sleep on planes. One thing I do remember though was the breakfast they served us shortly before landing. It was probably the most memorable airline meal I’ve ever had. Three segments of dried up grapefruit and a small dry pastry lump, which apparently was a scone. That was it. And the cabin crew served it while managing to keep a straight face throughout.
That’s about all I can remember from the flight. It seemed to go fairly quickly, despite the turbulence, and pretty soon we are heading into Gatwick at the start of a new day. We land on time and are quickly off the plane and into the immigration hall. Bit of a difference to MCO. The airport at Orlando is all lovely and fresh and airy, and Gatwick is a concrete 1970s nightmare in dire need of a good scrubbing. We stop for a restroom: hey what’s this having to flush my own toilet now, and then stroll through passport control where the officer waves us straight through without removing their eyes from their newspaper.
We cross the dirty floor and go up the dirty elevator to the dirty baggage reclaim area. It is like a scrum. Actually it’s worse than a scrum. After an 8 hour night flight I’d definitely choose the front row of a scrum over baggage reclaim at Gatwick. Anyway we all hide in a corner and Big Steve goes over and peers over the masses. He comes back to announce that our bags are all out and going round the belt, and we just need to get to them. Cue Ellie steering a baggage cart. The crowd parted like Moses parted the Red Sea when they saw a 6-year-old in control of a baggage cart. Three loaded trolleys later and we have all our bags and car seats safely retrieved, and Steven and Harry are back in their buggies.
Into the green “Nothing to Declare” channel with our £145 worth of other goods. There’s no one there! Not a single customs officer is on duty in this area. Luckily none of us was trying to smuggle any contraband or we would have succeeded with honours. OK I guess Orlando isn’t the drug running capital of the world, or Florida even, but at least have a token officer to look for suspicious characters. Like people who arrive from Orlando NOT wearing Mickey ears, or a Goofy hat.
We enter the arrivals hall and Nanny Lesley phones Grandad Fred to tell him to get on his way to pick up the luggage. Big Steve and Adrian go off to collect the cars and bring them to the short-stay parking while we wait for Grandad Fred. Everyone else goes to Starbucks and leaves me with Harry, Steven and 3 loaded baggage trolleys. Harry and myself sing Bob The Builder once more, and he also decides that the beeping cart for carrying passengers around is “a bit gairy.”
Grandad Fred is waiting outside so we wheel our luggage outside and load it into his van. Then we all say our goodbyes and walk to our respective vehicles for the drive home. Nanny Lesley and Grandad Fred drive to our house to drop our bags off and they stop for a quick coffee before heading home. Steven falls asleep so Adrian and myself grab a few hours each before starting the unpacking. Steven was so tired that night that he slept right through to 11.15am the next morning. Adrian went to work the next morning. I started the laundry. We were home.
This is not the final instalment.