What Time Is It Anyway?

Proverbs 17:22:
A merry heart doeth good like a medicine....

Well, the flight from Chicago to London was mainly uneventful. The pitch (aka “leg room”) was about the same as on the flight from Dayton to Chicago even though there were about a gazillion more seats on the London flight. I had learned  to not put my backpack on the floor, but to put it in the overhead bin. I actually had brought my Netbook and my Kindle Fire to watch movies on the flight, but alas no Internet. Oh well. They showed two movies and some TV shows, and I slept a bit in between. Brenda slept too and even read from the reading plan.

When we first got on the plane in Chicago, after our lovely time in the United Club, we found a blanket and pillow encased in a large plastic bag on each of our seats. As I was looking at mine, there was something kind of green and weird looking staring at me from inside the plastic bag. So I asked the ladies behind me, “What do you think THIS is?”  

They said, “What do you think it is?” 

I’m like, “I don’t know. It looks like some day-old lettuce.” 

My oldest daughter had me a little paranoid when she insisted I bring Sani-wipes and wipe down EVERYTHING on the plane before I touched it (which we did). 

The lady said, “No dear, those are your ear buds.” 

Sure enough, they were my ear buds to plug in to the airplane sound system so I could listen to the movie; they were wrapped in green cellophane. 

Later during the flight we found out those two women were friends traveling to London for holiday also, two Christian women, and we prayed with them before we got off the flight for all of us to have a wonderful time in our adventures.

I was kind of surprised actually that Brenda and I didn’t receive more fanfare from the flight staff, this being our first trip overseas and all. I actually told one of the women flight attendants that I was expecting a little more hoopla from them. She said, “Honey I’ll blow a trumpet when you get off in London.” I was like, “Oh that’s so nice!” Then she let me know she was referring to letting off a little gas after a 7-/12 hour flight! Hmmm.

We landed at Heathrow at approximately 11:15 p.m. (I think.) We were supposed to get there at 10:45 p.m. but it was at least a half hour or more later. Our driver, one Ted Phillips, was to meet us in the arrival hall after we went through customs. Customs was actually very simple. You get off the plane, walk for quite some time, then go past this sign that says you are entering London. Then those who aren’t citizens of the UK walk through like a pedestrian border crossing. We had filled out arrival cards on the plane stating the purpose of our trip. We just showed those and our passports and were off. (I tried to take a photo, but they were having none of that.) 

Then after picking up our luggage, we went to the arrival hall and saw Mr. Phillips sitting on a fold-up camp stool reading his paper with a sign sitting on the ground welcoming Laura and Brenda to London. He was a gentleman of a certain age. Quite lovely actually. On the way to his car, we stopped at a machine where he could pre-pay for his parking pass. He paid the machine and then I asked if we could take his picture. He agreed and also took ours. Then he picked up the stool, the sign, his newspaper, his coffee, and we followed him to his car. 

When we got to the exit gate, Ted began searching for his ticket; it wasn’t there. We had left it in the machine. You can see it in the photo. He tried to push some buttons on the ticket thingamajingy to “call” the office, but they wouldn’t work. Brenda, after struggling with his van door and finally figuring out how to get out of the van, said, “Wait! I’ll just hold up the gate the next time someone goes through.” Ted thought that was very funny, and said he would watch. A car came through. Brenda grabbed the gate arm/bar when it was in the up position and almost got pulled to the ground as it came down. So that was not going to work.

Next, Ted went on a mission to retrieve the missing ticket leaving us sitting in his car blocking the exit gate in Heathrow’s parking garage. There was NO ONE in sight. He was gone for at least 30 minutes. I was fancying spending my first night in London in Heathrow airport. At least it would have been free. Brenda used the time to figure out how to use her cell phone and call home.  Finally, Ted came back and said he found out he was pushing the wrong buttons on the thingamajingy. Turns out when you drive in to Heathrow parking garage, a closed circuit camera takes a photo of your license plate number and spits out a ticket with your license-plate number printed on it. (Twilight Zone music now playing in the background.) So after Ted told the person on the intercom his license-plate number, all they had to do was look it up and find out that he had paid. So somehow from a remote location, they opened the gate, and we were off. 

We were so looking forward to getting to our flat and going to bed. It was now about 1:30 a.m. But good old Ted wanted to show us London at night, so we took the scenic route home. It was actually quite sweet. And he was hilarious.

We told him we knew someone named Ted Phillips, and he asked if he was an Edward. He then proceeded to tell us that everyone in London named Ted is an Edward, not a Theodore. U.S. examples are Ted Turner and Ted Kennedy (both Edward). He also showed us the many, many, many, did I say many closed-circuit traffic cameras on the street. We saw Harrods, the National History Museum, the Victoria and Albert Museum, many people still out at that hour, and he brought us to an ATM machine. 

Finally. he helped us into our flat, up two flights of stairs, and brought in the groceries he had purchased on our behalf. We settled up financially, and then he had lots of stories to keep sharing about how we were staying in the best borough in London (Chelsea and West Kensington), how the flats all had window flower boxes, how he could take us on a four-hour tour of London or Oxford for 200 pounds, and he could come back to take us to the airport next Saturday. We said yes to the last one. 


We then tried to notify people we had made it to London, unpack a bit, learn how to flush the toilet, learn how to lock ourselves in, set up the Internet. When we contacted some of our family, they were wondering if we shouldn’t be going to bed since we’d have a busy day on Sunday. We said, OK, and went to bed at 3:00 a.m.

Thanks for your prayers and believing. We made it.