Friday, 9 June 2017

Zero light thirty

The alarm rang at the very civilised hour of 5.30 and we woke to the news that the general election had produced a hung parliament. It could conceivably mean that we are in the hands of the Scots, Jeremy Corbyn having achieved something that Robert the Bruce and Bonnie Prince Charlie failed to do. It would definitely mean that our expensive holiday got even more so. Vicky would have to cut down on the cocktails. The journey to Manchester was quick and easy, not even Tintwistle held us up, and we were soon dropping our bags at Virgin's very efficient desk. It was even quiet in security, ian and I enduring our customary thorough search. I wouldn't have it any other way though. We had a little scare after we got through as Ian thought he had put his passport in his very empty coat pocket, but luckily it was a bumbag moment and he had, in fact, put it in his bag. While booking the parking I had added on passes for the Escape lounge, in order to escape the hoi poloi, and just to try it out really. 


We got to eat and drink as much as we wanted. We could have had alcohol but it was even too early for vicky! It was also very peaceful, especially after we moved to some comfy chairs. 



At the allotted time we boarded our Virgin flight. Vicky and I had the two near the window and ian was across the aisle, with a spare seat beside him. The plane was bang on time and the food and drink simply never stopped coming. Pretzels, dinner, ice lolly, pasty, sandwich and crisps. I decided to watch 'Sully'. Big mistake. Not because it involved a plane crashing, but because he saved everyone and it made me cry! 


A mere ten and a half hours and two circles above the city later we were landing in San Francisco. We were greeted by a very perky lady who told us the wait in immigration was only 50-60 mins. We've had worse. But in the end it was only around ten minutes, although the very efficient Ciao was extremely stern faced.  Bags came really quick and we were out into the San Franciscan air. A dainty little monorail was required to get us to the car hire desk 


Once again there was very little waiting and we soon took delivery of a great big black thing with tinted windows. In no time we were on the freeway. And what an experience that was! We noticed that most of the cars had dings, and soon realised it was because lane discipline is non existent. One guy was driving along with both hands on the can of beer he was drinking! 45 fraught minutes later we pulled up outside the hotel and handed the beast off to a dubious looking guy who we assumed was the valet. The receptionist was really friendly and we dumped the bags in the room and rushed down to the bar. It was happy hour! 


It was also 6pm and time for bed. 

Song of the day - I'm leaving on a jet plane, John Denver




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