Bus Plane Tube Train

Today was a long, looong, looooong day.

A few highlights from it, in order of occurrence

 

Bus (Normal to O'Hare Airport)

Driver, to the elderly woman two people ahead of me: Where are you going?​

Woman: O'Hare

Driver: Which terminal?

Woman: O'Hare

Driver takes her suitcase and puts it aside, turning to her younger traveling companion.

Driver: So where are you going?

Woman 2, looking confused: O'Hare? The airport?

Driver: Yes, but which terminal?

Woman 2, looking blankly at him, even more confused: The airport. We are going to the airport. O'Hare?

Driver, still attempting to find out which terminal: What airline are flying?

Woman, looking confused but now with a hint of panic: The airport? We are going to the airport.

Driver takes her suitcase and sets it aside until all the other bags are on.

Not sure where they are getting off, but it will definitely be at O'Hare. The airport.

Update: At O'Hare, the women showed no sign of getting off at any terminal.  At T3, the driver asked them if they had decided where they were going to get off, since there was only one more stop, at T5. The older woman asked if we were at the “airport proper”, and the driver didnt know what she meant. So off we went to T5. On the way, they got a phone call. Turned out that the person who was meeting them there was at T1. And they weren't flying on any airline, they were just meeting at the airport because it was the closest point to the other person's home. So they were left at T5 and, I suppose, eventually made their way back to T1.

 

Plane (O'Hare to London Heathrow)

When I checked in for my flight, I was able to change my righthand aisle seat for a lefthand one a couple of rows up (I hate clashing elbows with righties when it is time to eat). At that time, the rest of the row was empty, and I hoped it might remain that way. No such luck. I heard the guy on the other aisle seat of my row tell the flight attendant that he had hoped he would have the row to himself, too. Heh. And in between us were two very cute young men. Unfortunately, I was the lucky one who got to sit next to the one that had apparently not showered for several days. Dinner was excellent, though it took forever for them to get it out. After that, I got a decent amount of sleep, I think (hard to say). I woke up when they switched the lights on for breakfast. The pilot announced that we had actually caught a jet stream tailwind, and were going to be arriving at Heathrow a full hour early! And at 7 a.m., there were virtually no other passengers in the immigration area. I actually walked past a lot of the stanchions and straight up to a desk with no more than a 15 second delay. Pretty amazing!

It was easy to find the tube ticket window, though the gate machine confused me a little. After running into the unmoving barrier, I realized that I had to put my ticket into the machine first.

Tube (Heathrow to King's Cross station)

When we got on the train, the car was nearly empty and we had our choice of seats. I chose one near the door with my two bags. There were two American men at the other end of the car giggling over the name of the final stop, Cockfosters, and every time it was announced they lost it. They found it highly amusing for at least two stops. Very mature. As we progressed toward the city center, the car became more and more full of commuters going in to work. In fact, it was full to the point that I was beginning to wonder how I was going to get through the crowd, with my bags, to get off when it was time. But most of the crowd off at Piccadilly Circus, and by the time we reached King's Cross we were back to almost empty.

At King's Cross, I went to see Platform 9 ¾. It was actually a touristy-type thing where they took your picture and you could view it (and presumably buy it) at the Harry Potter store nearby. So, no, thanks. Then I walked the 1/3 mile down to Euston Station, stopping for two geocaches and one attempt on the way.

I had several hours to spend, so I wandered around and did a little shopping at Boots, then sat down at an outside table to have a baguette with chicken and bacon for lunch.  It was such a perfectly pleasant day that I was just sitting there, enjoying being outside, when a woman and her son asked if they could share my table. Turned out they were from Norway, just over for the week to do some back-to-school clothes shopping. We got into a long discussion about the Norway education system, being a divorced parent, what the boy wanted to do when he finished school, and a number of other topics, until it was time for me to go watch for my train to Scotland.

It took me a bit to figure out how to know when my train was there, and after I puzzled over the big electronic board for awhile, I asked a woman if she knew how it worked. She said she didn't really know because she was Australian and had never seen it before, either, but eventually we figured out that the train announcements worked their way from the far right to the far left, where they were given a platform number. As each platform was added, people would go bolting for the platform en masse, even though they were continually telling people not to run. ( They also made frequent announcements about thieves and pickpockets working in the area, so to watch your belongings.) Eventually, they announced my train and I bolted off with the rest of the herd.

Train (London Euston Station to Balloch)

The train was a nice, reserved-seat train and there was a space nearby where I could put my big bag and keep an eye on it. This train terminated at Glasgow Central, where I was to transfer to one to Partick, then one to Balloch. I had fifteen minutes to catch the Partick train and I asked where to go – no signs, nothing. A man directed me around 3 or 4 sets of tracks and then down the escalator. At the bottom were some stairs and a ticket office (and more of those gates that you have to put a ticket in). Problem was, I only had the one ticket. Not knowing what to do, with the train due in three minutes, I got in line at the ticket office to ask where I needed to go. The guy directed me down two flights of stairs, where there were two platforms (still no clue which I was to wait on). But a very nice man, who probably overheard my near panic at the ticket desk, said, “Are you going to Partick? It's that platform there – and all the trains go to Partick so it doesn't matter if you take this one or the next”. So why didn't someone tell me that??  There was never a sign or any direction of what do to once I got to Glasgow. This train was more of the metro variety, with frequent stops and people hopping on and sitting wherever. When I got to Partick, woman standing there told me that the Balloch train was the very next one, so I only waited about five minutes (which is why the schedule said I only had five minutes to change).  How did she know I needed to know that?  Did ScotRail call ahead and tell them to be on the lookout for a clueless American?

Lisa and Donna were waiting for me, and we went straight to get something to eat, then they walked me to the B&B, filling me in along the way about the B&B owner, an 82-yr-old character from the highlands named Emma Macdonald. They had checked earlier to see where the B&B was, and got roped into a lengthy conversation, almost not getting away in time to come and get me.  In fact, Lisa and Donna told me that she had urged them to stay to chat instead - I could find my own way to the house!

There is so much to say about Emma that I just can't start here right now – that entry will have to wait for another day.  So - I'm here!  Total travel time from the shuttle bus in Normal to the train station at Balloch:  26 hours.