While it is totally my own fault for staying up late working on the blog, which, ironically, as you’re reading this, I decided to go in a completely new direction. While I liked the idea of returning to Blogger, I was quickly frustrated with the limitations. So, welcome to Nick’s Next Stop 2.0. See, I am insufferable.
Back to the story…
After staying up until around 3am London time as we headed there, I decided it was time to try to get some sleep, which was easier said that done. While the seats in Premium Economy were comfy, a lot of the perks of the seat are a benefit to those shorter than myself. You can lean back and get your feet up off the ground if you’re average height, but with my long legs and the under seat bag that I have, there was not much comfort to be had. I got out my inflatable travel pillow, turned on the white noise I have become dependent on to sleep, and…sat there in a stupor. It didn’t help that there was a baby not having the time of its limited life for much of the trip. Even with the noise cancelling headphones, I could still hear their screams.
The other issue is that whomever developed the interior of the premium 787-9P decided that with the bigger screens, there also needed to be a remote control that is built into the left side of the seat. Why do you need a remote for something you can reach out to easily? My leg kept touching the touchscreen which kept it on the whole time, and that thing got HOT. I ended up popping it out of its position and just tossing it on the floor.
Needless to say, once we landed at Heathrow, I was pretty exhausted and, in retrospect, completely and utterly dehydrated. I had water with me, but I wasn’t drinking it like I should. Stupid, Nick. Stupid.
We landed and deplaned, and it was all pretty perfunctory. I breezed through customs and made my way out of Terminal 3, but before I did that, I discovered the wonders of the Arrivals Lounge.
While a lot nice than how I am going to describe it, it is like a truck stop, where drivers can take a shower if they want. Most Admiral’s Clubs have shower facilities, but these separate show rooms were probably 3/4 of the space. Being able to shower and change was a lifesaver. I was also able to get some food and multiple cups of coffee into my system — and still not enough water. I was a being of more caffeine than anything else.
I made my way to the Tube, and while the Piccadilly line was closed (no great loss; it’s one of the oldest lines in the London Underground and it shows), I was able to hop on the Elizabeth Line, which is the newest one, to get into London. It took about an hour and a transfer to the Northern Line to get to Euston Station, which is a major hub for the tub. I don’t know if it is because I didn’t have a look of panic or what, but someone actually asked me for directions in the Tube. Now, I do all the research and have a great idea of where I am going, but I am much help beyond that. Hopefully he’s still not wandering around down below.
My hotel was a short walk from Euston, but I was really feeling the exhaustion. Luckily, they were able to get me in a room (it was about 11 AM), and I promptly dropped and slept for about an hour.
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