London to India

It was so wonderful to spend an hour talking with one of my first cousins, Galen-( now 25)- as we headed towards the airport. He was kind enough to take that load off my sister and her husbands hands- as their support would be quite measurable in the coming days- a month of watching Ellison! Galen and I chatted quite easily and sufficiently to cover the distance. It is great to cover a few dreams in that short amount of time- his and mine.

I arrived good and early at the airport- and thought about going to Legal Seafood, (one of my favorite restaurants) and having a bowl of lobster bisque- in my thoughts I imagined calling my husband to tell him that I was doing just that- the reason, revenge, besides the fact that their food is so delicious- David always calls me from Legal Seafood when he is at the Boston airport, and I am not there. Pretty sure ,it is an in my face, nanny, nanny poo poo! It was a nice reverie, but I forged on through security and held steady on my course. Although it would have been a nice reversal of fortune.

Virgin Airlines was to be my second flight- and I was getting on it to travel to London first. I resisted the urge to grab a Starbucks coffee- I didn't want to start messing with my sleep cycle now- not with caffeine, I also was determined to stay off caffeine for the duration of my trip anyhoo- for reasons only known to pregnant people. When I was pregnant once upon a time- one of my biggest symptoms was sore breasts- and not just the regular variety-extremely sore breasts- and so- I decided that it would be in my best interest when wondering, say a month or so from now-If I was pregnant, that I might be able to tell, especially if I keep caffeine from swelling my breast tissue. I reasoned that if they hurt- there would be not too many other causes. I like to try and guess if I am pregnant- long before I take the test. One of the many little games I like to play with myself.
I traveled quite nicely a 6.5 hour journey to Heathrow Airport in London. The time was passed spottily- I had a wonderful conversation with a British couple- who lived in London and shared my seat, they had children there- I was already living tiredly in to my future- and at times felt troubled to keep the conversation at all, bleary eyed from not too much sleep the night before-. I figured it was the perfect set up for a nice sleep-but as usual, as tired as I felt- I had brief fitfull sleep periods- and would have to guess that I didn't sleep much at all. I arrived about 7:30 a.m London time- and knew I had 2.5 hours to catch my next flight- I had fancied the thought of shopping at the airport- and checking out the chocolates there, with my 2.5 hours extra time,because Caroline says they are the best in the world. This was not to be. Instead I followed signs for Mumbai India- for Virgin Islands- thinking that I was of course continuing a Virgin Islands trip- So I ended up going through a long line in security- It certainly looked appropriate- I was one of only two white people and every one in this line certainly looked to be from India. Gotta be right. Wrong! After being in this line forever, I found at the end- the Virgin Island counter- she informed me I needed to be in terminal 4. I not knowing that the airport was as big as it was ( I believe the largest hub in the world), didn't know, I now needed to board a bus to get there. Of course she gave me no information on what plane, if not Virgin airlines- that I needed to board. Luckily one other Indian man, suffered the same fate and we bonded a little over the fact- and ended up in a similar path. It only added some comfort- when he told me that he was instructed to be in terminal 3 from an official. I wasn't alone in my suffering- and we both held our breath that we would make our plane after all. While on the bus- headed through this huge airport- I studied my itinerary, and in very small print, found some little blurb that said Jet Airways- I now had a clue- but still wasn't too sure. He (the Indian gentleman)definitely didn't have a clue- We arrived to another long "que" as the British call it ( I believe it to mean, another damn long line!"- )I had to go through security all over again, which took even longer than the first one- and of course the line was full of people of a whole different race and skin color than mine- pretty sure again- that I was in the right place.
The Indian gentle man ended up just behind me by about 5 minutes- giving me a chance to try and gain my bearings. I furtively, glanced through all the airline name hoping to see something like, Virgin Atlantic, or my clue- Jet Airways- seeing nothing I continued to another area- out of sight, and there it was. I was able to call over the other guy and he stood by me, as I waited about 20 minutes for the first person to clear in front of me. Now hurried- the Indian man behind me, we shared the common language we had- rolling our eyes at the absolute crazy slowness of our process. We felt in a rush, not even knowing if we were in the right place-and it took 20 minutes for one person to clear in front of me. In America- this would have been so fast. Not to mention ,no one would meet my eyes, or move quickly. I bit my tongue. I felt like I was in the N.Y. toll booth, or subway and was a stranger that didn't know there way around- the feeling you get when no one cares, and you need them too, and they move slowly, answer you with no kindness in their voice and look bored, and tired of people, and I am pretty sure must hate there jobs. I was really chomping at the bit to be sure I was in the right place- and sure enough my detective work paid off- but, I couldn't believe the lack of communication that had been a part of that whole experience. I finally met my gate with no time to spare. I can't believe I thought that I would have all this time to shop.

Meanwhile my period started 4 days earlier than expected- I was walking around with no spare "Euros" to purchase any kind of supplies to help my situation, and worse I was to late to catch my flight to stop at a bathroom. I worried then - would this ruin my whole cycle? The whole reason I was here, the whole mission-? I didn't have any answers and had an 11 hour flight now- to obsess about it. Would all this planning and all this cost be a waste of time?........