Big Plane, Little Plane
I left home just before 7 a.m. yesterday morning and finally arrived in Chicago last night at around 9.00 p.m. local time. I had acquired a deaf right ear and a banging migraine behind the right eye along the way but after 19 hours travelling I am here so all is good. Now it’s 7.30 here and I have left my dorm mates (a French girl, a German girl and an unknown) snoring gently in the hottest bedroom in the known universe which seems to smell of stale alcohol this morning… For once, not mine.
I had to take two planes yesterday. A giant one for the transatlantic leg to Ottowa, where I was right in the middle of the middle section, next to a man from the Village People on my right who shared his white wine with me and a Canadian lady on my left, who (selfishly I thought!) did not. The second plane was a little one, very narrow. It only sits two and then one either side of the aisle. I was in the single seat but despite feeling a bit concerned, the pilot was chatty and gave us prior information about bumpiness, which I decided helps. In the event, it was not too bad at all, and I can recommend a phobia hypnotherapist in Southend-On-Sea, should anyone need one. I can also report that Chicago O’Hare airport is a piece of work. We came into land on a northern runway – planes of a similar (small) size were just queuing up behind us with one landing every minute or two. At one point I thought a jumbo was headed right for us as we made our descent over Lake Michigan, but they have their own runway, fortunately. The airport is massive and hugely busy. Still it’s nice; it smells of popcorn and they have some art projects showcased with local kids. Seems like they certainly know how to do an airport here in Illinois. I could have taken loads of photos yesterday once airport side, but as I could hardly stand up, or see straight I didn’t 🙂 Because of my taking a connecting flight in Ottowa, I was able to clear US customs and immigration there, a nice quiet Canadian airport surrounded by piles of dirty snow. US immigration always put me on my mettle, they seem so cross. Anyway, despite my feeling they might put me right back on a plane to the UK, they have let me in, but not before a lot of questions, fingerprinting and a photograph.
The train from O’Hare is interesting. They tell you off for something you might do after every station stop. No eating, gambling, littering, putting luggage on seats and plenty of other mini travelling crimes that as I had never thought of before, I seem to have now forgotten. Anyway, I can feel that this is gently rambling, so I will end it here. I feel like I am still moving – this happens to me after a long trip and I am sure it will settle in a day or so. The deaf ear I can do without. It makes me seem like even more of an old dear than I already do in this hostel filled with youngsters.
Sorry, for any typos, I feel like I am typing on the poop deck in a gale, so re-reading is out of the question. Also, no pictures as I am doing this on a hostel computer. Same language, separated by a different keyboard. Keep getting a \ instead of a
Next challenge: driving.