this trip's overview

(about the Islands)

SFO to LHR

stranded!

LHR to LHR

spending Iberia's money

baggage arrives

along the beachfront

visiting el Medico

Isaac's first haircut

R & R

Faro Maspalomas

cockroaches!

San Fernando

All over...

Puerto de Rico & Puerto de Mogán

el penultimo

on to London

Wednesday 08 January 2003

As apologetic and supportive as the Virgin plane crew were, the ground staff are venal and evasive. Disregarding their tardy departure, and in what isn't a best moment for Virgin, they disgracefully waffle and run: they use the excuse of snow to leave us with any assistance at all. No, they can't reschedule anything. No, no hotel; act of God, so sorry, bye-bye now. I'm pretty unhappy, being a previously happy customer of Virgin. I've got two exhausted kids, an even more tired wife, and now I have to drag them around the airport.

Virgin, in terminal 2, directs us to Iberia, in terminal 3. We take kids into the freezing cold, onto a bus, through a long security queue, and into a long Iberia queue. Iberia claims to have no help for us, but directs us to British Airways, which is the co-operator of this flight. (Why this should matter, as my ticket is from Iberia, is beyond me.) We trudge down the hall and find the main ticket area. After a three-quarter hour wait in the BA line, an absolutely frothing employee unloads her career-long displeasure with Iberia and refuses to consider helping at all. So back into another Iberia line I go. This clerk says they can rebook, but that I should really go back to Virgin to have them give us a hotel room for the night, since they were responsible for us missing the flight. Bus, terminal 2, security, another line, different Virgin representative, same reprehensible behavior. Sorry, can't help, go see Iberia. Bus, terminal 3, security, long line, same Iberia representative. You can go confirmed to Madrid-Barajas (MAD) this afternoon and then standby for an already-overbooked evening flight onwards. I really don't want to risk being stranded further down the pipe, and surrounded by throngs of exhausted travellers I decide to have them book us with confirmed seats tomorrow morning at 07:30. By now it's been around six hours that I've been going from line to line. I thought we were used up as we landed, now everyone's frayed. But the kids are persevering, dealing with few distractions and crowds. I'm so proud of them. Of Rose too.

Now what to do? We're to board in less than twelve hours. Start the process of finding a hotel, get a ride there, spend a few hours (in bed, after a warm shower), and then wake up long before the crack of dawn to get back? We discuss it and decide to make the best of it at the airport. We're directed one floor below, to the comfort area.

The first place we pick is cold and drafty because there are large open doors to the outside. Nearby is the smoking lounge and an arcade. I bring some warm food, but it's just too cold. We explore, find a man playing a piano in another area, and settle down there. I get everyone to sleep, take this picture, and write these words.

Heathrow staff then tell us that all-night construction will be going on in this, the main hall, and bid us to head back to the comfort area. He sees the kids, and asks if we're doing well. I say "yes", but note that our experience of cold. He suggests we try the other side of the smoking room, by the arcade, and adds he'll be by to bring us blankets.

This he does. Big blankets of wool, and then more. I make real bedrolls. Then they're back with hot cocoa! There are several dozen of the damned and stranded here, all making community. One woman brings us several plum drinks from her visit to Pret-A-Manger, another keeps an eye on the kids as we're busy getting things ready. All in all a fun time, except that we'd really rather be at our destination. Well, it could always be much, much worse.

Jet lag kicks in, and the kids are up at midnight. The relentless sound of the arcade is too disturbing to sleep, and too enticing to the waking. For hours Isaac and Lila play on all sorts of arcade games. Beloved is the side-by-side car-racing game.

We stroll to the main area to see the construction, the nearby Formula-One racing car, and the unexpectedly open coffee bar. [All the food and drink at Heathrow is scandalously expensive. Isaac's hot cocoa is US$5. A miserable way of taking advantage of travellers. For the record, SFO has a policy whereby the restaurants charge the same price as their off-airport branches.] Here we are enjoying the hideously pricey drinks at 03:00.

I convince Isaac to sleep, and I think the boy's club gets ninety minutes or perhaps even two hours of much-needed sleep before being woken at 06:00. Rose is still minding Lila, chasing her around the arcade. Poor Rose, she hasn't had more than a few hours of sleep in the last two days. I break camp, such as it is, and am able to load our packs, clean up our food, fold the blankets, and get Isaac into my arms before he fully wakes.

Then we continue our trip, heading to the terminal 2 international departure area.

previous

next