Yes This IS the Line for British Airways

It was a long day (days? honestly unsure at this point) but we've made it to our first stop, The George Inn in Donyatt. The trip so far has been so seamless as to almost be suspicious.

Corey was kind enough to use his self-driving spaceship car to deliver us to the airport. I avoid saying that Corey drove us, because the aforementioned spaceship actually drove a decent portion of the trip. The spaceship could not, however, tell where the British Airways dropoff point was, so we ended up having to walk the last portion to our check in counter. We walked past the first airline's counter. No line. We walked past the second airline's counter: no line. We walked past the third airline's counter and there was not a line at that counter, but there was a line forming in the walkway. It was the British Airways line. It extended from the British Airways counter, through the serpentine line markers, past the British Airways section, through the sea of swirly-twirly gum drops, and into the walkway in front of the NEXT airline. We were almost 3 hours early for our flight.

Fast forward 20 minutes. We have moved maybe, MAYBE a couple feet. The line now extends past the next two airline counters. People are walking allllllll the way up the line, thinking that, surely, this line is for something else. Someone else. Anyone else. Please. But this line is not for something else. We have to inform many disgruntled passengers that yes, you do need to be at the end of the line that is alllllllll the way back there. At this point, someone over the intercom starts to make announcements sounding something to the effect of "*incredibly garbled speech* British Airways *potentially an amateur beatboxer* BRITISH AIRWAYS *Klingon*" It seems likely that they are calling in reinforcements to handle this unprecedented crowd, but it does nothing to quiet the masses. Children are being separated from their rolling Cars backpack suitcases. Backpackers are calling out to each other over a sea of impatient ticket holders. Millenials are being forced to choose between Tweeting their outrage and preserving their battery life. In the distance, sirens...

Eventually, the line began to move and we were able to check our bags. Mine may or may not have been within a kilogram of the weight limit, but it's fine. This is the first time that the horseshoe/hand grenade argument has worked in my favor. We made it through security, definitely did NOT have an argument about order of operations and as a result did NOT walk all the way down to our gate before turning around and walking almost all the way back to security to purchase snacks and a bottle of water only to then walk all the way back down to the gate. That was another couple that did that. We would never.

Upon our return to the gate, we filled our three refillable water bottles at the Hydration Station (read: fancy sink), bring our water total up to five litres (Will insists that I spell litres this way whilst in the UK) before boarding our plane. Despite being in the last boarding group, we were able to get onto the plane with our ridiculous amount of water AND stow our hat boxes in the overhead bins before settling into our seats.

A quick note about our hat boxes. Our lovely friend Victoria bought and decorated our hat boxes for us before the trip: mine with burnt orange and white spots, Will's with BOOM SQUAD written in big block letters, and both decorated with an orange and white ribbon. Did you see the problem? Let me try again. Will's hat box, that he carried through the airport had BOOM SQUAD written on it. Taking up approximately a square foot of space. BOOM. SQUAD. None of us noticed the potential issue here until the day before our flight, when Will's parents pointed out that maybe, unless a full cavity search was on his bucket list, just maybe he would want to do something about that. With very little time to make his decision, Will decided that his hat box must make the ultimate sacrifice and he scraped off the letters. Sorry, Victoria.

So, hat boxes stowed, water bottleS in tow, we settled in for the next 9 hours. My master plan worked perfectly. I drank so much water that I had to use the restroom every six minutes. Between that, my double layer of compression socks, and my grown up aspirin, we managed to avoid any major thrombosis-related incidents. Short of some turbulence over Canada, it was an incredibly smooth flight.

Upon landing, we found that we did not have to fill in landing cards. Additionally, we were surprised to learn that European and American passports are allowed to pass through the same computerized Border Force line as British citizens. William, who had spoken of little else during the days leading up (an exaggeration, but only slightly) admitted to being only slightly perturbed that he had not been treated as VIP compared to his purely American counterpart.

We passed through the line easily, collected our bags (Will tried to steal someone else's bag on my behalf (we put it back, it's fine)) we stepped out into the English morning.

It.
Was.
COLD.

I had packed a scarf into my hatbox, thinking I might need it in the evening. I needed it immediately. I bundled up as tight and warm as I could while waiting for the bus to take us to the rental car place. After several teeth-chattering minutes, the bus arrived to take us to our next destination. Due to unfortunate suitcase placement on the bus, I spent the entire ride with my left leg fully extended and fully flexed in an attempt to keep it from falling over. Will found an upsetting amount of pleasure in the look on my face as we went through a roundabout. I consider those 8 seconds alone to be my workout for the day.

We attained our rental car with, once again, minimum hassle. We loaded up our things and off we went! Our first stop was a Waitrose for coffee and junk food. Will's first and only requirement was a Waitrose pork pie. I thought he was being dramatic (not unprecedented) until I ate one. Consider me converted; they're glorious. Our next stop was Stonehenge (a story all its own) before arriving at our B&B in Donyatt.Read more