mytbc

Springtime in Georgia: Part Two, Getting Started

A trip report documenting my March 2010 visit to Katie.

1. Purpose and Planning
2. Getting Started
3. To London, Sir
4. Back in the US Airways
5. Terminal A-West, Philadelphia Born and Raised

Normally when it comes to packing, I am very much a last minute kind of guy. My first US bound trip had a departure time of 5:55 A.M., and I was still packing at 1.30. Unfortunately, I couldn’t do that this time. My flight would be taking off from Glasgow Airport at about nine in the morning on the Monday, but I don’t live in Glasgow any more. To get there for that time required staying overnight in Glasgow on the Sunday night, but I was working all day on the Sunday, so had to do my packing on the Saturday. I was disgusted with myself. Disgusted.

Just to make myself feel better, I only packed my checked case on the Saturday, leaving my carry on bag for the hour or so I’d have between getting home from work and heading out to the train station. Got to stick it to the man somehow, even if the man happens to be future me.

About the only part of packing I enjoy is the thinking about what book I’m going to pack for my flights. This is why about a week before I was due to go, I found myself in the local Waterstone’s browsing the pitifully small Sci-Fi/Fantasy section. Yes, I could have gone on-line, found something much cheaper, had it delivered and all that, but there’s just something about the simple pleasure of going into a book shop, choosing something almost at random and taking it home. This time I chose American Gods by Neil Gaiman, since the title seemed appropriate, and I really rather enjoyed the movie and book of Stardust.

So, it’s Sunday morning. 24 hours until my first flight takes off. Normally, this is when on-line check-in opens, so I head over to the US Airways website to have a look. Ah, of course, my first segment is with BMI, so I need to check in with them. So I head over to BMI’s stellar website to see if I can manage that. Their website did not recognise my PNR, but would accept an e-ticket number. Back, then, to US Airways, into Manage Reservations, find the e-ticket number, back to BMI, only to get an error.

BMI are what we in the industry know as “special”. Their IT set-up in particular causes great joy among their frequent flyers. What is very cool about them is their on-line check-in procedure. See, I was checking in for flight BD003, which takes off at 0910 on a Monday. But on a Sunday it doesn’t take off until, say, 1030. Using BMI logic, the 24 hours before 0910 on a Monday doesn’t start until after BD003 has taken off on the Sunday. As I started work at 1000, I couldn’t actually check in until I’d finished work. Sweet. Gotta love BMI.

So, anyway, I go to work, stay there for 9 hours and come home. I finally get to check in. I add my BMI Diamond Club number to my reservation, select a window seat for my BMI flight and fill in required APIS information. With that done and dusted, I pulled out the backpack I’d be using for my carry on and emptied it onto my bed. I was slightly confused because the only thing that was in it was a brand new copy of American Gods, yet I had a brand new copy of it sitting in a Waterstone’s bag waiting to be packed into it. Apparently without knowing it, I’d bought a book I’d already owned and never read. Sometimes I can be as “special” as BMI.

I left the house about half eight to catch the last train of the evening through to Glasgow, the 2105 to Glasgow Queen Street, stopping every six hundred yards to serve every settlement of more than six people, just in case any of them decided they wanted to travel to Glasgow that evening (hint: they didn’t). Such is the problem with the last train, it’s the slow train. I mean, that’s a whole 15 extra minutes of my life wasted!

So, anyway, I was at the train station about 30 minutes before my train. By this time the ticket office was closed, so I used the self service machine, got my ticket and went straight to the platform. Thankfully they had not locked the waiting shelter yet, for it was a March night in Scotland, i.e. freezing.

The train turned up, on time even. One of the advantages of the last train at night is the number of empty seats. Not only do very few people want to arrive in Glasgow at 2230 on a Sunday night, but First Scotrail will often put two trains together for the last few journeys, to position them for the next day’s services. Such was the case this night. The front train was a three car Class 170, as pictured above, while the rear train was a two car Class 158. Inside, there’s little difference between the two. The 170 has a nicer disabled toilet, and space for four bicycles instead of just two. See the kind of quality information I’m able to provide? Anyway, I got on the front train as it meant less walking when I got to Queen Street, a terminus type station.

I managed to find space on a luggage rack for my checked bag, remembering well the time I got shouted at by the conductor for blocking one of the vestibules (or “the bits near the doors” in normal talk). Then I managed to get myself a seat at one of the tables, pulled out my laptop and launched myself into a game of Railroad Tycoon 3. Yo Dawg, I hear you like trains indeed.

Thanks to the business of trying to create a successful Mexican rail-road, the train journey was over really rather quickly, and I was back in Glasgow. Thankfully I had arranged to stay at my brother’s university accommodation, which is only around ten minutes from the station. Thankfully, because it was still Baltic outside. After a very cold ten minute walk, I lugged my surprisingly heavy case up the two flights of stairs to his flat, and suddenly appreciated just how warm it could be.

My suggestions of going out and doing something were met with cries of “But I have to stuuuudy. I have a test tomorrow. I don’t understand IEEE 754. I need to study”. That was fair enough, as I was a graduate of his course, and I still don’t understand IEEE 754. It’s crazy, that’s what it is. Still, somehow despite his need to study, we sat around in his living room until around 1am chatting, after which I was handed a sleeping bag, and shown the far, far too short for sleeping sofa.

All too shortly my phone alarm started blaring. What kind of sick, sick man sets an alarm for 5am when he only went to bed at 1? Oh, right. Once again past me had stuck it to present me. He’s a dick. Still, I was awake now, so I got up. I’m a firm believer, when travelling, of dressing to suit the destination. It gets you fired up, ready to be there. So that’s why at 5.30am, on a Scottish wintery morning in Glasgow you could find me walking down the street in Shorts, T-shirt, Sandals and pulling a large suitcase. To say I was cold would be an understatement.

First stop was McDonald’s, the only place I know to get a bacon roll before 6am in the centre of Glasgow. Bacon roll, hash brown and orange juice consumed, and life considerably shortened, I headed for the bus station for the Glasgow Flyer bus service to Glasgow Airport

Related posts:

1. Springtime in Georgia: Part One, Purpose and Planning.
2. Springtime in Georgia: Part Three, To London, Sir
3. Springtime in Georgia: Part Four, Back in the US Airways
4. Springtime in Georgia: Part Five, Terminal A-West, Philadelphia Born and Raised

A trip report documenting my March 2010 visit to Katie. Purpose and Planning Getting Started To London, Sir Back in the US Airways Terminal A-West, Philadelphia Born and Raised Normally when it comes to packing, I am very much a last minute kind of guy. My first US bound trip had a departure time of 5:55 A.M., and I was still packing at 1.30. Unfortunately, I couldn't do that this time. My flight would be taking off from Glasgow Airport at about nine in the morning on the Monday, but I don't live in Glasgow any more. To get there for that time required staying overnight in Glasgow on the Sunday night, but I was working all day on the Sunday, so had to do my packing on the Saturday. I was disgusted with myself. Disgusted. Just to make myself feel better, I only packed my checked case on the Saturday, leaving my carry on bag for the hour or so I'd have between getting home from work and heading out to the train station. Got to stick it to the man somehow, even if the man happens to be future me. About the only part of packing I enjoy is the thinking about what book I'm going to pack for my flights. This is why about a week before I was due to go, I found myself in the local Waterstone's browsing the pitifully small Sci-Fi/Fantasy section. Yes, I could have gone on-line, found something much cheaper, had it delivered and all that, but there's just something about the simple pleasure of going into a book shop, choosing something almost at random and taking it home. This time I chose American Gods by Neil Gaiman, since the title seemed appropriate, and I really rather enjoyed the movie and book of Stardust. So, it's Sunday morning. 24 hours until my first flight takes off. Normally, this is when on-line check-in opens, so I head over to the US Airways website to have a look. Ah, of course, my first segment is with BMI, so I need to check in with them. So I head over to BMI's stellar website to see if I can manage that. Their website did not recognise my PNR, but would accept an e-ticket number. Back, then, to US Airways, into Manage Reservations, find the e-ticket number, back to BMI, only to get an error. BMI are what we in the industry know as "special". Their IT set-up in particular causes great joy among their frequent flyers. What is very cool about them is their on-line check-in procedure. See, I was checking in for flight BD003, which takes off at 0910 on a Monday. But on a Sunday it doesn't take off until, say, 1030. Using BMI logic, the 24 hours before 0910 on a Monday doesn't start until after BD003 has taken off on the Sunday. As I started work at 1000, I couldn't actually check in until I'd finished work. Sweet. Gotta love BMI. So, anyway, I go to work, stay there for 9 hours and come home. I finally get to check in. I add my BMI Diamond Club number to my reservation, select a window seat for my BMI flight and fill in required APIS information. With that done and dusted, I pulled out the backpack I'd be using for my carry on and emptied it onto my bed. I was slightly confused because the only thing that was in it was a brand new copy of American Gods, yet I had a brand new copy of it sitting in a Waterstone's bag waiting to be packed into it. Apparently without knowing it, I'd bought a book I'd already owned and never read. Sometimes I can be as "special" as BMI. Apparently it is difficult to take a picture of an LCD scrolling screen, at night. This is the best of three that I took. Sigh. I left the house about half eight to catch the last train of the evening through to Glasgow, the 2105 to Glasgow Queen Street, stopping every six hundred yards to serve every settlement of more than six people, just in case any of them decided they wanted to travel to Glasgow that evening (hint: they didn't). Such is the problem with the last train, it's the slow train. I mean, that's a whole 15 extra minutes of my life wasted! So, anyway, I was at the train station about 30 minutes before my train. By this time the ticket office was closed, so I used the self service machine, got my ticket and went straight to the platform. Thankfully they had not locked the waiting shelter yet, for it was a March night in Scotland, i.e. freezing. While this is not the exact train I took that night, it is indicitave of the type of train I caught. My photos that I took that night came out blurry, so instead enjoy a previous photo of a First Scotrail Class 170, though this one on its way north to Aberdeen The train turned up, on time even. One of the advantages of the last train at night is the number of empty seats. Not only do very few people want to arrive in Glasgow at 2230 on a Sunday night, but First Scotrail will often put two trains together for the last few journeys, to position them for the next day's services. Such was the case this night. The front train was a three car Class 170, as pictured above, while the rear train was a two car Class 158. Inside, there's little difference between the two. The 170 has a nicer disabled toilet, and space for four bicycles instead of just two. See the kind of quality information I'm able to provide? Anyway, I got on the front train as it meant less walking when I got to Queen Street, a terminus type station. I managed to find space on a luggage rack for my checked bag, remembering well the time I got shouted at by the conductor for blocking one of the vestibules (or "the bits near the doors" in normal talk). Then I managed to get myself a seat at one of the tables, pulled out my laptop and launched myself into a game of Railroad Tycoon 3. Yo Dawg, I hear you like trains indeed. Thanks to the business of trying to create a successful Mexican rail-road, the train journey was over really rather quickly, and I was back in Glasgow. Thankfully I had arranged to stay at my brother's university accommodation, which is only around ten minutes from the station. Thankfully, because it was still Baltic outside. After a very cold ten minute walk, I lugged my surprisingly heavy case up the two flights of stairs to his flat, and suddenly appreciated just how warm it could be. My suggestions of going out and doing something were met with cries of "But I have to stuuuudy. I have a test tomorrow. I don't understand IEEE 754. I need to study". That was fair enough, as I was a graduate of his course, and I still don't understand IEEE 754. It's crazy, that's what it is. Still, somehow despite his need to study, we sat around in his living room until around 1am chatting, after which I was handed a sleeping bag, and shown the far, far too short for sleeping sofa. All too shortly my phone alarm started blaring. What kind of sick, sick man sets an alarm for 5am when he only went to bed at 1? Oh, right. Once again past me had stuck it to present me. He's a dick. Still, I was awake now, so I got up. I'm a firm believer, when travelling, of dressing to suit the destination. It gets you fired up, ready to be there. So that's why at 5.30am, on a Scottish wintery morning in Glasgow you could find me walking down the street in Shorts, T-shirt, Sandals and pulling a large suitcase. To say I was cold would be an understatement. First stop was McDonald's, the only place I know to get a bacon roll before 6am in the centre of Glasgow. Bacon roll, hash brown and orange juice consumed, and life considerably shortened, I headed for the bus station for the Glasgow Flyer bus service to Glasgow Airport Catching a bus at an ungodly time of the morning. O, the unimaginable hardship I go through.