I absolutely love my friends and would pretty much do anything for them, including fly from London for the weekend to one of their bachelorette parties. Back in December, I met up with Carl for breakfast when our trips to Naples overlapped. It was then and there that I decided I missed my friends so much that I was going to do anything I could to get to South Beach for Lesley’s bachelorette party in March.
Well, I set out on Friday morning, almost missed my flight out of Heathrow due to all sorts of mishaps (late trains, unhelpful airport personnel and the lack of a first class ticket). I got to the airport and checked in 59 minutes before my flight. The check-in kiosk tells me that I am too late and the flight is now closed. Panic immediately sets in. Looking pained, I seek help and am sent to stand in another line at the ticket counter area behind 5 other customers. Again, the look of pain worsens and a nice lady asks me if she can help. Almost in tears, I am sent to an empty counter and a nice man checks me in, hands me a boarding card, and directs me to security. Things were looking up.
It is 8:30 in the morning and the airport is packed. The security line is dreadfully long. But alas, there is a short line for those inept passengers who can’t seem to get to the airport in ample time (me). This line is much shorter and is only reserved for passengers whose flights are before 9:30 – mine is at 9:20. They actually were encouraging lateness! (Loved it!). I get through security in about 20 minutes, have to bypass all of the tempting duty free goods and walk right onto the plane. We took off an hour late so my thoughts jump to 9 hours from now when I have to make a very tight connection in Chicago. Panic again sets in, and I spend the next 9 hours looking at the flight journey and watching the “estimated time of arrival” go from 25 minutes late to almost an hour.
We land in Chicago at 2:55. My next flight was at 3:30. Before landing, I was able to find out my connecting gate and map out a plan for getting from Terminal M to Terminal K (oddly enough, they are right next to each other but are connected by a tram). The announcement was made that those without connections kindly stay seated so that those with connections can maintain some semblance of hope that they will make them. Fasten seat belt sign off, EVERYONE gets up. I am stuck behind two old people who seem to have all day. I run off the plane, get through customs, the tram arrives as I get there, and I make my flight by exactly 5 minutes. Everything went just right, and I was able to relax for the next 2.5 hours.
I arrive in Miami and surprise the girls in the bar. Carl was the only one who knew I was coming. Lesley cried, Brooke looked stunned, and Meggie was smiling. Those were the faces I initially remember. Then of course Carl looked over and gave me a nod (like, "nice work girl – we kept our secret and got the reaction we had hoped"). The look on their faces, and the feeling I had was absolutely priceless.
The rest of the weekend is kind of a blur. We stayed at the Catalina Hotel right on Collins Avenue. The hotel was modern and a bit shabby but did the job. We had a nice dinner Friday night and then went to the Delano for some drinks. I actually stayed up until 5:30 London time which I was pretty impressed with.
Saturday we lounged on the beach, had a nice lingerie shower for Lesley, got some free alcohol and headed up to our room for some entertainment. Besides looking like the average Joe from the Midwest, he had Patrick Swayze dirty dancing hair and a terrible tick that caused him to yelp and clap every 55 seconds. It was hysterical, but also extremely irritating. Once that ended, we freshened and headed out to Mansion for the evening. Another late and fun night.
Sunday we had brunch then Brooke, Carl and I hung out at the Catalina pool after everyone else had gone. It was nice to catch up and just chat for a few hours before heading back to the airport for my redeye. The flight was pretty uneventful, although I did meet a potential friend. She was from New Zealand and had recently gotten engaged in the BVI – Anagada to be exact - Brooke, that’s for you :). Monday morning I arrived at Heathrow, hurried home, showered and headed into work. It made for a really long week, but the long journey and lack of sleep was all worth it, and I would do it again in a heartbeat.
Can’t wait for the wedding in 25 days!
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