Tuesday, December 12, 2006

Off to Blighty

At the end of the week County Mouse and I will be headed off to England for the hols, visiting assorted relatives and spending a couple of days in London recreating a Richard Curtis film and dodging drunken office revellers. As a consequence, things may get a little quiet in these parts. I thought in the interim I would offer up a photo essay of our trip preparations.

Weasel is ready to depart...

...as is Country Mouse.

Our bags are packed...

..we are prepared for the airport check-in crowd...

...we will travel with American Airlines...

...into the welcoming arms of my family.

15 comments:

T. Oklahoma Bandwagon said...

I'm seeing this play out ...

Upon completion of said yuletide cheer, etc., you strike up a conversation down on the docks with a group of individuals recently returning from Amsterdam.

One thing leads to another, and they convince you to join them in their journey to American shores.

And you choose only the finest modes of transport.

Eventually, after a two hour layover at JFK, you reach Portland International Jetport where it takes 45 minutes for the ground crew to move your luggage the 45 feet from your recently departed plane to the baggage turnaround.

It's late, but Merry Christmas to All -- the Congress Street Denny's is open.

Wisdom Weasel said...

There seems to be some real resistance at the security gate with bringing smallpox laced blankets as carry-on, however.

Mondale said...

Give my regards to any of the following that you happen across.

Little Chef.

Cramped and smelly tube trains.

The Blair v Brown soap opera.

That first sight of the English countryside as your train pulls away from the suburbs.

Radio 4, anytime you like, without the internet.

Proper footy all over the papers, all the time, every day.

Comedy jetlag.(I recommend a bloody good stroll through London Town with some proper pub grub-sorry CM).

Mild and damp weather conditions.

Oh, yeah, your family, right.

Anonymous said...

Am I corny or is Christmas in London as wonderful as I imagine it to me, very Charles Dickens- like without the bah humbug, of course.

Anonymous said...

Like Autumn in New York or Paris in the spring.

Wisdom Weasel said...

"Am I corny or is Christmas in London as wonderful as I imagine it to me, very Charles Dickens- like without the bah humbug, of course."
Just so: rich people select random orphans to raise while damning the others to a life of crime, all Jewish people are either fences or pickpockets, young women refuse to marry their suitors, penniless French aristocrats roam the streets decrying the revolution, and every third person has rickets.

Less Dickensian, more "A Muppet Christmas Carol" I'm afraid.

Anonymous said...

So there are a lot of talking rats like Rizzo?

Ms.Dee

Wisdom Weasel said...

Absolutely, as shown in the documentary Flushed Away.

Anonymous said...

Now you mention it I was in London on Monday and must confess that the place had a certain victorian atmosphere, in the pre-Bazalgette sense.

Anonymous said...

London at Christmas is as much Christmas Carol as America is Martin Chuzzlewit?

Anonymous said...

I see the sense of humor runs in the family:)

Wisdom Weasel said...

Same Sex Chuzzlewiting is banned in several states.

Margaret Porter said...

Which Curtis film?

During our recent sojourn we felt like extras in a Cold War-era James Bond film. Charles Dickens--I only wish! The mysterious demise of the Russian spy and constant mopping-up of radioactive substances was thoroughly weird. If Blair and Brown were in-country, I never even knew.

Happy travels!

Bill Norris said...

Funny, the Christmas I spent in London, it just felt like a neutron bomb had gone off. The City just emptied and didn't fill up again until after Boxing Day (a holiday we need to add to the American list, btw).

Much more David Markson's Wittgenstein's Mistress than Dickens, albeit the Urban Version.

Jim said...

Safe travels and may you have an enjoyable holiday, Dickens, or no.

It's all in what we make it, eh, and that's a hell of a mouthful coming from this old crotchety Scrooge.

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