Ireland 2010
  
 

Day 13

June 22

  
  I'm up early as today is the day I head for the house. I realize just how early it is as I look out my window to see the deserted streets of Wandsworth.  
   
 

WIth all of my stuff sorted, I go downstairs to find that breakfast is ready a little earlier than yesterday. It's not bad and I make short order of it. Then it's back up to my room to get my stuff so I can check out and be ready for the cab when it arrives. When I try to settle up with the lady behind the desk, I immediately notice that she does not speak good English - not even compared to me. When I point out that they have dinged me twice for Internet service, she just doesn't get it. I finally just give up as some things are just not worth the hassle. About 7AM a cab does indeed pull into the hotel parking lot. I go out to him and ask -

"Heathrow for 30 quid?" which was the price Moff arranged.

"No, 40 quid" he tells me.

This strikes me as a bit strange, so I figure that I might just have the wrong cab or else this dude is yanking my chain. It's past 7 AM, and another cab pulls into the parking lot. I go through the same routine, and get the same answer. At this point, I figure 40 quid is the going rate, and the first cabby seems a bit more hospitable than this one. Since it's past the booking time, I decide that cabby number one will do nicely. We get my bags loaded and we are off. He's really quite a nice chap and gives me sort of a guided tour on the way to Heathrow. We talk about his life experiences and my trips and have really nice chat. When we arrive and settle up, he gives me a Triumph Motorcycle neck hanger to remember him by.

 
   
 

Once I'm in Heathrow proper, I know the drill quite well. For some reason, my passport will not read at the scanner. Finally the lady tries it again and it works and for this I am very thankful. When I get to the Continental check-in desk, the lady asks me how many bags I plan to check. When I tell her two with a carryon, she starts to talk about charging me for the extra bag. Still smarting from the rip-off they tried to pull on rescheduling our tickets, I get just a little red necked.

"Ma'am, since I am paying for two seats on this aircraft I really don't think I should have to pay for an extra bag. My wife had to go back early because of a medical emergency."

She could see the fire in my eyes and the fire in my voice and must have figured that this would not be a good day to enhance Continental's revenue stream.

"Let me get a supervisor then" she tells me.

"That will be just ducky with me" I tell her.

I don't know what transpired between them, but at least my extra bag flew free which is as it should be.

 
   
  After an extra bit of checking in security, I finally get on the plane and make my way back to the last seats that I had booked for us. It is good to finally be on my way home at last. I love traveling, but when it's time to go, I'm ready.  
   
  The plane lifts off and I can now count the hours until I am back in the good old USA. My country may have its problems, but I still love her and think she is one of the best places in the world to live. As the flight continues, two woman across the aisle want me to swap seats with them because their game consoles are not working. They give me the impression that the flight attendant is requesting it, but I sort of doubt it. But being raised a Southern gentleman who was taught to be kind to the opposite sex, I reluctantly agree. This puts my shoulder out in the aisle to be abused by passerbys, but at this point I don't really care. I just want to get home and be of some comfort to Sharyn.  
   
  I look out the window one last time and bid the UK a fond adieu. I do not know when I will return, but I have enjoyed this trip as the ones in the past though the tragedy still hurts.  
   
 

Seated next to me is a young lady that I strike up a conversation with. She is studying sociology and has been in London for a two week study.

"Why were you over here?" she asks.

"Well, I do a lot of motorcycling, so I came over to ride Ireland and Scotland on this trip" I tell her.

She finds that pretty amazing, so I give her the link to my web site. We both settle down then to get some rest since this will be a long flight.

 
   
  I am dead out when the PA announces that we are approaching Houston. I lend the young lady next to me my pen so she can fill out her landing card. When she finishes, I wish her good luck on her continuing studies.  
   
  Once on the ground, I head for the baggage claim so I can clear customs. I get my first bag right away, but my second bag is nowhere to be seen. I continue to wait, hoping that it will show up soon. After what seems like forever, out it pops onto the conveyor and I can make my way through Customs. With Customs quickly behind me, I make my long way toward the designated gate to Nashville. Since I have plenty of time, I make a stop at Applebees for supper. I order a good old fashioned hamburger and fries and drown myself in plenty of iced tea. Once again, it is good to be back in the USA! When I come out, my departure gate has changed so I have to head in a different direction. Once I'm at the proper gate, I call Sharyn again to see how things are going. She has been back to the doctor and they have determined that there is no cardiac problem and the surgery is rescheduled. So as it turns out, I will be there for her surgery after all. You learn in life that sometimes things are just hard to figure out so just enjoy the ride. Fortunately, it's not too long before the call for boarding comes and I join the cattle herd to get on my final flight. Houston to Nashville is short flight and I am particularly glad of it today.  
   
  When we land in Nashville, the terminal is pretty well deserted as it is late. At least there will not be any big crowds at the luggage carousel.  
   
  Both of my bags show up pretty quickly this time and I grab them and head for the shuttle. The old brown truck is still where I parked it and soon I am on the road to the Holler. It's been one of the most interesting trips in my riding career from many perspectives - and one that I will not forget for a long time.  
     
     
     
 
 
 
 
     
 
THE EPILOGUE
 
     
 
Sharyn's flight home turned out to be a real challenge for her. When she landed in O'Hare, the TSA decided they would use her as training exercise for a new employee. Here is an obviously ill lady, far from being a security threat, with her X-rays to prove her condition and they just choose to proceed. She had to remove her immobilization sling which was keeping her totally fractured shoulder in place and stand on a set of footprints while they gave her the once over. The insanity of this defies all logic or reason, but she braved through it and came out okay. So once she was over her surgery and we got our lives settled back down, we began to write letters. She wrote a nice one to TSA in Chicago after prying out the proper address from a person on the phone. Of course, she got form letter BR549 explaining that they were on top of it and doing what needed to be done. But then we really did not expect much more from it anyway. I wrote a pretty stern letter to American Airlines about our experience in Dublin and explained to them that if Sharyn had been injured when she fainted that my lawyer would be the one writing this letter. Once again we got the typical form letter, but at least they were somewhat apologetic about the matter. Hopefully, someone took that woman we had to deal with aside and explained a few things about customer service to her. With Continental, I wrote a letter explaining that I felt that we were treated unfairly and asked if there would be any consideration since I still had a portion of Sharyn's unused airfare in hand. Here is the letter that I received -
  
   
     
  Basically they told me that it was just too bad and they were not going to do anything. I would have been happy if they had at least offered some frequent flyer miles or some sort of attempt at acknowledging a bit of poor judgment was shown on their part. So once I pulled myself off the ceiling after reading their letter, here was my response -  
   
   
 

I figured that would be the end of the story and the end of me flying on Continental, but so be it. Evidently I must have struck a nerve somewhere deep in the bowels of the organization for shortly afterwards I received another letter. They profusely apologized and issued me an electronic travel voucher for the value of Sharyn's return ticket that is good for one year. The only thing that bothers me about it is why I had to write the second letter. But I guess sometimes you have to smack the giant twice before he wakes up. And, as Paul Harvey often said, "That's the rest of the story ...."