Destination: Blackpool

Travel Days: December 18 & 19, 2012

Back in August my brother and I thought it would be a good idea to travel to England for Christmas to spend time with relatives. An Aunt, our cousins, our mother’s cousins, etc. So we looked around for flights. We web searched flights, hotels, car rentals and all the other things that we could think of that revolved around our past trips to England when we were teenagers and young adults. But our late parents used to take care of all that “stuff”, so this was new territory for us.
After getting frustrated with the Air Canada and British Airways websites, and trying to balance points against cash, we decided we needed professional help. With the help of a marvelous travel expert at Marlin Travel, we booked with Air Transat. She offered us an upgrade to their Club Class, the almost equivalent of Business Class on other carriers for $300 each way. After careful consideration, well it was really my brother and I just glancing at each other for a second with raised eyebrows, we said yes. Even with the upgrade we saved hundreds of dollars off the web page regular economy fare on both British Airways and Air Canada.
Our travel expert also helped us with car rental, and a hotel near Gatwick Airport for the return journey. The well recommended hotel we wanted in Blackpool (when our sister-in-law approves of a hotel we listen closely), did not show up in the hotel database for the agent, so we booked that ourselves through Booking.com. The Premier Inn hotel webpage didn’t allow bookings longer than nine days, and we needed 12. Not sure why a stay over nine days couldn’t be booked on the webpage but that’s between them and the page designer, we found a workaround.
It snowed on our departure day. It’s not unusual to get snow in Vancouver, but not usually when I need to fly. But the weather, along with the roads cleared in time for me to pick up my brother and drop the car in the long term lot at the airport. We have a coupon from the travel company that made parking the car for two weeks cheaper than two cab fares from our respective homes. It’s half the cost of cab fares, plus the lot is fenced and patrolled.
We were early checking in at the airport, almost three hours before our flight. So we checked our bags at the Club Class priority counter, and after passing through Security (they still insist on having people removing their shoes in spite of the two year old memo from Transport Canada that said people don’t need to), we wandered the airport. Duty Free gin in its security friendly bag, Tim Horton’s Steeped Tea, that mornings Globe and Mail in hand, and e-books at the ready we settled into the wait for boarding.
Some of the many benefits of Club Class are priority boarding, wider seats, much greater leg room, and a wide choice of meals. Hot towels, appetizers, pre-takeoff champagne or orange juice, and dedicated service are just some of what you get for the extra money. It was worth every cent!

A couple of hours after take-off a request for a doctor or nurse went over the speakers. Then the portable oxygen tank from over our seats was taken out and disappeared into the back of the plane. My brother and I had a quick conversation about what a possible diversion might mean to our connection plans. The diversion will never materialize, but it’s always good to discuss contingencies.

In the air I passed on most of the inflight entertainment, sticking to the jazz audio channel, and one with some new music off a couple of albums titled Buddha Bar. It’s a kind of New Age, Smooth Jazz, and soft pop all rolled into one. I have to do research when I get home to find out more. It was great stress reducing music, and very dream friendly as I manage a few hours of rest.

We arrive at Gatwick airport the next day and a little earlier than scheduled. After a 45 minute lineup to clear passport control we gathered the luggage, and passed without challenge through Customs on the “Nothing To Declare” line. Unlike the guy they did pull over, suitcase open on the counter, and was heard to say as we passed “…I honestly don’t know how that got in there!” One of the Customs fellows looks ever so briefly at the two of us, and I saw in his eyes we were dismissed as “not likely to offend”. Boringly so, he was right.

We caught the inter-terminal shuttle train to check-in for our British Airways flight to Manchester. Entering the terminal we were greeted by a couple of BA elves handing out mince tarts courtesy of the airline. At the ticket kiosk we were helped a lot by attendant Roz to get our bags tagged and on the way.

Once again through security, this time without having to remove our shoes (they got the memo!) we settled in for the three hour wait for our connection. We booked a long layover in case of weather or plane delays. Better to sit around doing nothing for a couple of hours, than spending time rushing as if there’s no time left.

We wandered the airport shops, buying water, and checking out bookstores. We looked in the Harrod’s shop (all hand bags, ties, chocolate, jewelry, and such), watched the departure board in case our gate had been posted, and I bought a GPS (or SatNav as they’re called here). I tried to log into the airport Wi-Fi but my laptop could not see a signal. The departure gate was finally listed at 1710 local, for our 1740 departure.

The plane took off twenty minutes late. The Captain said something about maintenance paperwork, but I thought I overheard something along the lines of “Where are those darn starter keys?”.

In Manchester we are met by my late mother’s cousin. It’s always such a pleasure to see him and his wife. They have been kind enough to drive the hour down from Blackpool on a miserable wet and dark night to pick us up and drop us at the hotel. Along the way we chat about our mutual experiences driving in the American South.

At the hotel my brother and I check in. The clerk is kind and gives us rooms at the far end of a hall on the second floor, away from most of the foot traffic and noise.

In spite of our deep weariness, we have a quick dinner and beers in the bar attached to the hotel. I get a burger with a cheese like spread on the top of the bun. The meat is dry and tough, and I am saddened that this cow died in vain. My brother has bangers and mash, and is impressed.

It’s been almost 27 hours of cumulative travel, and we still need a plan for our first day here. So we lay a few things out but in the end we put it over for discussion at breakfast.