So, we'ver arrived at Heathrow, have gone through Immigration and Security without a hitch and are awaiting our luggage. Dan's comes down the belt. Matt's comes. My doesn't, and doesn't and doesn't. Finally, all the luggage from our flight has come through and mime doesn't. Irritated, yet calm because I know the service lady is going to be polite and lovely about the whole problem, and being in London now, so shall I, I go to fill out a claim form (wondering how I will survive without my clean clothes and makeup, but grateful that England is a first-world country and they most likely have stores) and the lovely British Airways Lost Luggage Lady looks up my luggage number and says "Oh, yours isn't lost, it was pulled out for a random security check and will be arriving tomorrow on another flight." Ah, how lovely. Not. But at least we know where it is. Not here, but on it's way. Not the end of the world, because hey, I actually made it to England, although now I'll now need to do some impromtu shopping for a few items to get me through the next 24 hours (and no, I didn't put a clean set of clothes or make up in my carry-on, because I booked a direct flight thinking "Howw could my luggage NOT make it to England on a DIRECT flight?" Well, now, ...now I know, don't I?) At least I handled it better than the woman next to me who was in tears when the same thing happened to her. But, we had a driver to meet, so we left the airport to meet him.
Brendan was our driver, the father-in-law of the gentleman we rented the flat from. He got us to the flat safe and sound and recommended a grocery store in walking distance of the flat. We liked the flat. It was spacious, fully furnished with two bedrooms, two bathrooms, kitchen, washer and dryer and was only a twenty minute walk to Kensingotn Palace! But filling up the fridge and getting me underwear and makeup was the priority, so stalking the Royals would have to wait.
We ventured out for our first walk in London (Kensington area), and quickly learned how not to get killed by London traffic. You either must follow the traffic signals or just cross when the Brits do. We got a kick out of how the streets are painted with directions on which way to look for oncoming traffic, but let me tell you, these directions help and have saved many a tourist's life, no doubt. We grocery shopped and also walked to the Tube Station and loaded up our Oyster cards, ready to ride the Tube soon!
Some British words we learned today:
Lolli = Popsicle
Nappies = diapers
bits = pulp (the orange juice we bought came "without the bits". Cracked us up!)
fridge-freezer = what we refer to as the entire refrigerator
pop - as in "I'll pop it over to you"
take aways = doggie bags
Please enjoy our pics from Day 2-3!
|Hallway leading to Kitchen|
|Bathroom off back Bedroom|
|Kitchen, of course|
|More of the Master Bedroom|
|Bathroom off Master Bedroom|
|View from Kitchen into Dining Area|
|Dining area looking toward Kitchen|
|Portion of Living Area|
|Matt sitting in Dining Room|
|Hallway to Front Door and Laundry Room|
|Out front and Upstairs|