The flight was…bearable.
As previously mentioned, Gimpy was able to get three seats and stretch
out. Certainly not perfect, but better than being forced to sit in the same
position for 7 hours. The boys were, for the most part, well behaved; I’ve been
on worse flights with them.
We landed safely and allowed everyone else to file off of
the plane before we departed. We had been told a wheelchair would be waiting
for us as Gimpy left the plane. It was. After being wheeled out of the gate
area there was an 8 seat electric “car” for Mayzie to ride in. For whatever reason,
me and the boys were not allowed to ride too, even though she was the only
passenger. It must be a health and safety thing I suppose. But we were told
where to walk and where we would meet up with her; the arrival gate.
Ryan Tim and I walked briskly (assuming the car would beat
us) but when we arrived Mayzie wasn’t there. They must be driving her a
different way as there were bollards which the car would not be able to
navigate through. Fortunately there was no real queue for us to wait on, so we
just milled around and waited. After waiting for about 10 minutes, being
advised to go through immigration and wait there for her (which we couldn’t do
as I had Mayzies’ passport). Although I knew British customer service might not
be up to the same standards I have become accustomed too, but I was not
expecting my wife to be lost within 10 minutes of being on British soil!
I herded the kids and walked back from where I came from. After
a few minutes walking back I found her. The car couldn’t drive any further, she
was waiting for another person to get another wheelchair and take her to the immigration
area. I was mad. I took a wheelchair and we headed back down the ramp to the
immigration area. We walked straight to the counter and got through with no
problems. Next the luggage.
Our bags were already waiting in a neat line for us.
Remember we had 8 items total to collect. There was no possible way I was going
to get all the bags/car seats on one luggage trolley (cart). Fortunately I had
spotted a sky cap on the way in. I got cash from the cash machine, and the bags
were loaded. Nothing to declare and straight out of the secure area we went.
After a 15 minute or so wait for mum and dad, we loaded the cars. The sky cap
had stayed with us the whole time while we waited, and my customer service
pendulum swung back to the positive. Two hours later and we were all tucked up
in bed at mum (mom) and dads.
The next few days were a bit of a blur. We were all jet
lagged and slept late. I don’t remember doing too much of anything for these
first few days.
After a few days we headed to the mecca of shopping; Royston
High St. Here we needed to open a bank account, register with the Dr., request
a viewing of a possible house dad had reserved for us, and buy a few supplies.
We made an appointment to open the bank accounts later that
day (without the kids), scheduled Dr. visits and began the registration
procedure; the first available appointment being in 2 weeks. We visited the estate
agent (realtor) and scheduled a viewing of the house we will likely be renting
for the next 6 months. After purchasing a few supplies the collection of loose
change began. For the non-Brits, the UK currency is pounds “£ “,
and pence “p”, (not dollars and cents) there are 100 pence in a pound, and has
8 coins; 1p, 2p 5p, 10p, 20p, 50p, £1 and £2. There are also 4 notes
(bills) £5,
£10,
£20,
£50.
As you can imagine, you can quickly acquire a pocketful of coins, referred to
jokingly as shrapnel, when using just notes to make purchases.
Later that day Mayzie and I returned to the bank, passports
in hand, to open our UK bank account. Since Mayzie has a job (She has yet to
post about that) and I don’t, she went first. After providing her passport and
work visa, and answering a few questions she was done. Then it was my turn.
This should be easy, we thought, I’m a dual citizen and have a British
passport, this should be easy, we thought. Nope. For proving proof of
citizenship there were many dropdown choices from the dropdowns, UK passport not
being one! WTF! Since I didn’t have any of the other eligible documentation I
needed a guarantor. Only in England! Because mum and dad are account holders at
the same bank I needed a signed letter from them attesting to the fact that
indeed I am who I say I am. The form was
completed, and I went to the car, drove home, had dad sign, drove back to the
car park (parking lot) and walked back to the bank. By this time Mayzie and the
banker had run out of things to talk about. The account was opened, and then
came the set-up of online banking. This seems to be more difficult than it
needs to be. Mayzie and I have separate online account numbers to access the
same joint bank account, as well as separate passwords and something referred
to as “memorable information” (basically a second password). What’s wrong with
a username and password people? That was completed and home we went.
We have been in the processes of getting the boys unplugged
and having separate bedtimes (they are still sharing a room). Ryan is rebelling
about being unplugged, but Tim is doing much better about going to bed without
Ryan.
Mum has kindly added me to her car insurance so we can run
some errands, primarily in preparation for our drive to Manchester, and the Olympics.
The next day Mayzie and I met the estate agent at the house.
It is a 3 bedroom with a nice sized back garden, a garage, and off-street
parking for 2 cars. It is also really close to the likely schools. However,
upon inspecting the house it turned out that the kitchen was right out of the
1950’s, or at least the ancient, crappy, oven was. It also had just 2 kitchen
cabinets. There are very few options for rentals in Royston, especially 3
bedrooms, so it will have to do. It is after all just a temporary residence.
OK, so that’s the first week or so done. It’s a long post ,
so I will call that it for now. The next one will be including the Olympic
event we attended.
Cliff
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