We got up around 7 am, took showers and loaded up our bags. Then we caught Bus 24 in front of our hotel, and went to Victoria Station. We rode the Gatwick Express back to Gatwick, and it took about 30 minutes.
Then we had to go through customs. After a lot of questioning, I went to the Duty Free Shop, and a salesgirl approached me, and tried to talk me into buying a carton of cigarettes and a bottle of liquor. I didn't feel like being bothered with her, so I said - in my thickest Southern drawl - "Well, I don't drink, and I don't chew, and I don't hang with folks who do." - And she looked at me and said, "Righto," and walked away.
Last week, when we first arrived in England, I forgot to mention that - when we first went through Security, just before we had them X-Ray our bags or whatever - I didn't notice it, but the security sticker for one of my bags fell off. The bag was fuzzy, and the sticker didn't adhere to the fuzz on it or something, and it fell to the floor. Eventually, I looked down and saw the sticker on the floor, but I didn't pick it up.
Suddenly, a security guard came over and asked me if anyone had given me any packages, etc. I told him no, and he looked down at my little fuzzy bag, and asked why there wasn't a sticker on it. I told him I didn't know, that I thought there had been one on it. He started acting really nervous, and his forehead started beading with sweat. He kept asking me if I was certain that no one had given me anything, and whether or not I'd let my bags out of my sight for any amount of time. His questions made me anxious, and I guess I seemed to be acting like I was guilty of something, but the fact of the matter is, I just don't react well to spontaneous situations where my actions are being called into question. Suddenly, it dawned on me: I'd seen my sticker on the floor! I told him so, and we walked over to where it was, and he breathed a sigh of relief. All was right with the world, and I moved on through Security without incident.
Our flight home took about 8 hours, and we arrived in Charlotte at about 2 pm U.S. time, 7 pm U.K. time. We saw Heidi briefly, then we exchanged our currency (English pounds are heavy, and can weigh down your pant's pockets!), and after a few stops, we headed to Alandale. I finished up my Albert Fish book, which I started reading on the flight home, and when I mentioned some of the subject matter to Jeff - who was driving - he looked at me out of the corner of his eye, and asked, "Uh, Bud? Are you planning on becoming a serial killer?" Haha!
I arrived home around 8 pm, and no sooner did I have my bags open and on the bed, then in came Brian, who snatched as many items as I had duplicates of as he could - without even asking - including a sleeping visor and a little travel kit the airline gave me (I had two of each because of the flight there, and the flight back). I handed out the gifts I'd brought everyone, and mom liked the thimbles I got her. When I gave her a carved wooden plate with the London Bridge on it, though, she looked and it and frowned a little, and said, "Couldn't you have gotten me something with a little more color on it?"
Welcome back to America, Bud!
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