I woke up around 10 and enjoyed the fact that I didn’t have anywhere to be. I opened the bedroom door, so the others knew I wasn’t still asleep and went onto the computer to sort through and upload the pictures from the past couple of days.

I didn’t actually make a proper appearance until about 2pm. By which point, Cathy seemed sure I must be starving. Later, she also told me that she’d read my blogs before I came over and that one had even made her cry. That’s how she knew I was a ‘nice boy’.

Originally, today, we were going out for a meal with the grandparents. That ultimately changed to a meal here, with some extra guests in the form of the Carlen family. It was nice, I felt bad that I didn’t get to talk to the grandparents more, but at the same time, I’m glad it was at home, rather than some fancy restaurant.

After dinner, we talked over what we were doing at night and eventually decided on what had been the plan all along. Go to the beach cinema and watch the movie that was playing — they have an open air cinema, down by the beach, that places a different movie every friday and saturday night. Tonight, it was Iron Man (last night it was Hook).

That ended up being really cool. The traffic, people and dogs were a little distracting, but if I was going to be here another weekend, I’d definitely wanna go again.

When we got back, we chatted a bit and then eventually headed to bed. Everyone’s getting ill and I don’t think I’m the exception any more. I had a really scratchy throat as I was going to sleep.

Day 4 —  We woke up today, after a night of re-dubbing korean soap operas and got our stuff together before saying goodbye to Stacey and checking out of the hotel.

Today’s adventure was to the Kennedy Space Centre. First though, we went with the MacAgy sisters to Cracker Barrel. I had some pancakes and syrup, our server, Chara, said my accent was sexy. So, I was happy.

Chara was in her 30s, but that’s not the point.

From there, we were off. We took out the Sat-Nav and told it where we wanted to go, then proceeded to ignore it pretty much the entire way. When we got there, we were impressed by the free parking (especially after, at Universal, we paid $3 a locker. When we just wanted to go on the ride and have our stuff be safe), we went in and again, commented at how reasonably priced it was.

From the main centre, we got on a bus which took us to the “Observation Gantry”, which was a bit of a letdown, it gave some cool views, but that was about it. The next stop though, was awesome, the bus took us to the “Apollo/Saturn V centre” which featured a 363ft moon* rocket, hanging from the ceiling, as well as a bunch of other cool apollo related stuff. The two films they showed us were also really interesting, for people who like history and space.

We left the Apollo/Saturn V centre on a high, ready to go to the next stop. Something that added to the excitement for the next stop was the fact that we’d been told on the bus that they were no longer going to the third stop after this weekend.

The bus was leaving at 4:30, so we stopped to have something to eat in the cafe before heading out. As we walked towards the bus, just before 4:30, the bus left.

There’ll be another one along, I hear you saying to yourself (not really, you’re not next to me, unless you are, but still, I can’t hear your thoughts) — Nope.

We asked the employee at the front of the line, she said No.

“You’re kidding right?”
“Yeah, I’m lying.” … “No, I’m not, you can’t go.”

Her name was Ashley and she was a bitch. Stacey would never treat a tourist like that, Stacey, if she had to, would have driven us there herself, hell… She would have carried us, if it meant we got to see it!

We got back on the bus, sad and deflated, our dreams crushed by the bitch named Ashley. Bitter towards all things NASA.

We boarded the Shuttle Launch Experience, which would have been cool, I guess, if they didn’t make it sound like it was the most real thing ever and just called it the simulator that it was. After returning to earth — something they didn’t actually have the simulator simulate, it left us in orbit. Lame. We went to look at the Astronaut Memorial and Rocket Garden and then headed out of the centre. Still bitter.

We stopped off at the Astronaut Hall of Fame on the way out. Figuring, if it was included in admission, which it was, we may as well get the most out of our money.

Heading inside, it actually ended up being pretty cool. It was a lot more hands on than the other site and seemingly more purpose built for tourists.

Overall, the Space Centre was pretty cool and, I’d say, worth the money if you don’t go expecting too much. The only thing that let it down was Ashley and her bitch face.

We left the Hall of Fame and drove back to Clearwater.

*rocket didn’t actually go to moon, or, in fact, leave earth. Gutted.

Day 2 — Woke up, generally lazed around until everyone was ready and then we went to Publix to buy our Islands of Adventure passes. Then we went to Chili’s for food.

After Chili’s, we started off to Orlando, with Abby driving instead of Janine, due to the fact she’d started to feel ill. The trip there was fairly uneventful, once at the hotel we were staying at though, we decided to check out Universal CityWalk. Paying $15 to park, only to find out Universal CityWalk is shit. We left disappointed and headed back to the hotel room.

It was at this point we found someone special. I don’t want to overstate anything… but… I found love in Orlando, and that love’s name is Stacey.

I don’t want to stay too much about Stacey, other than she has great stories to tell — stories that we could listen to all night, she’s enthusiastic and passionate about her job. She also likes pwning things.

I tried to get a video of Stacey for you, but despite the fact that she’s definitely not shy, I failed to get one.

Day 3 — Hogwarts!

We’d booked ourselves on the shuttle from the hotel to the park at 10am and headed pretty much straight to ‘The Wizarding World of Harry Potter’. I’d researched it a lot online, but it was still a lot better than I imagined it being. We walked through Hogsmead, just taking it all in and went into Hogwarts. The inside of which is the line to ‘Harry Potter & The Forbidden Journey’. Inside the castle was awesome. The detail is amazing. With little things from the books/movies across littered along the path.

The ride was cool too, essentially a simulator. You go from the Great Hall and fly out of Hogwarts and across the Hogwarts’ grounds.

From Hogwarts, we went to Jurassic Park. Got a little wet and moved on to Toon Lagoon and got soaked. Literally, not a dry spot. From there, Spiderman! The Hulk! Cat In The Hat…

Then we went off to the Three Broomsticks for some Butterbeer. It was nicer than I thought it was going to be, but it was extremely rich. I felt like I’d drank loads and then looked down at the cup to find next to nothing gone. I didn’t finish it.

DUELING DRAGONS! AWESOME. [I’m getting tired of blogging right now]

Then I went shopping. Oh, I actually went shopping before, I bought a t-shirt in Hogwarts. The other stuff I bought was from Honeydukes. A couple chocolate frogs, and some any flavour beans, as well as just some Honeydukes Milk Chocolate. Which I just realised will not taste good, cause it’s American chocolate. It’s all American chocolate. Oh dear. Hogwarts, you’ve let me down. Hogwarts is in the UK, it should be British chocolate!

Now we’re back at the hotel. Where we’ve decided we’re the cold open of Friends. I will not expand on that at all.

There were wings.

Left the house at about 11pm. Stopping off for a cheeky wee burger on the way away, at McDonalds. From there, we got on the road to Glasgow International Airport.

The drive down was fairly uneventful, the remoteness of Scotland’s highlands was only emphasised by the fact that there was absolutely no radio signal for a good hour or so. Oh, and I say uneventful, there was a big ol’ lorry that’d burst a tire and was half way across our side of the road. Apart from that though.

Once at Glasgow, we parked up and headed inside. Waiting to find out what desk I’d need to check in at. When it came up, we headed down. There was already a fairly big queue, so we joined the back of the right one. Something that was apparently harder for some people than others. A guy had gone to the front of the other one, only to be sent back, cause he wasn’t business class/hadn’t checked in online.

“It’s a fucking disgrace!” – he said. What? That you’re incompetent when it comes to reading signs?  — He asked to speak to a manager when he eventually got to the front of the right line, the check-in staff told him where to wait and pretty much laughed it off as soon as he was out of earshot.

Out of all the airport I was in (and I was in four) Glasgow Airport, for some reason, was the hottest. Sitting in the foodcourt area, I was literally sweating. It was dark outside, and in Scotland. Why are you so hot GLA?

Next stop was Amsterdam. I got off the plane and searched for a board to tell me what gate I needed to go to, and whether or not it was boarding. It said the gate was open, so I ran to it. Or walked at quick pace. I’m pretty fat and lazy.

I got there and there were already massive queues, I attempted to stand in it for a while. The queue wasn’t really moving, due to the weird security system they had going on. So I went and sat down.

The set up they had was a set of five or so podiums, with 5 or so security staff. They were taking passengers and sending them to a podium, scanning their passports and then doing the whole “Did you pack all your belongings yourself” routine. It literally took me like… half an hour to move 5 feet in the queue, which is why I went and sat down.

Seeing just how big the queue had gotten though, I decided I was gonna just cut in. Didn’t say anything, just pretended i knew what I was doing and joined the queue at the mid-point. No-one said anything.

Security went fairly well, apart from being told I was going to get “Extra Special Security Attention” — I didn’t, as far as I could tell. I got patted down, that was about the extent of it. But it did leave me worried about the american customs, if Amsterdam were being all SSSS about things.

The flight over was LONG. Not the longest flight I’ve ever taken, but LONG anyway. I got, maybe, 45 mins sleep in total and was sat next to a guy, who I think was dutch, but I couldn’t swear to it. He smelled a bit. Though, to be fair, I probably did too.

Delta wouldn’t stop feeding us. It was like they were trying to fatten us up. First up were snacks. Peanuts or Pretzels? Then Lunch Chicken or Pasta? Then more snacks, then copious amounts of coca-cola product beverages, then dinner. pizza and gelato. then more snacks. and more beverages. They were never out of the aisle with those trolleys.

Arriving in Atlanta, the customs went surprisingly well. I’d filled in a blue card on the plane, which I’d double checked with one of the stewardesses as to whether or not it was filled in properly. The guy was asking some awkward questions. The ones where they try to catch you out on something. But eventually let me go through. Despite the masses of people and no real queuing system, Atlanta was far easier to navigate than LAX. It was also made that bit easier when I found some Atlanta Travel buddies. An older couple, who were flying home from Munich to Tampa. I’m sure the guy’s name was Horrace, but I didn’t get the woman’s name. Let’s call her…Emelda. We helped each other through the train system at Atlanta, and went with each other to the gate. Saying goodbye on the plane. It was only an hour from Atlanta to Tampa, so I read some more of my book and in no time at all, I was on the ground again.

Arriving in Atlanta, I followed the baggage claim signs which took me onto a shuttle train. Eventually, I came across a group of people sat on some chairs with a banner saying “WELCOME MARTIN!” — That’ll be for me then.

We got to the car and drove back to Lauren’s house. Where her mum introduced herself “Hi, I’m Mrs. Field, but you can call me Cathy. We hug here”.

I’d been warned before hand that she would want to feed me and after the Amsterdam-Atlanta flight, I really wasn’t hungry. I hate some stuff though and then we all just sat around the table chatting. Eventually taking the conversation to the couch.

Later, we took Abby home, where I met her family as well. Her mum also hugs.

When we got back from Abby’s, we sat and watched the “Blink” episode of Doctor Who, before going to bed.

Today, the day before I leave, I decided it’d be a good idea to try and find my bag.

I bought a big backpacking backpack for going on the Eurotrip and I last used it when Ryan & I went to Paris in 2008. I thought it was in the hall, I was sure I’d seen it there recently. So, after lying in bed most of the day, wasting away the hours online, I decided to go look for it.

It wasn’t in the hall. Not where I thought I’d seen it, or anywhere else. Great.

I checked the kitchen, the other bedrooms (I knew it wasn’t in mine), I checked the livingroom. Nothing.

While weighing up some other options (I considered calling Jonny and asking to borrow his backpack — something which, it later turned out would have been a pointless endeavour, due to the fact that he didn’t have a backpack for Europe, he just had a normal suitcase), I checked the loft. Thankfully, just inside the hatch, there it was.

It’s now, 3:25am. In 24 hours, I will be sat in the airport. I’m not packed. At this moment in time, I’m filling Paula’s mp3 player with music for the journey.

In the process of packing, making sure I’ve got all my chargers together and stuff. I was going to write this before I actually left, but odds are I won’t have the time. Away to pack my clothes and stuff now and by the time that’s done, it’ll be time to leave.

Throughout the journey I plan to throw up a few tweets here and there, but I won’t be able to actually check anything until I get to the USofA.

TWITTER!

I’m currently waiting for some printer drivers to download, so I can print a few things off before we leave.

Went into town today and got some dollars and some sunglasses. Surprisingly (or perhaps not) hard to find sunglasses in september, in Scotland — You also can’t help but feel a little silly, buying sunglasses when it’s raining outside.

I’ve got camera’s on charge at the moment, so all battery meters are at full when I leave.

It’s September 11th, 2010. In three days, I will be boarding a plane, set for Florida. It’s far from the first time that I’ve been on a plane and it’s not even the first time I’ve travelled myself, but still, the thought of it is daunting.

I fly out of Glasgow International at 6am, going to Amsterdam Schiphol. From there, I fly to Hartsfield-Jackson, Atlanta International, before the final flight to Tampa, Florida.

The last time I travelled alone was back in 2006, when I went to Arizona, and while I got there in one piece and didn’t lose anything, it was still anything but a happy time. The problems only really came about in the American airports, where it felt like you were being treated as a potential terrorist. A case of “We don’t want you here, hurry the fuck up and get out of our country!” – Being shouted at, moved from place to place, without a second thought as to how confused and wary the passengers might feel.

The return journey was possibly worse than the outward journey. I’d checked my bags in at Phoenix. Using an e-ticket machine to print out my boarding card for the flight to LAX. Fine. I asked the woman who was there if I’d need to re-check my bags at LAX, or if they’d go right through. I was told I’d need to re-check them – with this in mind, upon arriving at LAX, I made my way to baggage claim, to collect my bag and then re-check it before the flight to Heathrow.

I waited. And waited. And waited. Nothing. I waited until every last bag was off the carousel. None of them were mine, I wasn’t the only one who was apparently missing their luggage, a woman, also british, was left waiting as well. We both made our way to the helpdesk. At the desk, a woman asked what flight I was on, I told her and when I did, she all but laughed in my face, telling me that my bags were checked all the way through. Great.

I’d wasted loads of time waiting for my bag that was never meant to be there in the first place. I rushed out of the baggage claim area and made my way around the airport (LAX is set in a circle) to the British Airways spot. Not knowing where exactly it was, I had to go around every single bit, checking each sign as I went. Eventually I found it. I went in, and searched for an e-ticket machine to get my boarding card for the next flight. I couldn’t find one anywhere and so went up and asked someone who worked there.

“Excuse me, could you tell me where the e-ticket machine is?”
“We don’t have any.”

What? Figuring she must have misheard me, I asked again.

“Could you tell me where the e-ticket machine is?”
“We don’t have any. What flight are you on?”

I told her, and she informed me that the flight was boarding and that I’d better hurry up and get a ticket and motioned behind her to the British Airways desk.

I ran to the desk, the whole area is pretty much empty (the flight was boarding!) I ask for a boarding card, and the woman at the desk asked for my bags.

“I don’t know where they are…”, I told her. Confused, she printed a boarding card for me and I ran around the corner, only to be faced by a large line for security.

Now, keep in mind that at this point I’ve been informed by the ‘helpful’ woman that my flight was already boarding. The queue had, at least, 60 people in it – all having to take off their shoes, empty their pockets, be scanned. How the hell am I going to make it to the gate in time? — I stood in line, as it slowly moved along. Sweating. On the verge of tears. Just wanting to get home.

Eventually, after what seemed like a lifetime, I got through. I ran to the departure lounge only to find… The flight’s not boarding at all. Not even close. So not close, in fact, that I had time to sit down — calm down — and tell the whole story to my Mum, via phone, before they even started boarding the flight.

Here’s hoping this adventure to the USA goes better than the last, in terms of travelling.