In America

Beth and John F, you can skip this)

It’s been impossible to find enough time to communicate as I’d intended during my travels. In my usual idealistic way I thought I’ be able to send regular lyrical reports accompanied by photographs. I hadn’t calculated on the immediately available technology being inadequate (guess what technology that would be and it’s not just my bias … none of these PC users can handle Windows either), or on hosts who found it a bit strange that Colin and I wanted to use the Internet every day.

Hence, all my photos to date (around 700 of them) are on Colin’s computer (and Colin is now on his way home) so, although I’m back in the world of Macintosh, I still can’t send the photos. So the pictorial overview will just have to wait till I get home. I could, of course, have uploaded them to .Mac, but I didn’t have time to cull.

A summary of the Europe bit: Rome, Germany and England were wonderful … Sweden less so (qualification: that part of Swedish life shared with us by my friend Sonja was delightful). I grew a little tired of brick red houses. All our hosts deserve 5-star ratings in international travel guides. There’s too much else to relate here, but here’s a tidbit … did you know that they have girl-boy tugboats in Hamburg, which perform a ballet at a yearly harbour festival? I kid you not.

America to date (in more detail)
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I sat in the Chicago airport trying not to think about the time in London terms so that I didn’t feel even tireder than I already was *(we had risen around 5am). I whiled away the time reading, writing, meditating (which refreshed me somewhat), and studying the people – trying to decide if they looked any different from Australians (for the most part they didn’t). The plane to Dubuque was delayed 3/4 hr, but by that time I was past the super-tired phase. One American Airlines flight was cancelled altogether and people were assigned accommodation. This scared me a bit, for if my flight was cancelled I’d have to use an American payphone, and the toilets were bad enough. The Chicago airport toilets had self-replenishing plastic seatcovers which sprang into action when you passed your hand in front of a sensor … but of course you had to read all the instructions to know this. Being of the ‘read the instructions only when all else has failed’ persuasion, I first tried to remove the plastic cover … which seemed a reasonable thing to do at the time. I probably wrecked the mechanism forever. I think this ‘automatic’ stuff has been carried too far. Quite often when I need to go to a toilet I don’t have time to read the fine print (speaking of toilets … a woman who otherwise looked quite respectable washed her bottom at the basin next to me, then dried it under the hand-dryer. [I have since been told this is not normal.] I wondered if she were French and making a public protest at the absence of bidets).

I felt quite insecure when I parted from Colin in Chicago (his flight left 3 hrs earlier … well, 3 and 3/4 hrs earlier as it turned out). Then I reminded myself I was in an English-speaking country (in a manner of speaking) and that if I couldn’t lift my ridiculously heavy suitcase I could probably ask for assistance. I also realised I’d probably have to tip for the privilege of receiving that assistance.

It was a relief to arrive at the small Dubuque airport and see immediately where I had to go … and there was Kathy Mills – immediately recognisable, and just as lovely as John described her. By the time I got to bed it was 4.30am ‘real’ time.

I woke several times during the night and stared uncomprehendingly at the bedside clock that told me it was 3.45, then 4.45 etc. In my dazed state I couldn’t work out whether it was local or London time, and kept trying to work out whether I should get up. Then I fell into a deep sleep again and didn’t surface till 8.45.

I had a most enjoyable 2 days with Kathy, getting an overview of Dubuque in a leisurely fashion. This is most relaxing after the instense (but fascinating) week with Mike and Anne in Chichester (I was afraid I’d have to answer a quiz at the end and I knew I had forgotten the names of all the roses and birds). We had a lovely time in Chichester though … and on the last evening we saw a brilliant production of A Midsummer Night’s Dream at the Chichester Festival Theatre.

Kathy and I cracked open the bottle of Ardbeg single malt I bought in the duty-free shop at Heathrow. I would have bought more but ‘visitors’ are only allowed to bring $100 worth of gifts into America … I suppose that’s because everyone is supposed to be already rich.

Getting out of Dubuque was just as difficult as getting in. My 6.45am plane was overbooked … annoying as we arose at 4.45 in order to make it. I had to connect with United in Chicago for the flight to St Louis – otherwise I would have accepted the $200 compensation they offered if I agreed to take a later flight. However, when they checked with United, it transpired that my 10.40am flight had left 3 hrs earlier. I should have checked of course, but there wouldn’t have been anything I could do except leave the previous day and spend the night in Chicago. American Airlines were wonderful … put me on one of their flights to St L in lieu of the $200. So I faced another 4-hr wait in the Dubuque airport. Then the plane left an hour late, and I had to sprint miles in the Chicago terminal and caught the connecting flight with a minute to spare (only because it left late too). The Dubuque security check was the most stringent encountered so far (I bet terrorists don’t even know Dubuque exists) … I tripped the alarm 3 times (despite abandoning various items of clothing), which was considered suspicious. Eventually we narrowed it down to the stud on my jeans. These, I might add, were the same jeans which had passed without comment through airports in Bangkok, Zurich, Oslo, London and Chicago!

And now I’m in Columbia, Missouri (doing my washing actually). Columbia is rather nice and Del Miller has told me everything there is to know. I don’t believe I’ve ever met anyone else who can answer every question you ask (I’ve accused him of making it up).

I’ve impressed both Del and Lysa because Pio, their most timid cat (they have 4), likes me.

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Well, that’s about all for the moment. Next stop (leaving Thursday) New Mexico.

FOOTNOTE; I did manage to master the payphone at the Dubuque Airport, by means of the phonecard Beth so thoughtfully supplied. Oh the power!