39. Going Home

 

I checked back into the airline charter office on the appointed day and found out I was scheduled to leave on a flight the next day.  The attendant was very nice and told me I could catch the bus in front of her office the next morning and it would take me out to Heathrow Airport to catch my flight.

I managed to arrive for my flight with a little pocket change.  Enough to buy a piece of fruit.  Then I sold two poems that I had written.  I sold them for a sandwich, two pieces of fruit and a bottle of pop.  I started my trip with $100.  $50.00 of that I sent to my friends in Turkey.  I sold some of my blood in Greece for about $15.00.  Carl Erik Rosen gave me $20.00 in Austria.  My father sent me $20.00 to Amsterdam to catch the ferry to England.  Total$155.00.  I left the states the beginning of June and returned the end of August, about 90 days which averaged out to about $1.75 a day, Europe for three months on less than $2.00 a day.

I checked in for my flight back to the states and found out that there was a three hour wait until boarding time.  Up to that point the day had gone well .  It slowly went downhill from there.  About one hour before boarding time we were told there would be a two hour delay.  A couple hours later we were notified of another two hour delay.  So far there was four hours of delay.  After another 3 hour delay we were told we would be loading shortly but we noticed there was no plane at our assigned gate!  After further questioning,  the Airline Representative told us that our plane did not land at the right airport.  It landed at Gatwick instead of Heathrow and would be a couple more hours until the plane was refueled and flown to Heathrow.   During the next hour we were told that our pilots had exceeded their flight hours and needed eight hours of off time before they could fly the plane from Gatwick to our gate at Heathrow.  Those that had the money could upgrade to a regular flight if they didn't want to wait and there was an opening on another flight.  The rest of us would have to wait for our scheduled flight that was now scheduled for tomorrow, about twelve hours away.

Cleaning Lady

 There was no such thing as customers' rights in 1970 so we all settled into an upstairs lounge away from the noise and bustle of the terminal.  We sort of took it over and no one bothered us.  We slept on the floor and made what children there was, comfortable in some overstuffed lounge chairs.  About 3:00 am, a cleaning lady came into the lounge to spruce thinks up.  She actually picked up all the trash and cleaned out the ashtrays.  Her only problem was trying to vacuum the carpeted floor that we were all sleeping on.  Our saving grace was the little old lady that was sleeping by the electrical outlet.  The cleaning lady plugged the vacuum in and started it up.  The little lady rolled over, sat up and yanked the plug out of the outlet.  She was greeted by clapping and a few quiet cheers.  The cleaning lady moved on.


The next day, we got on our flight at the scheduled time plus 24 hours for our flight back to the States.  Only one minor drawback to the whole flight.  No alcoholic beverages on board.  Just juice, soda pop and water.  Apparently, we were considered an unruly bunch for our actions of taking over the one lounge in which we slept thus they were ordered not to supply the plane with the little bottles of liquor, wine or beer.  That was our laugh for the day.  Most of us could not afford to buy them anyway.

This was my summer of 1970, posts from number one through this post number thirty nine, a trip from home to England, hitchhiking to Turkey and then back to England.  It was a fantastic time; I learned a lot about people and myself.  My wife wanted me to write this blog so my grandchildren would be able to "read" of my past.  I leave it for them and others to judge and I also leave two quotes for your consideration.

We shall not cease from exploration
And the end of all our exploring
Will be to arrive where we started
and know the place for the first time.

                 Little Gidding V,
                 Four Quartets.
                 --  T. S. Eliot  (1943)

"All stories are true," Skatpi said.  "But this one really happened, if that's what you mean."  He took another slow drink, then smiled again, his bright eyes dancing.  "More or less.  You have to be a bit of liar to tell a story the right way.  Too much truth confuses the facts.  Too much honesty makes you sound insincere."

The Name of the Wind
-- Patrick Rothfuss  (2007)