Off Again Into The Wild Blue Yonder...

Monday 26th November





I'm awake before the alarm. Got to be said, the tune on Lynn's phone alarm is bloody awful. Looking at the television stand we know we're with Emma and Andy.....the tea making stuff is untouched. I put a brew on and open the curtains. Looking out across the ramp I can see two Virgin Atlantic Boeing 747-400's out on the satellite stands (31 and 33). Two more should be arriving before we leave. Which one would be ours? I can see one of the aircraft is G-VROY which the saddo's out their will know that has just been repainted into the latest colours and is the only one at Gatwick. Our thinking is thus, new paint job, new interior. Has this one been upgraded to the new all leather seated, super service spec that the Heathrows have? It's a lottery.





Check-in opens at 8 and we open our door to the corridor at 08:01 to find Em and Andy standing there looking like they've been there for hours. We sheepishly drag our bags out and off to the lifts. Em timidly crosses the threshold onto the lift and me and Andy start the winding up. She's not pleased. a short walk to the North Terminal and we catch the shuttle to the South Terminal where Virgin operates from. Having been unable to to book in online because of our suspected spy, we expect the queues to be long and are pleasantly surprised to find no-one waiting at the Premium Economy check-in. We present our papers and wait to be dragged away as accomplices of the spy. The check-in agent looked at Andy, his passport (the picture in which makes him look twelve.....), back at him.



"I have to do a security check on you", she says, picking up the phone. After a moment it's answered. "Got a security check for you. Name Andy XXXX, date of birth XXXXXX. Thank you.", and puts the phone down. "Your done", she says.



"That it?"



"Yes"



I assume the check meant putting a tick box on a quota sheet.



We brace ourselves for the queue through security only to find something new and improved (Just think, all this time I've been using old and inferior). There's a new fast track security line and our premium tickets have all the right markings. 2 minutes later we're airside. Top service BAA.



I'm now starving. There's a not bad restaurant airside (Est, Est, Est for those who want to know) which does a great cooked breakfast and overlooks the runway (You can see the way my mind works, can't you?). We dine and decide to fill in our US Customs and Immigration paperwork while we have time. Good job we took a few spares as we ballsed a few up. I love some of the questions on the green form.



"Have you every been convicted of moral turpitude?". What the hell is moral turpitude.



"Have you ever been a member of a terrorist organisation?". Who in their right mind is going to say yes to that one?



South Terminal is rammed solid. Getting anywhere takes forever so we decide to go to the gate. The gate is miles away. At least we'll be one of the first there.



Wrong. there are 200 people ahead of us in the queue when we arrive. Bollocks.



(Quick sidebar. Why is it that airport toilets smell worse than any other toilet on earth? Is it the smell of fear? I've got virtually no sense of smell but my god they're rank)



Our line shuffles towards the gate like a pack of zombies. It'll put us in the mood for Disney I suppose. One of the greatest things about flying Premium is the next bit. 440 people waiting to board but we get boarded first, well after the raspberries of course. It's not G-VROY, we're disappointed. The Premium cabin on this aircraft (Not 'plane'. Planes are things for taking a inch off doors with..) is on the upper deck and has only 38 seats and it's own cabin crew. We take our seats and are served some sparkling wine while the ordinary people board. I like it upstairs.

We take off almost on time and route west, coasting out over Devon and heading out into the North Atlantic. As flights go it was all very smooth. I was somewhat worried. Not about flying, I love flying. There's not much about commercial aviation that worries me. What I was worried about was the fact that I had two bottles of Champagne and a cake on order. Was it on the aircraft? If so when would it be delivered? Angst.

(Sidebar. Why do we always get ignorant bastards sitting in front of us? If they're not putting the bloody seat back or opening and closing the window blinds it's always something. This twat in front of Lynn kept flipping the paper headrest cover back over Lynn's seat back screen. I was going to say something but Lynn wasn't watching it and wasn't bothered. Irritated the fuck out of me though. I kept flicking it back and eventually pulled it off completely. Twat.)

Only watched one film on the way, Transformers. Load of crap. Note to Hollywood, CGI does not a film make...

Still no bottles.

Meals come and go. Still no bottle. I finish my book (Darkly Dreaming Dexter), I'm disappointed. The book, for once, is nowhere near as good as the TV series. Lynn goes to the loo and I quickly make a nonchalant walk to the rear where the galley is to enquire. The cabin attendant is talking to the co-pilot with an air of her wanting him to get in her drawers (eyelash flutter, eyelash flutter). But! there on the shelf, amongst the duty free, are my bottles! Reassured I return to my seat. Finally, with just over an hour to run, the bottles and cake are ceremoniously delivered and I as, however briefly, a hero.

We land at about 15;30 local time with a brief taxi to stand 83. Here's where Premium comes into it's own. We get let off first. At the bottom of the stairs there's a line of cabin staff holding back the masses like the police at a demo. What now happens has more to do with the start of the London Marathon than the orderly disembarking of a commercial jetliner. Everybody knows that it takes a age to be processed by the customs gestapo so you need to be first in line. So everyone starts walking, slyly watching each other, then surreptitiously speed walking, then as near to running as they can get without being obvious. We get there with about 20 people in front from the Mexicana that landed before us. A result really considering the 400 people behind.

Half an hour later we a processed by a stone faced officer. (Are they trained to do that? Smile you miserable bastards, it won't hurt) We pass through customs unmolested and to our next challenge.

We have a lot of luggage and even with our full size car ordered, we're not going to be able to get it all to the hotel. Luckily, Disney World have a nice little service for us to use. Disney's Magical Express takes your baggage from the airport and deliver to your hotel room while you take the bus. So our cunning plan is for Lynn and Em to take the bus while me and Andy get the hire car and meet them there, while not having to carry our own luggage.

It's a strange system at Orlando. Once you claim your luggage, you want the fifty yards through customs and put your cases down a chute where they disappear, only to pop out on another carousel half a mile away in the terminal, and you take the shuttle. We mark our bags with special labels and put them n the chute. Theory is that they are taken by Disney before they reach the terminal. I have visions of them missing one and it going round and round for a while before being stolen and my toothbrush being put on Ebay.

Em and Lynn go for the bus and Andy and Me go for the car. Paperwork is easy and we are sent to the parking garage to collect. We are given a key and a space number where to find the car. It should have been a dock number. Sitting in the space is a road going ocean liner. It's not the newest or cleanest hirecar I've ever had. It's a Mercury Grand Marquis and has a sofa for a seat. I adjust the seat but anyway you do it you still end up driving like a praying mantis. By far the most disconcerting thing about it is the fact it has North Carolina plates. They're going to think I'm a native and I'm going to get pulled up for 'driving while British'.

We set sail for Disney World, while trying out the Tom Tom navigation unit. Never used it in the States before. Got to say it worked flawlessly. I knew the way anyway, but we'd need it to go to Kennedy so it was just a test. 20minutes later we pass under an arch declaring that we had entered the Happiest Place on Earth.

We pull up to the gate at the Saratoga Springs Resort and Spa. The security guard bids us "Welcome Home!" (Something they say at all Disney Vacation Club resorts, as technically we own a 47 year lease on 0.0033% of the resort it is sort of home). He gives us a strange look though. Two men checking in together? You could see the wheels turning.

We park up and I give Andy a tour of the place while we wait for the girls. He's impressed. The girls arrive after about half an hour and we check in. We are given a two bedroom apartment in the Congress Park buildings. It's a lovely set off rooms. We have a king size bed and a whirlpool bath cum swimming pool in our room. Andy and Em have two Queen sizes and a normal bathroom.Between the bedrooms is a huge living room with a full kitchen and breakfast bar. It was like being on the set of Friends.. A large balcony overlooks Circue du Soliel and Downtown Disney. And joy of joys three large TV's and a DVD player!

God I need some sleep but we still have one task to do. Em and Andy have their two week Disney Passes but we need to get our Annual Passports from Downtown Disney. Theory is that if we get Annual Passports now, we can come back next year in October and still use the passes and not pay out again. And you get loads of discounts and stuff so financially it works out well. We pile back into the ocean liner and set out to Downtown with a air of "I know where I'm going". This is the first time staying at Saratoga so after 10 minutes I've taken a wrong turn in the dark and we're lost in Disney World.... Eventually I get us to the Publix supermarket for supplies......BEER!! A brief trip to guest services for passes and a sandwich at the Earl of Sandwiche we return to base. We open the fizz and beer and I carry out my usual Orlando tradition, Seinfeld on the WB at 11 o'clock. It's been on almost everynight when I've been in Orlando. So that's a lot of Seinfeld..