Quirks and Oddities

(Longish Post)

After a very relaxing and comfortable flight (see link in earlier post), we landed in Stansted Airport around 130pm local time. The signage that greeted us as we left the arrival terminal was worthy of capturing on film. As you can see, the egos of US citizens are well known. Just in case we didn't think we could be lumped with a common "rest of the world" title, the fine print made sure we were not confused.

We wandered around looking for the best way to get to our hotel at the Gatwick Airport and found a shuttle service for 25 GBP each. The agent said it would take three hours to get to Gatwick, and I admit that surprised me. Three hours and still be in the same city? Odd...

Odder still, it actually took closer to four or five hours to make it to Gatwick... and it was SUNNY! I broke into a muggy sweat and glared at my stalker sun, why hasn't it taken the hint that I don't want to see it?? Upon our arrival at Gatwick we thought our journey was finally nearing an end. We thought wrong.

After asking around at a few kiosks proclaiming their ability to answer such questions (and proving them wrong), we found a woman who really had all the answers. Another mile hike with all our luggage and coats in tow found us in front of the shuttle bus that would take us to our final, FINALLY, final destination (for that night). It also found us in the company of our rather loquacious bus driver.

I should have taken a picture of him on his throne, but I was a bit too preoccupied with my weariness and desire for dinner, shower and bed. Please accept my apologies. What would have been better than a picture though, would have been a video so you could enjoy him first hand. He kept up a light, teasing banter with... well, himself... throughout our 45 min drive. Yes... 45 mins and we're still considered on airport grounds? Into what strange universe have we stumbled?

I feel fortunate in the route he took us (via two other hotels before ours) however, as it let us see Gatwick's first line of defense up close and personal. Vicious, frightening looking... attack rabbits. Yes, dear reader, I must proclaim that my mind was put immediately at ease upon seeing this sight. Surely, no harm could ever come to us with these Ministry of Defense special forces guarding us.

It was explained that they were trained to sniff out suspicious looking characters and converge in a wild, fanged frenzy. If the suspicious suspect put up too much of a fight, they would immediately explode and cover said suspect so the second line of defense - security guards - would know his location. Though very messy sounding, we were assured this had proven a very effective way of doing things.

Upon arriving at our hotel, we were informed we should catch the 3am shuttle back to the airport to not miss our flight to Glasgow in the morning. I nearly wept. Nearly. With brave faces, we checked in and went up to our room. As Anna mentioned the lifts were tiny and I'd like to see the 8 people who could have fit in them, Pygmy or no.

After a quick dinner of fish and chips (and peas! odd odd odd), I went to the front desk and requested a wake-up call for 2am (about six hours from the current time) and was informed that, per policy, they did not do wake-up calls, but the TV had a convenient alarm feature. I messed with the TV while Anna took a bath and was not left with a very confident feeling that the small beeping would be able to rouse us. I took my shower and then tried to sleep, but I was so worried that we'd oversleep that I think I got about an hour, perhaps two, total.

We got to the airport and checked in, with three hours to kill before our flight left... Thanks talky busdriver dude! (better early than late, yes I know :P) We stopped at Starbucks to look over the breakfast fare. Once it opened I stood in line to make our order while Anna kept guard over our carry-ons. They had an array of breakfast foods that I'd not seen before. I picked up a cheese sandwich, feeling confident, I am a Cheese Whore after all, and read the fine print.

There happens to be a lot of fine print over here, and it behooves one to read it. Cheese and Marmite... what is Marmite?? I turned to the man behind me and said, "What exactly -is- this?" He told me it was like Posgoidijosdf (yeah I didn't catch what he'd actually said, darn Englishman not speaking American!). My expression must have been sufficiently blank because he patiently described what he'd said to compare Marmite with. I caught the word "beef" and crinkled my nose, putting the panini back saying I didn't care for beef.

He went on to explain that Marmite is a vegetable version of Posgoidijosdf, well that didn't sound so bad. "So... like a vegetable spread?" Relief flooded his eyes as he nodded, Hallelujah! We'd overcome our language barrier! He said it had a strong taste and took some getting used to... Vegemite came to mind and I almost put it back again, but I decided something along the lines of "when in Rome..." and moved along the line with my little experiment.

The guy behind the counter reached for it saying he would heat it. I handed it to him and then his lips moved again and I'm sure words were coming out, but shockingly enough I didn't understand one of them! I very eloquently said, "Uhh... huh?" and he repeated himself, impossibly more garbled than the first time. So I raised his garble with a very satisfying, "What??" He looked at me oddly and (thankfully!) slowed down, "Take this number and we'll give a holler when its ready." Ahhhh! That made sense...

To satisfy the curious, I am, in fact, a fan of the Marmite! Anna had chosen a tasty berry muffin for her meal, but she was game to try mine and found it to her liking as well.

After finishing our breakfast, we still had a couple of hours and so we went walking. This interesting water fountain was in the middle of one of the floors. The path leads to the mysterious 57-60 gates, but not, fine print again, to gate 58... so don't even TRY to get there that way.

Our flight was quick, time enough for breakfast... which the stewardess spilled the "scolding" hot juice of onto my legs. It burned, but only briefly and it was more out of surprise that I squeaked. I assured them everything was fine, but they were kind enough to bring a bunch of paper towels and stain remover wipies. I'm sure they will come in handy later, I am not really known for my grace (despite what I said in an earlier post).

We shared our row with a nice lady who'd originally been flying to Edinburgh but was routed to our flight after hers was cancelled. She enthusiastically took pictures of our entrance to Scotland which I'm sure will be posted soon. To wrap up this insanely long post, I will say we found our tourbus and happily joined our tour guide. I will continue our story in another couple of posts. Hopefully, we'll be able to keep up with them now, so you won't have so much to wade through ;)