2nd October 2024 (continued)
I like Boston Airport.
There - I said it.
This has to be the most stress-free international departure I have ever made. Great bag-check; really great TSA check; Gate just the other side of TSA with loads of comfortable seating, even for a fully loaded Fatbus - it's all great. Even boarding is done touchlessly. You walk forward to the machine, put your feet on the footmarks and look directly into the camera - green light, and you're through. Downstairs for lower deck, straight ahead for Upper.
I’m on the upper deck towards the back. Business and economy plus were completely full. As promised, though, the seat next to me is free. There’s plenty of room in my overhead locker. I put my shopping bag under the seat in front, put my noise-cancelling headphones on and plug into the entertainment system.
Pretty sure I left my coffee mug in the bloody car...
I have more at home...
We push back and taxi on time and are airborne at 19:25 on the dot...
The seat is surprisingly comfortable. We get airborne on time and I watch Mr Bates vs the Post Office, a four-part miniseries cataloguing the biggest miscarriage of justice in British legal history. The Post Office, refusing to accept that the billion-pound computer system they had installed in sub post offices could be in any way compromised, prosecuted thousands of sub postmasters, ruining their lives, jailing them, bankrupting them and driving some to suicide. It is a tale of a determined ‘little’ man (Alan Bates, played superbly by Toby Jones)...
...taking on the State and eventually (more than 20 years later) succeeding. The story of how the post office used taxpayer resources to deliberately target people who were making waves is breathtaking.
It’s a hard watch, even though it ends in victory. The story has moved on, with a full public enquiry eventually starting to hold those responsible to account. Alan Bates got a knighthood. My mother was a sub-postmaster before she retired - I'm left to ponder how she would have reacted to this happening to her...
I started watching True Detective Series Four, but can’t really get into it. The plot is intriguing, but there isn't a single sympathetic character to identify with...
The film selection is pretty poor - having travelled a fortnight ago, and also in the summer, I've already watched anything of interest...
It's only a six-hour flight, and pretty soon we are landing at a cool (11°C) and sunny Heathrow. I make my way through the fully automated passport control, retrieve my hold bag, then wheel my (free) trolley to the car park, where, at level four, I am greeted by the Maple Parking chap who hands me my keys. I load everything into the Škoda and make my way onto the chaos that is the M25 London orbital motorway.
Although I'm feeling a little weary, the bright sunshine perks me up, and the fact that I'm driving from the right, on the left side of the road, in a manual transmission car doesn't jar at all...
I'm feeling a bit dehydrated, so stop at the MacDonald's drive-through at Mildenhall and order a strawberry shake - that should top my blood sugar up too. They ask me to pull into the first 'waiting' slot
I sit and wait. Three cars pull up and are served - I ask each of the (different) MacD people to chase up what's happened to my milkshake. Nobody comes out. After 10 minutes, I go in and ask to speak to the supervisor - I ask him what's happened. "We're cleaning the machine - won't be long now"
I tell him it's already been 10 minutes and to just refund me. In the time it takes him to do this, my milkshake appears. I take the drink, the refund and an apology.
I don't deal with this sort of thing well when dehydrated - indeed, one of the symptoms of my being dehydrated is my becoming ratty at drivers who are driving HUA*, rather than just ignoring it.
I keep heading home, with (free!) strawberry coolness making me feel better by the mile...
I get home arouund 11:00 - the lawn and house look brilliant - Vikki is a treasure...
I text her, and we agree that I can pick up Harry between 14:30 and 15:00...
I soon undo much of Vikki's hard work by bringing my bags in and unloading them all over the floor...
I'm relieved to see my fragile items have survived the journey intact - including my new shiny Mac mini and its plinth. I order a 2Tb SSD hard drive to fit the plinth - Amazon will deliver it tomorrow...
I then address the few items of snail-mail waiting for me, and get an unpleasant surprise...
A £90 penalty notice for failing to pay the ULEZ charge for my car on the day I flew out.
I wasn't driving at the time, as this happened when Maple Parking drove my car from Heathrow to their compound. Since they hadn't mentioned it when I left the car with them, I'd assumed(!) that their compound was outside the ULEZ area (as is the M25 and Heathrow). I go on to their website and - sure enough - it's mentioned in a light green coloured banner at the top of each page. I would expect the ticket with the barcode I was given at time of handover to say - in bold letters - your car will be subject to a ULEZ charge. Or for the chap to mention it.
For now, there's nothing to be done. I pay the £90 to avoid it escalating to £270(!). I also pay the £12.50 charge for today, as they will have driven the reciprocal journey, then pen an appeal, explaining the situation, and asking for the penalty to be reduced to the £12.50 charge, which I would have paid, had I been aware. I doubt it'll cut any ice, but it has to be worth a try…
I turn the heating and hot water on, to get the distinctly chilly house warmed up, then sort out my clothes and put them in the respective drawers. Some of my souvenir purchases go through the dishwasher - and the others into the fridge.
I have nothing but Coke Zero in the fridge, but Tesco are delivering at 17:00, so that'll change soon...
I feel pretty tired, but I am determined to push through to at least 21:00 to make sure of a good start getting over the five hours jet-lag...
I pick Harry up at 14:45, and he is manic - literally spinning around before coming back to greet me again
He doesn't have a tail - but it would be wagging like mad if he did. I thank Vikki, then install Harry in the car and drive home. He races around the house and garden, ensuring all is well in his realm, then returns to where I'm sat in the kitchen and jumps on my lap. I get up and go to sit on the couch, and he's immediately snuggling up against me and is asleep in no time. I imagine peace and quiet were in short supply at Vikki's, with four boys under 12 years old, a dog and a cat...
I get my Tesco delivery, feed Harry far too many treats (which - oddly - he's fine with) and eventually turn in at 22:00, sleeping like God during the Holocaust and waking at 09:00 the next day.
Harry is starving (as ever), so I feed and water him and start doing some general post-holiday chores.
It was a great trip, but it's good to be home...
* Head Up Arse
I like Boston Airport.
There - I said it.
This has to be the most stress-free international departure I have ever made. Great bag-check; really great TSA check; Gate just the other side of TSA with loads of comfortable seating, even for a fully loaded Fatbus - it's all great. Even boarding is done touchlessly. You walk forward to the machine, put your feet on the footmarks and look directly into the camera - green light, and you're through. Downstairs for lower deck, straight ahead for Upper.
I’m on the upper deck towards the back. Business and economy plus were completely full. As promised, though, the seat next to me is free. There’s plenty of room in my overhead locker. I put my shopping bag under the seat in front, put my noise-cancelling headphones on and plug into the entertainment system.
Pretty sure I left my coffee mug in the bloody car...
I have more at home...
We push back and taxi on time and are airborne at 19:25 on the dot...
The seat is surprisingly comfortable. We get airborne on time and I watch Mr Bates vs the Post Office, a four-part miniseries cataloguing the biggest miscarriage of justice in British legal history. The Post Office, refusing to accept that the billion-pound computer system they had installed in sub post offices could be in any way compromised, prosecuted thousands of sub postmasters, ruining their lives, jailing them, bankrupting them and driving some to suicide. It is a tale of a determined ‘little’ man (Alan Bates, played superbly by Toby Jones)...
...taking on the State and eventually (more than 20 years later) succeeding. The story of how the post office used taxpayer resources to deliberately target people who were making waves is breathtaking.
It’s a hard watch, even though it ends in victory. The story has moved on, with a full public enquiry eventually starting to hold those responsible to account. Alan Bates got a knighthood. My mother was a sub-postmaster before she retired - I'm left to ponder how she would have reacted to this happening to her...
I started watching True Detective Series Four, but can’t really get into it. The plot is intriguing, but there isn't a single sympathetic character to identify with...
The film selection is pretty poor - having travelled a fortnight ago, and also in the summer, I've already watched anything of interest...
It's only a six-hour flight, and pretty soon we are landing at a cool (11°C) and sunny Heathrow. I make my way through the fully automated passport control, retrieve my hold bag, then wheel my (free) trolley to the car park, where, at level four, I am greeted by the Maple Parking chap who hands me my keys. I load everything into the Škoda and make my way onto the chaos that is the M25 London orbital motorway.
Although I'm feeling a little weary, the bright sunshine perks me up, and the fact that I'm driving from the right, on the left side of the road, in a manual transmission car doesn't jar at all...
I'm feeling a bit dehydrated, so stop at the MacDonald's drive-through at Mildenhall and order a strawberry shake - that should top my blood sugar up too. They ask me to pull into the first 'waiting' slot
I sit and wait. Three cars pull up and are served - I ask each of the (different) MacD people to chase up what's happened to my milkshake. Nobody comes out. After 10 minutes, I go in and ask to speak to the supervisor - I ask him what's happened. "We're cleaning the machine - won't be long now"
I don't deal with this sort of thing well when dehydrated - indeed, one of the symptoms of my being dehydrated is my becoming ratty at drivers who are driving HUA*, rather than just ignoring it.
I keep heading home, with (free!) strawberry coolness making me feel better by the mile...
I get home arouund 11:00 - the lawn and house look brilliant - Vikki is a treasure...
I soon undo much of Vikki's hard work by bringing my bags in and unloading them all over the floor...
I'm relieved to see my fragile items have survived the journey intact - including my new shiny Mac mini and its plinth. I order a 2Tb SSD hard drive to fit the plinth - Amazon will deliver it tomorrow...
I then address the few items of snail-mail waiting for me, and get an unpleasant surprise...
A £90 penalty notice for failing to pay the ULEZ charge for my car on the day I flew out.
I wasn't driving at the time, as this happened when Maple Parking drove my car from Heathrow to their compound. Since they hadn't mentioned it when I left the car with them, I'd assumed(!) that their compound was outside the ULEZ area (as is the M25 and Heathrow). I go on to their website and - sure enough - it's mentioned in a light green coloured banner at the top of each page. I would expect the ticket with the barcode I was given at time of handover to say - in bold letters - your car will be subject to a ULEZ charge. Or for the chap to mention it.
For now, there's nothing to be done. I pay the £90 to avoid it escalating to £270(!). I also pay the £12.50 charge for today, as they will have driven the reciprocal journey, then pen an appeal, explaining the situation, and asking for the penalty to be reduced to the £12.50 charge, which I would have paid, had I been aware. I doubt it'll cut any ice, but it has to be worth a try…
I turn the heating and hot water on, to get the distinctly chilly house warmed up, then sort out my clothes and put them in the respective drawers. Some of my souvenir purchases go through the dishwasher - and the others into the fridge.
I have nothing but Coke Zero in the fridge, but Tesco are delivering at 17:00, so that'll change soon...
I feel pretty tired, but I am determined to push through to at least 21:00 to make sure of a good start getting over the five hours jet-lag...
I pick Harry up at 14:45, and he is manic - literally spinning around before coming back to greet me again
I get my Tesco delivery, feed Harry far too many treats (which - oddly - he's fine with) and eventually turn in at 22:00, sleeping like God during the Holocaust and waking at 09:00 the next day.
Harry is starving (as ever), so I feed and water him and start doing some general post-holiday chores.
It was a great trip, but it's good to be home...
* Head Up Arse
