Below Belief

By the time we reach Houston it is three hours after our proposed Gatwick flight left for England and we are delayed in the true Planes, Trains and Automobiles sense: the next flight to England is not until tomorrow. We collectively laugh at our bad luck – just about everyone on the plane has missed a connection to somewhere and Houston is trying desperately to cope with the backlog.
After an hour of queuing for assistance with Brenda, a Canadian girl also trying to get home, we finally get to speak to a woman from Continental. It is 10pm local time and it’s been a long day for both her and us but to her credit she is extremely helpful. We are put on a flight to Cleveland tomorrow with a continuing flight from there to Gatwick later in the day. Our bags, which are in limbo somewhere, will follow us by some other route and arrive shortly after us. They put us up in a local hotel for the night with no quibbles which I guess is their duty but we are glad it took no pressure from us.
We wait outside the airport for a shuttle bus to our hotel. Eventually, after another hour waiting with Brenda and Sarah, a British girl who has been visiting her photographer brother working in Costa Rica and is similarly delayed, a bus turns up and we all pile in. There must be fifteen of us and we all have Continental in common. There is a party of ageing Americans, an old lady in a wheelchair, a chap from Cambodia who is delayed for a second night running and a few Costa Ricans.
The hotel is a good drive away through Houston’s huge streets. The place is so obviously “American” – like one huge out-of-town shopping centre. We’re stuffed in the back of the bus on the floor. If only the chief executive of Continental could see us now. But actually I am quite impressed with the way they have handled it – especially since the weather is not really their fault. The “Lexington Suites” is a big motel but the rooms are great – definitely the nicest we’ve had five weeks and with air conditioning too. We’ve been given emergency packs including a toothbrush, shaving kit and deodorant which are vital since I feel like a tramp and we haven’t had our bags back. We’re also given a calling card to call home. Very impressive.
By the time we arrive it is 11:30pm but we get back on the bus to go to a restaurant, a 24 hour Texan diner which turns out to be a lot of fun. There is a meal allowance of $15 each for a menu where even the most expensive main course comes to $7. Coupled with Texan portions, country music in the background and a waitress with a thick Southern drawl, this place is just like the movies. When the waitress takes our order she can’t help but burst into fits of giggles at our British accents and says “I just love the way you guys speak. You’re so neat!”. Before long we are all in fits of giggles and can’t say anything without being laughed at. It is very funny and gives us a certain superiority.
I enjoy the finest fajitas all holiday. Fate has pushed Brenda, Sarah, Al and I together and it is fun just chatting about the Costa Rica and America we are all experiencing for the first time. We have a lot fun. At 1am the shuttle comes to take us home.
We watch TV to see the storm reports for tomorrow and then make some phonecalls. My “5-minute calling card” gives me 15 minutes talking to Mum and Dad and still seven minutes left to call Lizzie’s mobile. Amazing value. I enjoy a great talk to them all for the first time in five weeks.
I’m out like a light after a shower and shave. Have to get up in five hours time.

This entry was posted on Friday, December 31st, 2004 at 12:02 pm and is filed under Central America. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can skip to the end and leave a response. Pinging is currently not allowed.