Flying Out

We hit our first snag passing through security when Sooze dropped a clear plastic bag filled with (deadly) makeup liquids through the rollers on the hand luggage conveyor belt. Heathrow don't stop the trays containing your belt, your laptop and other weapons until they practically fall into the abyss, so there were crowds of people in their stocking feet frantically trying to rescue their hats and other belongings Indiana Jones style. Sooze fell prey to the jaws of the monster and we had to hang around until an enterprising staff member recovered the package.

The flight out with BA was great. A few bottles of the old Profondo Rosso and we were good to go - to sleep. Except for Dale, who was saddled with that one person on every flight who insists on extending their chair back fully as soon as the seatbelt light goes out. He spent the rest of the flight like Luke Skywalker in the garbage chute. Dale and I tried to recreate the closing scene from Say Anything but didn't quite nail the photo. Can't wait to get to Boston and pick up the motor.