Brittrip report 1: Cardiff
Well, after a bit of a delay due to jetlag, fatigue, a sore throat and several other various excuses, here is the first of my reports on the recent trip to the UK:
After an uneventful flight to Seattle, followed by an even less eventful flight to Amsterdam, a delayed plane left my daughter, Jess, and I in a dingy little terminal waiting for an extra few hours longer than we'd have liked. The reason? Apparently the flight crew hadn't shown up. Really? Hmmm how professional. Anyway, eventually they found someone to fly the plane and we were once again in the air.
So what is it with the Cardiff airport? After getting off the plane you walk what feels like a mile, up, down and over (and around a few more times) through a hallway filled with 'interesting' Welsh facts. I think in the end you've probably just crossed a little-used road or something. Couldn't they have just put in a cross-walk (zebra/pelican/whatever crossing) and left us to it? After 18 hours travel time... so wasn't in the mood for local trivia about the number of miles of coastline Wales has.
In the end, I think it was all an attempt to make the traveler so disoriented they won't notice that their baggage is decidedly not coming around on the conveyor belt anytime soon... or indeed at all. While my daughter continued to wait for the absent luggage, I stood at lost luggage and talked with a nice Cardiff boy who said that every time he swears he'll never fly KLM again, but he lives so close to the airport he invariably does... and they also invariably loose/damage/destroy things. We went on to discuss other, happier topics including that his parents had apparently just been to see Robin Hood just the night before and had a great time. Yay, the show was good. But now, unfortunately we wouldn't have anything to wear to it. So, after a wait in line we filled out the forms, were advised that Amsterdam apparently had about 20,000 lost bags to sort out, and given a phone number to call for updated information… tomorrow. Okay.
So, a taxi to the hotel. Now I'm not usually the type to strike-up conversations with taxi drivers, and my daughter was looking fairly comatose by this point, but the driver asked if I was listening to the talk on the radio. I admitted that I hadn't really and he proceeded to tell me all about the rugby player who'd just come out and to ask what American views were on things of that nature. Yes, well, as Ambassador for America... Anyway, he was quite nice and after discussing many and varied topics we made it to the hotel despite the snow and ice everywhere. We checked in, receiving a package of things for the Ianto Shrine that had been sent to me, and headed for the room where we proceeded to crash for an hour or so.
As the hotel was conveniently located right down from the main shopping street, we dragged ourselves out in search of replacement toothbrushes, toothpaste, deodorant and hair-gel (my daughter's new hair cut demanded no delay in the acquisition of gel.) After some shopping it was back to the hotel. It was about that point that I started to think just what had been lost with the luggage. Besides toiletries there were our clothes and jewelry, and my things for the Ianto Shrine, the button badges for the Gillespie gig and the Casimir film, my Sherlock Holmes poster for Gareth to sign… All-in-all I was starting to get a little depressed about it.
So, as a great deal of our time was taken with the usual vacation travel events, plus trying to call for a baggage update (only ever getting an answerphone,) buy new clothes and such, I'll skip all that and get to the panto. It was the first pantomime for both Jess and me. (Yes, JB, you were my first.) And it was really a lot of fun. I’ve always loved live performances and was not disappointed. I still want to find out if the “Although someone I know insists it’s pronounced Sploe” was scripted or if it was an ad-lib based on my daughter shouting “SPLOE!” every time JB had said Splott earlier. (When he said it, he turned to the audience with a wink, so I’m hoping ad-lib.) The best parts were when JB just lost it entirely and couldn’t stop laughing. Especially when he came out at the finale and admitted that he’d been in such a rush to do the costume change that he’d put his boots on the wrong feet. I imagined after that, his dresser marking a big L and R on the soles in Sharpie.
After the performance Jess and I waited outside the stage door with a bit of a crowd. After a while JB sent a guy out with pre-printed autograph cards and the announcement that JB was leaving through a different door and due to a 12 performance a week schedule, wouldn’t be signing anything tonight. I asked the guy if there was any chance that he’d be signing the next night, but all the guy wanted to tell me was that JB ‘has 12 performances a week and with the sub-freezing temperatures couldn’t stand out in the cold tonight without endangering his voice.’ I told him I understood, but wanted to know if he was considering it at any point, and would it be worth our coming back after the next performance? At that point he advised me that JB ‘has 12 performances a week and with the sub-freezing temperatures couldn’t stand out in the cold tonight without endangering his voice.’ It was like trying to ask the BBC complaints dept. a question. (Thank you for your comments regarding…) I tried a third time to get a straight answer (as I didn’t want to stand out in the sub-freezing temperatures myself if there wasn’t a chance he’d ever show up.) Finally the guy very quietly admitted to me that JB hadn’t signed after any Robin Hood performance yet. I don’t understand his reluctance to admit that. I fully understand why JB wasn’t signing, it was bloody cold. But why not just say that it wasn’t going to happen? Why not say clearly that it wasn’t just for after this performance. Did they want the crowd waiting outside the stage door every night?
Anyway… We both really enjoyed the night. I don’t understand why there isn’t panto in America.
The next morning we slipped and skidded down the pavement to the Forbidden Planet store. Jess found a shirt that she fell in love with… one of those ‘evolution of man’ progressions, but ending with a tombstone and a walking zombie. I bought a Tosh action figure and considered a Capt. John but decided to wait. We crossed the street and went to Cardiff Castle. I finally managed to drag Jess out of their outer gift shop and into the castle itself.
As we hadn’t been to the castle on our previous trip to Cardiff, I thought it was time for some Action Ianto pictures.
And this trip, Jack travelled with Ianto.
In the gift shop inside the castle grounds they had a Who/Torchwood display. It was there I found not one… but 2 Iantos! So of course I bought them both. (Yeah, could you have resisted? Really?) More about them later in the trip.
That evening I got a call from the concierge desk. A suitcase had been delivered from the airport. Our suitcase. Huzzah!
So Cardiff Part II is here: http://coffee-n-retcon.livejournal.com/3997.html
After an uneventful flight to Seattle, followed by an even less eventful flight to Amsterdam, a delayed plane left my daughter, Jess, and I in a dingy little terminal waiting for an extra few hours longer than we'd have liked. The reason? Apparently the flight crew hadn't shown up. Really? Hmmm how professional. Anyway, eventually they found someone to fly the plane and we were once again in the air.
So what is it with the Cardiff airport? After getting off the plane you walk what feels like a mile, up, down and over (and around a few more times) through a hallway filled with 'interesting' Welsh facts. I think in the end you've probably just crossed a little-used road or something. Couldn't they have just put in a cross-walk (zebra/pelican/whatever crossing) and left us to it? After 18 hours travel time... so wasn't in the mood for local trivia about the number of miles of coastline Wales has.
In the end, I think it was all an attempt to make the traveler so disoriented they won't notice that their baggage is decidedly not coming around on the conveyor belt anytime soon... or indeed at all. While my daughter continued to wait for the absent luggage, I stood at lost luggage and talked with a nice Cardiff boy who said that every time he swears he'll never fly KLM again, but he lives so close to the airport he invariably does... and they also invariably loose/damage/destroy things. We went on to discuss other, happier topics including that his parents had apparently just been to see Robin Hood just the night before and had a great time. Yay, the show was good. But now, unfortunately we wouldn't have anything to wear to it. So, after a wait in line we filled out the forms, were advised that Amsterdam apparently had about 20,000 lost bags to sort out, and given a phone number to call for updated information… tomorrow. Okay.
So, a taxi to the hotel. Now I'm not usually the type to strike-up conversations with taxi drivers, and my daughter was looking fairly comatose by this point, but the driver asked if I was listening to the talk on the radio. I admitted that I hadn't really and he proceeded to tell me all about the rugby player who'd just come out and to ask what American views were on things of that nature. Yes, well, as Ambassador for America... Anyway, he was quite nice and after discussing many and varied topics we made it to the hotel despite the snow and ice everywhere. We checked in, receiving a package of things for the Ianto Shrine that had been sent to me, and headed for the room where we proceeded to crash for an hour or so.
As the hotel was conveniently located right down from the main shopping street, we dragged ourselves out in search of replacement toothbrushes, toothpaste, deodorant and hair-gel (my daughter's new hair cut demanded no delay in the acquisition of gel.) After some shopping it was back to the hotel. It was about that point that I started to think just what had been lost with the luggage. Besides toiletries there were our clothes and jewelry, and my things for the Ianto Shrine, the button badges for the Gillespie gig and the Casimir film, my Sherlock Holmes poster for Gareth to sign… All-in-all I was starting to get a little depressed about it.
So, as a great deal of our time was taken with the usual vacation travel events, plus trying to call for a baggage update (only ever getting an answerphone,) buy new clothes and such, I'll skip all that and get to the panto. It was the first pantomime for both Jess and me. (Yes, JB, you were my first.) And it was really a lot of fun. I’ve always loved live performances and was not disappointed. I still want to find out if the “Although someone I know insists it’s pronounced Sploe” was scripted or if it was an ad-lib based on my daughter shouting “SPLOE!” every time JB had said Splott earlier. (When he said it, he turned to the audience with a wink, so I’m hoping ad-lib.) The best parts were when JB just lost it entirely and couldn’t stop laughing. Especially when he came out at the finale and admitted that he’d been in such a rush to do the costume change that he’d put his boots on the wrong feet. I imagined after that, his dresser marking a big L and R on the soles in Sharpie.
After the performance Jess and I waited outside the stage door with a bit of a crowd. After a while JB sent a guy out with pre-printed autograph cards and the announcement that JB was leaving through a different door and due to a 12 performance a week schedule, wouldn’t be signing anything tonight. I asked the guy if there was any chance that he’d be signing the next night, but all the guy wanted to tell me was that JB ‘has 12 performances a week and with the sub-freezing temperatures couldn’t stand out in the cold tonight without endangering his voice.’ I told him I understood, but wanted to know if he was considering it at any point, and would it be worth our coming back after the next performance? At that point he advised me that JB ‘has 12 performances a week and with the sub-freezing temperatures couldn’t stand out in the cold tonight without endangering his voice.’ It was like trying to ask the BBC complaints dept. a question. (Thank you for your comments regarding…) I tried a third time to get a straight answer (as I didn’t want to stand out in the sub-freezing temperatures myself if there wasn’t a chance he’d ever show up.) Finally the guy very quietly admitted to me that JB hadn’t signed after any Robin Hood performance yet. I don’t understand his reluctance to admit that. I fully understand why JB wasn’t signing, it was bloody cold. But why not just say that it wasn’t going to happen? Why not say clearly that it wasn’t just for after this performance. Did they want the crowd waiting outside the stage door every night?
Anyway… We both really enjoyed the night. I don’t understand why there isn’t panto in America.
The next morning we slipped and skidded down the pavement to the Forbidden Planet store. Jess found a shirt that she fell in love with… one of those ‘evolution of man’ progressions, but ending with a tombstone and a walking zombie. I bought a Tosh action figure and considered a Capt. John but decided to wait. We crossed the street and went to Cardiff Castle. I finally managed to drag Jess out of their outer gift shop and into the castle itself.
As we hadn’t been to the castle on our previous trip to Cardiff, I thought it was time for some Action Ianto pictures.
And this trip, Jack travelled with Ianto.
In the gift shop inside the castle grounds they had a Who/Torchwood display. It was there I found not one… but 2 Iantos! So of course I bought them both. (Yeah, could you have resisted? Really?) More about them later in the trip.
That evening I got a call from the concierge desk. A suitcase had been delivered from the airport. Our suitcase. Huzzah!
So Cardiff Part II is here: http://coffee-n-retcon.livejournal.com/3997.html