Food and drink offerings looked good, though rather worryingly the JD bottle was empty at first. I’d resolved to limit myself to snacks in anticipation of being fed on the flight, so didn’t sample the rather fine smelling 3 been chilli that was one of the available items.
Given that the terminal shopping experience had looked less appealing than a trip round an IKEA Marketplace, we settled into reading and trying (and failing) to be witty on social media. This, and a couple of JD and Diet Cokes passed the time pleasantly enough until the time that the flight status switched to “Boarding” on to Departure screen, which again was slightly ahead of the time that was printed on the boarding flimsy.
This evening’s carriage was an A330 with the standard Delta One offering. We’d opted for a pair of seats in the centre toward the rear of the forward cabin. They seemed to be in good condition, and felt a bit more spacious than they were for our NYC trip last year, but that’s probably just my mind playing tricks. The couple behind us were English, returning home and had been seated in front of use on the leg from MSY. I did wonder whether they’d taken up the same fare offer as we had, but never found the right opening to ask. Though alcohol does dampen my inhibitions a little, the thought of them recoiling in horror when engaged in conversation by this strange scruffy person who’d spent more time choosing from the drinks menu than choosing from the food menu holds me back.
The IFE was of good quality and a decent set of offerings. This time I settled in for the documentary “Three Identical Strangers”, which I believe was available on All4 recently. A quite astonishing story about triplets adopted by different families, who were actually part of an experiment.
Food was fine and plentiful. I can report that the Delta beef offering was not superior or inferior to the VS offering, and I wish there’d been a vegetarian option that I’d had appealed. Delta are, however, feeders so I didn’t go hungry between the multi part starters and desserts. I opted not to have breakfast, so can’t report on that.
What made the flight was the crew. The Purser, who sounded like she had Welsh heritage, endeared herself when first making her introductions by saying “I must apologise for this dreadful music…I can’t think who chooses it” and then recommending “Bohemian Rhapsody”. She also endeared herself to me by keeping me supplied, unbidden, with JD Single Barrel, some of which came home with me. The rest of the cabin crew were on form too, and once boarding was almost complete the Captain walked through the Delta One cabin saying “Good evening” to everyone and chatting to those who wanted a few words; I overhead discussion of aircraft types he was qualified to fly and how often he’d seen the Northern Lights. We were away on time, advised of a short flight time and the likelihood of being put into a holding pattern over London as to wait for Heathrow to come to life. (I sent a message to DL asking them to thank the crew of both our flights on this return trip).
Though I still find it difficult to get a restful sleep even in a flat bed, I dozed (tiredness, you know) during the flight and didn’t get hit once by MrsPJH, so mustn’t have been snoring. I woke about an hour out somewhere over Ireland. As predicted by the flight crew we did a few holding circuits and then took the route that brings you in from the east over north London, turn over Canary Wharf and then west over south London. I think it must have been one of the passenger’s first time into London, as the Purser spent some time pointing out the landmarks before taking her seat for landing.
It was another very, very smooth landing. On the taxi to the stand I get a slightly melancholic feeling when passing the various airline’s aircraft, remembering trips gone by and wondering when, and where to, the next time would be.
We must have been one of the first international flights in as when we arrived at passport control each of the e-Gates had a queue of only a couple of people. This didn’t speed up the process of getting bags, but you can’t have everything.
Though we’d taken public transport down to LHR I didn’t fancy the reverse journey after a night flight, so had arranged a car and we headed off to Arrivals to have a properly hot cup of tea and some breakfast. For some reason both MrsPJH and I opted to have showers, which turned out to be a sound decision.
Our car was a little late, but no matter as the trip back was untroubled by delays and quite swift. Arriving home is always a slightly tense moment, as it has sometimes involved finding defrosted freezers or internal water features that were not present when we left. This time it was being greeted by the builders telling us that we wouldn’t have hot water for another five days and the back part of the house being held up by acrow props (expected, but still eversoslightly disturbing).
As promised:
Lowlights:
Accommodation: two nights in a dimly lit house in Natchez. A night in a hotel featured in Gordon Ramsey’s “Hotel Hell” series; if that was post improvement. I hate to think what it was like before.
Seeing the empty properties and generally dilapidated state of many of the towns on the Mississippi that had clearly once been thriving commercial centres. They are trying to pull themselves up, but they have a job on their hands.
Highlights:
New Orleans: though Mardi Gras night was a bit too much for us, it’s a fascinating city and would love to return. Many of the city’s attractions close down for Mardi Gras, and I’d like to try Bourbon Street of an evening when it’s not quite so mad. Our storm lashed bayou tour was quite something too.
Memphis: Civil Rights Museum, Stax, Sun and Graceland. What’s not to like, though Beale Street itself was a one night only attraction
Vicksburg: Site of a crucial Civil War siege, much of the battlefield is now preserved as a National Park. You get a real sense of the topography of the battle, and the blood spilled for small amounts of territory.
Nashville: Visiting the Ryman Auditorium. Almost buying a Stetson. One of the nights on Broadway, hopping in and out of the bars to hear various bands. Will be quite happy if I don’t hear “Folsom Prison Blues” for a while though.
Accommodation: one night in a wonderful antebellum house in Vicksburg, and a night in a shack in Clarksdale, with guitars available...
Last edited by pjh on 21 Mar 2019, 22:04, edited 1 time in total.
We can get better, because we're not dead yet