Pond Hopping

A few moments from our journey here...

Switch-A-Roo

"Three kilos? That's like seven pounds, right?"

(I was close — it's 6.6.)

Thank goodness the British Airways check-in counter isn't crowded, because Chris and I are crouched over our open suitcases, moving things from his checked bag to mine, so we don't have to pay the overweight fee.

You see, it's not always the ladies who overpack.

Say My Name

"Did you check into your flight?" the boarding agent asks.

"How else would I have a gotten the boarding pass you just scanned?"

(I swear it sounded nicer than it reads.)

She takes me back to the counter. Boarding passes and passports are reviewed. Chris (who made it through the gate sans beeping) is called back over for his documents. Phone calls are made.

"You want to go to Heathrow, right?"

Hearts beat faster.

The other gate agent tries to joke with us. Chris is not having it, blames travel OCD. I practice a rather Americanized version of the Brits' stiff upper lip — smiling broadly as my eyes scream "WTF?!?"

Finally, a new boarding pass is printed and the crisis is averted. Apparently, they checked in my fellow passenger Leslie Browne twice instead of checking in each of us once.

This never happened when my last name was Muzslay.

A is for Apple and America

It's breakfast time. I'm jonesing for something fresher than this box meal, so I grab the apple I packed from home. The flight attendant looks over, wide eyed. Sounding a lot like Mrs. Patmore from Downton Abby, she says, "That's the biggest apple I've ever seen."

It look down at my rather average looking, organic apple and feel utterly American.