Episode Eight – A Long Way Home

Alright, so right at this moment I’m sitting in Detroit Airport and the fire alarm is going off but nobody’s moving so I guess there’s no fire…? Well, in any case, I’m on my way home now. If I don’t die in a blaze then I should be making it in to Edinburgh Airport at around 9am Scottish time. Which means I’ll have been travelling for like, nineteen hours.

I say “travelling”, but up until now there hasn’t been much of that going on. My flight out of Columbus was delayed by two hours – first of all we were told it was because the plane was late coming in but then the pilot said it was something to do with a “maintenance discrepancy”. That, coupled with the fire alarm here in Detroit that’s only just stopped, is leading me to be somewhat concerned that I am going to die today. Anyway, I didn’t start from the beginning. Where was I?

Ok, so Blake’s birthday was the day after I left, so Grant and I had gone out to the mall so I could buy him a slingshot and some BBs. We fashioned a target out of cardboard boxes, old-school-style, so I left that with them. I think he’ll like it a lot. He’s into paintball and CoD, and he spends a lot of time outside, so it seemed very ‘him’. Anyway, as it turned out, I had my own gift from the household to collect. This morning I realised I’d got my flight time wrong and we didn’t have to leave as early as I’d thought, so I ended up seeing Mrs. Stubbins on our way out, and she cried and gestured towards a gift bag on the kitchen table, which I opened in the car on the way out to Columbus airport. The day before, while I’d been packing, Grant had told me of a “very important thing” he was doing which meant I had to stay in his room until he told me it was safe to go upstairs, and it turns out he’d been composing a photo album with a whole bunch of pictures from my visit to the States! It’s really, really amazing. In the bag there was also a travel-kit thing, with luggage tags, bookmarks and a passport holder, which was super-sweet. And when Grant’s mum started to cry I knew I was doomed – I just managed to make it to the car before I started really tearing up. It didn’t help that Mrs. Stubbins called Grant in the car, all upset because she’d promised Blake she’d wake him before we left and she’d forgotten and he wasn’t pleased. I was really touched that they were nearly as sad as I was about my departure. And then Mr. Stubbins called me from work to apologise for having left before we did… So basically, by the time we got to the airport, I was a bit of a mess.

Yeah, so I was a mess, but I had a flight itinerary to match – my flight from Columbus to Detroit had been delayed, so my layover time was cut in half. The lady was really helpful, and offered to put me on a different, slightly earlier, flight; but I didn’t really fancy sitting around all alone in Michigan when I could be in Ohio with Grant, who of course offered to stay with me until I had to leave. Two hours later than I’d bargained for, we finally said goodbye and I headed through security. The security man said “Hi there, how you doin?” and then took one look at me and decided it was a stupid question. “Great!” I said ironically with a loud sniff, and he laughed. I guess he must get a lot of crying girls coming through – departure gates are sad places. But I pulled myself together and went through and got on my plane. I was stuck in the very front seat and my iPod was out of charge, but I got to Detroit in plenty of time for my connection, as is illustrated by the fact that I was sitting writing my blog while the fire alarm went off. I hope there’s never a real fire in Detroit Airport – everybody just sort of sat around, not knowing what to do. I guess in a real fire they probably would’ve had people making announcements. But I did wonder if maybe some T-words had set off the fire alarm as a distraction… I guess I could still die as a result of the airport’s incompetence. I have 4 hours and 16 minutes in which I could be blown to smithereens.

Let’s not think about that. I’m in the middle of the plane, it’s one of those ones with rows of seats at either side AND another one in the centre. There’s a guy in front of me and slightly to the left, who has all the features that George W. Bush shares with a monkey. And he has an iPad. There’s a baby next to me but she’s been quiet since take-off, and she’s really cute. Dubya kept looking over judgementally while we were taxiing and she was crying, and I was like, BV man, she can’t help it. I didn’t say it, but that’s what I was thinking.

I told myself I’d sleep on the plane. It’s five to 1pm Michigan-time, but it’s ten to midnight in Scotland and I’m pretty damn beat. I can’t be certain that I ever really beat jet lag in the first place. So I just had plane-chicken, which I’ve decided was my dinner, and I ordered red wine in the hope that it’ll help me sleep. No more TV-watching, no more reading, no more music-listening, no more blogging. I’m going to sleep as soon as I finish this glass.

Still going on the assumption that my audience is restricted to my close family and Grant, I guess I’ll be seeing most of you soon! Until then,





Filed under America

2 responses to “Episode Eight – A Long Way Home

  1. You better keep this blog going even though you’ve returned from the States


  2. Whoops… my computer was still logged into your account

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