Homeward Bound

Sunday came and found London being hit by a Spring snow storm. The large flurries outside the window of our hotel reminded us of home, as did the fact we had a 777 waiting for us at Heathrow. We finished packing our replacement bags and headed down for a late breakfast. Everyone else had the same idea, apparently, as the hotel breakfast area was packed with people for the first time all week. We lingered for a while eating our last English breakfast while Janie went online to take the quiz she needed to have completed for school by midnight that night, then headed back up to our rooms.

Feeling the weight of our bags, we thought better of the idea of taking the Tube out to Heathrow and decided to call a taxi instead. After a few attempts over the phone, J. R. finally went to the front desk and they arranged for a car to pick us up at noon. That gave us a little time to walk around near the hotel and take some pictures of snowy London.

Heathrow and Home

After that, it was off to the airport. The driver took us on a scenic route to the motorway and dropped us off as close as he could to Terminal 4. After a long wait, we checked in, making a few 'abusive' remarks to the BA agent about our luggage floating somewhere around the place and then stood in line for security. The line was long and slow-moving and it seemed everyone was getting pulled aside for extra scrutiny, us included.

We needed some lunch, so we settled for a stop at Wetherspoons where Janie and J. R. split some curry and the kids had chicken fingers for our final European meal. BA was being slow in providing a gate number for our flight, so we did a little shopping, picking up a 'fuzzy dude bear' from Harrod's and some Belgian chocolates we had neglected to look for in Paris before finding a place to sit down. Rebecca launched into tantrum mode, apparently having just had her fill, leading to a restroom trip where Janie seriously considered leaving the Princess in Europe. After a talk that included a discussion on her Barbie dolls finding themselves in a dustbin, she finally calmed down.

Eventually BA instructed us to go to Gate 1A, where it seemed most of the airport was sitting, so we stood around waiting for our flight to be called a half-hour late. Janie was pulled aside to have her bag checked, probably because of the two Coke bottles tucked in its side pockets (as George and Gordon's War on Liquids and Squishy Things continues). But we were finally escorted to a bus, which patrolled the parking lots for a while. (We think they were looking for where they hid the plane, which we were worried was lost somewhere over in Terminal 5). After a short hike up the staircase (more stairs, Janie was heard to exclaim), we sat down in our seats to prepare for the long flight home. Rebecca was entertained by Monsters, Inc. and Enchanted and Janie and I shared a few laughs watching Nicolas Cage in National Treasure 2 drive around all the places we'd just seen in Paris and London. The flight was uneventful, we were welcomed home by U.S. immigration, our replacement bags had miraculously been delivered to Chicago by BA, and we called our limo company to pick us up and take us home.