DEPARTURE

Right, day one (sort of).  I’m in transit in Logan International Airport, caught in the limbo of connecting flights.  My plane will take off in four hours for Heathrow, and until then, I’m just waiting.  First off, some housekeeping.  I’m not sure that the “vlog” bit is going to pan out like I wanted.  For one thing, I couldn’t get a film camera, but have a still camera with a film capability, so I don’t think there’ll be much footage being shot.  On the otherhand, I do have a webcam and a lot of free time according to my itinerary, so there might be some vlogging going on.  We’ll have to see.  Suffice it to say for now that this is a standard blog with vlog bits here and there.

My plane into Boston was a tiny thing and as we were descending I thought my sinuses were gonna explode.  My head’s still throbbing from it, so I’m going to hunt for aspirin after I finish this first post.  I fully expect it to cost upwards of $15, seeing as the simple hamburger I just ate was nearly $11.  A woman in crutches sat next to me on the plane. It wasn’t dramatic or anything, but she had a cast on her foot, and I think I accidentally kicked it once.  I felt badly, but she didn’t say anything about it.  I was intrigued by this woman, because the entire flight she read a newsletter from The Stuttering Foundation.  The whole thing was about The King’s Speech, down to an interview with Colin Firth.  I think that that movie was the biggest thing to happen to the stuttering community for sometime.  I knew a guy with a stutter once.  I didn’t like him.

At the moment I’m nervous about London because apparently there are certain forms that I forgot to print off, but I don’t think any of them are vital.  One of them is a letter of introduction to help me get through customs, but I’ve gotten through customs before without a fuss.  Of course, I’ve never been by myself, but I’m sure I’ll be fine.  I’d like to put the following rule into effect:  every airport should have Kinkos.  I think that would be great.

So far I’ve explored the entire A Terminal of Boston International, looking for my gate.  My flight (which, again, doesn’t fly for another 4 hours) isn’t on any of the departure boards yet, so I naturally thought it must be at another gate.  Turns out that it was arriving at the gate directly adjacent to the one I had just arrived on.  I’m sitting next to this obese African American woman who can’t seem to open her bottle of POM.  As I’m about to offer to help, she gets up, struggling with her walker and moaning like the Brooklyn Bridge in a windstorm.  She walks clear across the gate and gets some stranger over there to open it for her.  Mental.  She walked all the way back over here with it and then didn’t even drink it.  I don’t know where she got it into her mind that the guy over there could help her.  I was right there and more than capable.  Guess I’m not as manly as I like to think.

Alright, looks like I’m going to sign off for the day.  I arrive at Heathrow at about 6 am (their time) and then have about 3 hours to waste before the assigned coach comes to pick me up.  That’s right, I have an assigned driver.  Looking forward to a nap and a comfy plane.  The plane currently at my gate just boarded and now I’m the last person in the gate.  The crew is looking at me, but I’m ignoring them because I know what I’m doing.  I hope.

Cheers for duty free!

— Henry