Back to the real world
Nov. 1st, 2009 08:21 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
skyringYesterday (Friday) I was in San Francisco, riding cable cars and enjoying the sparkling blue view out over the bay.
Today, I'm home, having dinner at Mecca Bah and coffee at Artoven.
I made my appointment at the Apple Store, and Chris, my Genius, was able to restore the software on my iPhone. Syncing it could be more problematic, but at least it's working.
I had a look around for clothes and shoes. Bought some supersize shoes for DS, but gave up on clothes for me - besides, I was pretty sure that I'd put on weight in America. Took the cable car back down Hyde to Fishermans' Wharf, had a look around for sailors caps, but the only ones on offer were black and perhaps a bit too highly ornamented for cab work.
Spent the afternoon in the hostel kitchen drinking coffee and hanging out on the internet. Left my moka pot there in return for a mug I stole from the hostel's floating collection.
Collected my bags and changed clothing. Organised stuff for travel - like make sure Swiss Army pocket knife is in checked bags.
Shuttle arrived a bit after six, and it was a very efficient ride to the airport. Certainly a lot cheaper than the $60 cab ride in, though there was only the one of me, instead of two and a tonne of baggage.
Checkin was a breeze at the elite end of the counter, but the TSA totally destroyed my good mood. They had one of these new body imaging things, and while I don't particularly care if someone admires the shape of my middle aged body through the clothing, I'm not keen on turning this way and that and lifting my arms over my head to let them look at me from all angles. Far easier to just walk through the gate, which is why I have cargo pants and a plastic belt so the thing doesn't beep.
So when i was motioned through the bodyperver, I refused and went through the normal gate instead. Turns out if you opt out, you get a pat down search, and they wanted me to take my belt off. That pissed me right off, because the belt is a hassle to get on and off. And then dickhead security star took my chewing gum and lip balm off to run through the x-ray, while my bags and computer and documents sat unattended on the conveyor and I fumed in the search box.
Had hassles in the lounge as well, getting a shower and wifi. So I hoed into the Pommery, draining five flutes, while installing the writer's tool software I'd bought that morning. When my flight was called, we were gathered into the library, the rear door of the BA lounge was opened, and we were taken straight onto the aircraft.
My seat was 35A once again, which mapped into Premium Economy, so I had plenty of room, albeit over the wing. Watched The Time Traveller's Wife, Up and The Hangover. All good movies, though I like the first the best.
Poured my novel into the software, wrote a few emails, dozed and even read some. Quite a pleasant flight.
About four in the morning I looked out - four Sydney time, that is, probably later where we were somewhere north of NZ. There was a thin band of gold on the horizon, deeper blue above, and just over the wing two pointers led the eye to a cross of stars. Home again!
Lengthy wait going through immigration and customs. Next time I go to the toilet BEFORE collecting my bags. That's all there is to it. Customs took a good look through my bags, hunting down the food items I'd ticked on the form. Gum and American lollies.
Had a shower - eventually - in the domestic lounge, copious coffee and internet. My Q400 flight was efficient, and before I knew it, I was in the smiling arms of my wife and children, loading the baggage into the new car - "champagne oyster" Golf, and then distributing sweeties and books to my happy family.
Followed by a well-needed nap. Dinner at Mecca Bah, coffee at Artoven, quick blog and I'm off to bed, thank you very much!
And a text plus photo from my co-driver. The owner has managed to crash the new cab, so there'll be no driving for a bit. ***SIGH***
Today, I'm home, having dinner at Mecca Bah and coffee at Artoven.
I made my appointment at the Apple Store, and Chris, my Genius, was able to restore the software on my iPhone. Syncing it could be more problematic, but at least it's working.
I had a look around for clothes and shoes. Bought some supersize shoes for DS, but gave up on clothes for me - besides, I was pretty sure that I'd put on weight in America. Took the cable car back down Hyde to Fishermans' Wharf, had a look around for sailors caps, but the only ones on offer were black and perhaps a bit too highly ornamented for cab work.
Spent the afternoon in the hostel kitchen drinking coffee and hanging out on the internet. Left my moka pot there in return for a mug I stole from the hostel's floating collection.
Collected my bags and changed clothing. Organised stuff for travel - like make sure Swiss Army pocket knife is in checked bags.
Shuttle arrived a bit after six, and it was a very efficient ride to the airport. Certainly a lot cheaper than the $60 cab ride in, though there was only the one of me, instead of two and a tonne of baggage.
Checkin was a breeze at the elite end of the counter, but the TSA totally destroyed my good mood. They had one of these new body imaging things, and while I don't particularly care if someone admires the shape of my middle aged body through the clothing, I'm not keen on turning this way and that and lifting my arms over my head to let them look at me from all angles. Far easier to just walk through the gate, which is why I have cargo pants and a plastic belt so the thing doesn't beep.
So when i was motioned through the bodyperver, I refused and went through the normal gate instead. Turns out if you opt out, you get a pat down search, and they wanted me to take my belt off. That pissed me right off, because the belt is a hassle to get on and off. And then dickhead security star took my chewing gum and lip balm off to run through the x-ray, while my bags and computer and documents sat unattended on the conveyor and I fumed in the search box.
Had hassles in the lounge as well, getting a shower and wifi. So I hoed into the Pommery, draining five flutes, while installing the writer's tool software I'd bought that morning. When my flight was called, we were gathered into the library, the rear door of the BA lounge was opened, and we were taken straight onto the aircraft.
My seat was 35A once again, which mapped into Premium Economy, so I had plenty of room, albeit over the wing. Watched The Time Traveller's Wife, Up and The Hangover. All good movies, though I like the first the best.
Poured my novel into the software, wrote a few emails, dozed and even read some. Quite a pleasant flight.
About four in the morning I looked out - four Sydney time, that is, probably later where we were somewhere north of NZ. There was a thin band of gold on the horizon, deeper blue above, and just over the wing two pointers led the eye to a cross of stars. Home again!
Lengthy wait going through immigration and customs. Next time I go to the toilet BEFORE collecting my bags. That's all there is to it. Customs took a good look through my bags, hunting down the food items I'd ticked on the form. Gum and American lollies.
Had a shower - eventually - in the domestic lounge, copious coffee and internet. My Q400 flight was efficient, and before I knew it, I was in the smiling arms of my wife and children, loading the baggage into the new car - "champagne oyster" Golf, and then distributing sweeties and books to my happy family.
Followed by a well-needed nap. Dinner at Mecca Bah, coffee at Artoven, quick blog and I'm off to bed, thank you very much!
And a text plus photo from my co-driver. The owner has managed to crash the new cab, so there'll be no driving for a bit. ***SIGH***
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Date: 2009-11-01 11:08 am (UTC)