Welcome Back to Blighty

For his birthday, Charles asked only that he be allowed to get off the plane here in England. In other words, he wanted our marathon travel experience to be over, and to fall into the welcoming arms of the delicious and much-missed Bart and Tony.

Long story short*: success! As you can see above, Bart remains as saucy as always. Perhaps a tad saucier.


And Tony's grown a bit of a faux-hawk for our visit. We love it, and might obtain some hair gel so Iain can copy the look.

Kira, who as you can see is totally relaxed, couldn't care less whether Iain's hair goes up in the middle or not. She just wants a nice brush down.


It's spring, so Kira and Cooper are shedding like mad. Bart and I rewarded their excellent baby behavior (Cooper is so patient) with fifteen minutes of solid brushing. That put a tiny dent in their piles of thick, glossy fur. A tiny dent. Iain finds them, and Cooper especially, very interesting. I wonder if he thought all dogs were brown with short hair.


Here's the birthday boy, relaxing after our epic journey. It's so nice to sink into a puffy leather sofa, enjoy a cuppa, and know that no one is going to demand to see our passport for a good while.

*Long story:

• We waited for an hour and a half in the line to check in at Dulles. The reason the line took so long was two-fold. First, British Airways had 3 lines, and they checked in people on earlier flights with 3 or 4 members of staff. They allocated only one woman to our line, since we departed later. Second, a party of about 20 had a single person in the line. When he got to the front, the entire mechanism ground to a halt. It turned out that he was checking in all 20 of the party, and checking more than 50 bags. You read that right. It took more than an hour, and in that time the line failed to move at all. At. All. Finally, the earlier flights finished and a bunch of people came to work our line. By that time, the Party of 20 had completely blocked the aisle. Thanks, dudes.
• We waited for another 45 minutes in the security line. There were two reasons for this, as well. First, that's just Dulles. Everyone has to pass through a single terminal before scattering, so that makes for long lines. No problem there, it's just an architectural thing. Second, the family ahead of us did this: try to pass through with baby food, including liquids. When the folks working the machines said no, they sent their adolescent son back through the lines, past security, without his passport or boarding pass, running with a bag of stuff. You can imagine that the result of this was not pretty. So we stood there for 15 solid minutes, 10 feet from the X-ray machine, unable to move forward. On the plus side, these folks were really nice and just obviously clueless.
  
• So, if you're keeping track, we got to Dulles at 6pm and walked up to our gate at 8:15 for an 8:45 departure. That became 9:30. By that time Iain had missed his supper, missed his bedtime, and was freaking out.
  
• People tried hard to be nice. I wish they hadn't. What I mean is, Iain kept crying, almost asleep, his eyes closing. At the moment when he was just about asleep, but still crying, someone (another mother, a flight attendant) would pop by with something to "help." Iain, of course, woke up. So that prolonged the agony. He only finally fell asleep at about midnight, then slept in our laps from then until landing (at 4am EST). We bought him a ticket, but he slept in his carseat for about 30 minutes of the entire flight. It proved an awesome place to scream his head off, though.
• Last but not least, there was the final challenge to be overcome. We got off the plane last. The sweet flight attendant who'd brought Iain a Paddington Bear Emergency Freakout Kit chatted us up as we packed his stuff and woke him up. She didn't mention, though, the twenty metal steps waiting at the door. Yes, that's right. We had to carry Iain and his stroller (30 lbs) down 20 steps while also carrying our luggage. After a sleepless night. Joy.
• Really, really last: Heathrow was, yet again, one of the nicest places we've ever arrived. Logical signs, an outstanding family restroom with a baby changing station, and a customs process that was friendly, professional, helpful and efficient. We felt welcome. Thank you, England.