Tag Archives: Olympics

The trip, Stage 2: London – Heathrow

Had it not been for the Olympics being in town, and that we were hauling three kids around, we would have considered running into London for lunch. But it turned out there was plenty to do in the airport. Scotch is very expensive in Israel, so I picked up a supply at a duty-free shop: Ardbeg Corryvreckan (114 proof: powerful but delicious) and my standby, Laphroaig 10-year. There’s something about buying scotch in pounds sterling…

We packed kosher cup-of-soups for our Heathrow lunch, because you can never get enough sodium when you’re traveling. The trick was to get some hot water. I scored some at a coffee shop. They were really nice, and didn’t even charge us. The fellow chap did poke fun at my use of “to go” instead of “to take away.” Good show. But the hot water they had was from the espresso machine, so it was incredibly hot. I think the metric system also allows them to get the temp of the water above boiling.

There were a fair number of Olympians going through Heathrow. We were hanging out in a central lounge-ish place with comfy chairs/benches, a TV, charging stations, etc. A group of athletes were sitting near us and graciously agreed to the below photo. They’re wrestlers. For Iran.

Taken just before I launched a surprise strike on their “nuclear facilities.”

Seeing their warmups, and that they were sitting right by us (note Deb in the background), I hemmed and hawed, and finally decided I wasn’t likely to get this chance again. I went up and asked what their sport was. These guys didn’t speak English, but a guy with them did. He told me they were wrestlers and, pointing at the guy to my left (right side of the pic), said “he just won the gold medal… for Iran.” He said the last part in a sort of apologetic tone, like I wouldn’t be too excited about that. But I smiled wide and congratulated him, shook both their hands, and asked if they minded taking a picture with me. They were happy to do it.

It looks like the guy on my left is Ghasem Gholamreza Rezaei. Stereotypically, the gold medal winner was more stoic, though friendly (too friendly? note his hand on my leg!), while the other guy was more effusive. I don’t know who the other guy is, but he looked like a movie star, with perfectly coiffed hair and a brilliant white smile.

Apparently, word of my goodwill photography got out, and some other guy copied my shtick. Dude, taking pictures with Iranian wrestlers is so last Wednesday…

Some of our luck ran out with our bags, as the El Al agent forced us to pay for the three extra ones — though he still did not weigh them, thank G-d. And the boys were very much on edge, Shalom especially. But, all in all, Heathrow was pretty good to us.

 

The trip, Stage 1: Chicago to London (UPDATED)

The last stretch of packing and prepping the house for our departure & renters was pretty hectic and stressful. It made it hard to focus on where we were going, and on not killing my family.

In the end, we had 8 large suitcases, each packed right up to (okay, maybe a bit over) the 50-pound limit. I am forever grateful to the AA skycap who put the bags through without weighing them.

“Hey, the service here is pretty good for coach.”

Things went pretty well on the first leg of the trip. Not only did we have the super-helpful skycap, but there was the nice gate crew who killed time by asking Olympic trivia over the intercom (when I correctly answered that Nancy Kerrigan was the Olympian who had 7 bodyguards at the 1994 Winter Olympics, I won a discount coupon that I had to give away — only good through October — and a silver medal, just like Nancy Kerrigan!). They also helpfully moved us to the bulkhead seats with a bassinet for Baby Mo. I’d planned to get to the airport extra early just for that (those are first-come, first-serve), but they even preserved my scamulous move of leaving the empty middle seat in our new row.

Yitzi has his takeoff candy tucked under his chin… for safety.

There are 5 seats in the middle, and we had 4 tickets, so I reserved like this: XXOXX. That middle seat will be the last one on the plane taken and, even if it is, the inhabitant will jump at the chance to trade for an aisle. No risk! Anyway, when the gate agent moved us, she kept the configuration, which meant no one sat there, and we had all 5 seats (plus bassinet) to ourselves. Score!

The melatonin kicked in quickly.

I was dreading the trip, because Shalom (our 4-year-old) is not famous for flying well long distance. He doesn’t sleep, then takes it out on the rest of the plane. So, this time, we decided to take the common advice we got: drug the children. Many suggested Benadryl, but there are kosher concerns, so we decided to go with melatonin, which many also swear by. At first, it seemed we had hit the jackpot. Fast-acting!

Unfortunately, we should have chosen Long-Lasting. After not-long-enough, Shalom was awake and possessed. Crying and unresponsive to logic, bribes, and threats. He did eventually snap out of it when we revealed the existence of his personal TV screen (hidden in the bulkhead seats of a 777 until you pop it up) and put on The Pirates! Band of Misfits. But he remained short-fused the rest of the way — not surprising, given that he had maybe 2 hours of sleep. Yitzi slept much better and Mordechai was, as predicted, the easiest passenger.

Between Shalom’s issues and the fact that an hour delay and an eastward flight gave me a quick window for shacharis (morning prayers), I got very little sleep myself. Nevertheless, we arrived at London’s Heathrow Airport tired but happy at about 9:30 a.m. local time.

 

Only women and transvestites may change diapers here.

Update: I forgot to include American Airlines’ blatantly sexist baby changing instructions in the bathroom. Check out the depiction of the diaper changer. Of course, I construed this as a statement of official policy and refused to change any diapers on the plane, to avoid getting tazed by a sky marshal.