The Big Move

Our move from Norwich to Utah went remarkably well. In fact, I think this was one of the smoothest moves that we have done – not necessarily the least stressful, but with the least number of crises.

There were a few scary moments however; the first being that the coach we were taking from Norwich to London Heathrow never came. By this time of the year Norwich is getting pretty dang chilly at 7:30am and there was a North Sea breeze bearing down on us as we stalwartly waited for a bus that was never going to arrive. Around an hour later (and after being given various excuses as to why we were all still waiting in the cold), the bus station people told us that the bus was broke down and that National Express was sending taxis to carry everyone to the airports (lest anyone mistakenly assume that National Express did this out of good-natured customer service it should be noted that they had to be violently persuaded with around 20 angry phone calls). At this point they also told us that we could no longer wait in the bus terminal and had to go stand down on Surrey Street to wait for the mini bus, which failed to arrive anywhere near the promised 'ten minutes' time.

Fortunately, the minibus was significantly faster than the coach so we made it to Heathrow only 20 minutes later than we would have if traveling by bus. Everything else went fairly well... although we got into Chicago with just over an hour to make our connecting flight to Salt Lake (bit of a mad rush there, claiming our bags, customs, queues, security, recheck bags, queues, catching the train to the other terminal, security, have I mentioned queues? Then run to the gate).

When we were going through one of the security checks there was a slight hitch and Heidi about threw down on this thick black woman, but my Jedi powers made a peaceful resolution to an otherwise violent situation.

Security Woman: You have too many bags
M: No we don’t
SW: You’re only allowed two carry-ons
M: (referring to the eight carry-ons that we had) We only have two
SW: (looking at us, then our bags, then at us again) OK

I felt like Obi-Wan Kenobi, ‘You don’t need to see our identification… These aren’t the droids you’re looking for… Move along.’
After that, the rest of the trip was fine. The airline didn’t even lose our bags!
Now we are tired.
Peace.

**Slightly unrelated, but entirely justified, rant**
The airline didn’t lose our bags because we flew with American Airlines. Had we flown Delta (like our family has 3 times in the past year), at least one of our bags would have undoubtedly been lost. So far this year, my family has flown with Delta Airlines 3 different times and every time at least one bag was lost. Those odds aren’t bad if you’re going to Vegas, but flying? My advice is, if you fly, don’t go with Delta. Or, if you decide to go with Delta, pack all of your valuables in your carry-on luggage (Jedi powers might be handy here) and check two empty bags for Delta to lose. That way you can complain later and get your allotted $75 per-day-per-person refund. Just a thought.