More Jet Lag

I am writing this in the hotel room on Tuesday night of my first week back in London for this work cycle. After a week at home (November 22nd to 29th), I boarded a flight from LAX bound for Heathrow late Saturday afternoon, and it was scheduled to arrive the following Sunday about 11:30 AM. The trip was pretty easy, partly because I am getting used to the routine and the actual travel time of 17 hours door to door, but I started the trip with more fatigue than what I had expected.

Having planned for a week at home to enjoy the family and get some home projects done (not to mention a little mountain hiking), I was somewhat disappointed in how I felt physically and emotionally the entire week. Sure, I was a wee bit sick with a sinus infection (so what else is new?), but I never really felt normal from the time I got off the plane in Los Angeles. I expected some jet lag as before, but not for 7 days!

Perhaps, as I later wondered, the dust and latent smoke particles from the recent fires, combined with my usual cat allergies, all combined to worsen my sinus symptoms. That may all be part of the equation, but it's always way too busy during holiday seasons -- too many things to do, people to see, places to go. Hey, that sounds familiar. I wonder who made that up.

So I made it to the airport in Los Angeles with no problem. The usual car service showed up precisely on time at 2:00 PM Saturday and delivered me to the terminal at 3:00 PM. From there, the lines and delays were just beginning.

First, there was the line at checkin. That took about 45 minutes. Then I waited for them to X-ray my checked bag, since if they opened it, I wanted to observe the process. Fortunately, they didn't need to look inside, so my bright neon colored cable ties remained on the bag for the entire trip. These are my "signature" locking indicators -- they won't keep anyone out, but they will tell me if anyone has broken in, and it's easy to identify at baggage claim. So far, I've seen ribbons, bows, bandanas, and yellow duct tape, but I've never seen bright neon cable ties on baggage. Mine are still unique.

When the TSA X-rayed my bag, it seemed to spend about 30 seconds in a giant machine, but when they finished, the bag shot out like a bullet, hitting a barrier at the end. I've never seen luggage move so quickly, and I wondered about any damage that may occur to bags going through that machine. Strange. You know, if they would remove the barrier at the end of the machine, and turn the machine around, it's possible the luggage could be "shot" directly to the airplane with no intermediary handling. Just a thought.

The next stop was for carryon baggage screening. That involved another 30 minute line, where I queued with passengers who had previously been waiting at checkin. People were removing shoes and high heels, but I had worn sneakers and they didn't cause any problems with the magnetic sensors. My carryon baggage went through without a problem, thankfully.

Finally, the wait was over. No immigration control or checkpoints to leave the country.

I spent maybe 2 hours in the holding area waiting for the flight to board. Since I had an assigned aisle seat, I didn't have to worry much about where to put my bags once I boarded. My usual practice is to put my backpack in first in the storage above my seat, followed by a jacket and my flight bag. It all fits nicely and I keep whatever leg room is available in a coach seat. But you must get the bag up there before other passengers take the space. Later, once all the bags are situated (and usually after the flight has reached cruising altitude), it's safe to remove the bag for long periods without losing the "shared overhead space".

During the flight, I picked up a restaurant tip from a seat mate -- Carlucci's on Upper Street on the right hand side. Said to have good pasta, but I will have to find this one. I didn't see it tonight in my ramble down in that area.

On the flight I was looking forward to watching one or two movies. Well, I had no problem watching them, but my headphones wouldn't plug into the seat jack since someone had broken off their headphone plug in the jack. The airline's solution was a splitter device so I could listen to the movie on my seat mate's audio system, but that assumed I would impose on her for the right movie and adjust the volume accordingly. Not. I opted to watch movies with no sound and just tried to sleep.

That would have worked out pretty well except for the talkative toddler three rows in front of me. Normally, my earplugs block out all the necessary noise, but this time, the toddler's vocal pitch tended to penetrate my ear plugs. Everyone around me was irritated. This kid talked -- loudly -- all through the night. And her mother didn't seem to think this was unusual. Here was a 2-year-old spending the night awake when the rest of us were trying to sleep. Odd.

As a result, I got minimal sleep, in spite of the ear plugs and sedatives from the doctor. At least we got to Heathrow on time. And waited at the gate for 30 minutes because the police authorities needed to board the plane and detain several passengers. We waited and waited ("please remain seated"), and finally, the police (with guns, which is unusual in England) boarded the plane and talked to two passengers within a few rows of my seat. Everyone was curious, and the passengers didn't seem to understand what was going on or expect this special treatment.

We left the plane while the police kept the suspects in their seats. I'm sure they were terrified. But the police here are exceedingly polite, so at least the passengers/suspects weren't thrown to the floor or treated brutally. We never did figure out what was going on, but we were glad to be out of there and on our way through the arrival process.

More lines

The first queue involves immigration. At this point, I only had my carryon bags, but had completed a brief entry permit that the immigration officer reviewed with my passport. After a few questions about the purpose and length of my visit, I am through there and on the way to baggage claim. And that took about an hour. Many, many bags trundled past on the conveyor belt, but none of them bore the signature neon colored cable ties, and I knew it would be a long wait. I spoke with one of the Virgin agents, and she said there was a problem with the transfer equipment. After an hour, I got my bag and headed toward customs. There are two doors: "Nothing to Declare" and the other one. I selected "Nothing to Declare" and noticed that each table in the room was occupied with an unpacked suitcase, a customs agent, and an unhappy traveler. Since all the tables were full, I didn't get selected for inspection, but I'm sure someday my number will come up.

From there it was a long walk to the Heathrow Express, maybe 1/4 mile from customs, but I arrived quickly, just to find that the train had left and I had a 20 minute wait for the next one. Still in a sleep-deprived trance, I paid for my ticket at the machine nearby and waited with everyone else.

The Express arrived, and we left for Paddington Station. This took only 15 minutes, and I enjoyed the bumpy but scenic ride through the London suburbs. Before I was ready, we arrived and was off to find the tube station in the terminal and make two connections for Angel Station, the closest underground to my hotel. That took about half an hour.

Finally, after hours of standing in lines and waiting at the airport and train station, and several brief periods of walking and waiting at underground stations, I was on the street and walking toward the hotel.

But the room wasn't ready. Another wait. I wanted a specific room, 231, which had a decent size and a good view of the street so I could check the weather each morning. I've also had most things repaired there during previous stays, a big reason I request the same room each time. After 30 minutes, the room became available and I moved in.

By now it was about 2:00 PM, over 2 hours after landing at Heathrow. I was still a walking zombie, having missed a good night's sleep.

The first order of business was to unpack the necessary items, but more important, I needed to find lunch. The breakfast we were served on the plane was kind of meager and I was already hungry again. Hoping that I could catch a Cumberland Sausage at the street market two blocks away, I walked over drooling and eager, but the sausage vendor wasn't there. I panicked briefly but ended up at a decent restaurant nearby where I ordered chicken pasta and a bowl of potato leak soup. That was better.

I'm not sure what I did the rest of the afternoon. It was kind of a blur. I was tired, but didn't want to take a nap in the event that curtailed my going to sleep time in the evening. I managed to iron some clothing, unpack my suitcases, and walk around some more. But the time passed without much to remember. Eventually, it was late at night and I fell asleep quickly.

The first night back I sleep well, since I missed a full and deep night of sleep on the trip over. The second, third, and further nights are a different matter. It's those that make it difficult to sleep at a normal hour of 10:00 or 11:00 PM. For example, I'm up now at 1:15 AM and hoping for sleep quickly. Eventually.

It's no problem getting up in the morning and feeling productive all day. It's just a problem falling asleep the first few days after I arrive, not counting the arrival evening, when I am totally exhausted.

This is not what I expected, and I'm not sure if it's normal and will be ongoing for each return trip. But it's sure annoying and compromises my effectiveness at the office, to be sure. And that's the state of affairs here in London Wednesday morning at 1:15 AM.
- posted by Tom Perkins @ 12/03/2003 01:15:00 AM