Back in Belfast.
But we couldn't stay in our usual hotel because it's completely booked due to a Mr., ah, what's the name, I have it right here, yes a Mr. "Tom Jones" performing some sort of musical even tonight. The city is PACKED.
Okay fine, I can wait one more day to get back to the hotel I can't actually say I like but it's become the devil I know. My other bags are there waiting for me. But I had the perfect plan worked out to do laundry tomorrow as I need to wash clothes and B A D L Y. I have plenty of underwear, that's not a problem. But my two pairs of jeans are either extremely past their wash date and/or splattered with mud. This is one of the many joys of living in a hotel -- you squeeze your laundry out as long as you can and I'm past due. Oh, and it's not cheap. We have a special low deal with the hotel: only £9.95 per laundry bag. That's about $17 to you and me.
Wait, it gets so much better.
The flight from Edinburgh (which I've done 2 times now) is literally 30 minutes in the air. It was a little bit bumpy at first (very rainy today) but not bad. I read and looked at the green and very wet country beneath me when I could see to the ground. As we arrived into Belfast City Airport it got REALLY bumpy. Okay fine, not much to worry about. And then the sweet little boy in front of us hurls. Vomits. Upchucks. Performs a technicolor yawn. Uh boy. But, the thinnest of silver lining was that I scurried to find an additional vomit bag for the poor mom to give to him and that distracted me from the turbulance. Then I found a fresh pack of tissue in my purse and kept handing her a clean when she'd used each one up. She must have told me four or five times "Thanks! You're a star!" Her kind thanks was distracting me from the smell.
Land we did and I got out of sick-smelling tube (seen here).
The transpo guy packed all the luggage into the car, telling us how awful traffic is in Belfast. I almost laughed, thinking how small it is compared to LA (sorry Belfast) and thought, at least I don't have to be on the 405 for the next hour. The trip from the airport to the (new) hotel was about 8 minutes.
Checked into the hotel, a straight up Business type hotel along the lines of a Holiday Inn Express or Courtyard by Mariott. It's busy in here, families and business people are all in the small lobby bar/restaurant. Dragged all the luggage to the room to find it is a fully accessible room for someone in a wheelchair. Which means, no tub or shower stall of any kind -- the whole bathroom is a shower stall with handles everywhere. Rock on for those that need it, seriously. For me, I could only laugh after this wacky afternoon as I reached down to the wheelchair height sink to have a glass of water, while I read the sign on the giant sliding door that said "Make sure this door is fully closed when showering so that the steam doesn't set off the sensitive fire alarm." Great. I can just see it/hear it now tomorrow at 6am.
Oh but now. Now I have a pint of cold, crisp, refreshing beer in front of me and I'm relaxed and telling you all about it. And I'm laughing. Sort of.
This is my glamorous Hollywood lifestyle!
Nini - just think how much Jen (or I for that matter) would have hated that flight. Reading that made me think of her and how brave she always thought you were.
Posted by: Betsy | October 27, 2009 at 05:05 PM