Day 2: Heading to the Ranch

So I promised you a proper round up of the trip yesterday.  I actually wrote all of this once already.  It was humorous, no spelling mistakes or poor punctuation.  But I lost it when the wi-fi connection disappeared.  This one may not be as funny, will have spelling and punctuation mistakes, so please look past that and imagine what it could have been like.

Ok so I was told before leaving for Heathrow that terminal one was a "nightmare".  I visited Sweden last year (hey Anki and family), and went through terminal three.  On that trip I had to remove my shoes (big walking boots that take hours to get off) and belt (thankfully my trousers didn't drop), and still got beeped going through customs.   I then had to stand in a human sized x-ray machine and patted down by a security guard.  If terminal one was worse then what would I encounter?  Sniffer dogs? A full cavity search?

So I was pleasantly surprised when all I got was a "You ok?" from the nice lady in uniform.  No beep, no hassle, just an endless wait in the waiting lounge of desolation.  Airports are so boring.  Terminal three was ok.  It had relatively interesting people walking around; but terminal one!  Sheesh.  Big and boring.

The 11 hour flight was good.  Only once did a baby start screaming, food was nice (gave me wind, but that just meant I got more space around me), and all the seats had on-demand screens with movies, tv, audio books, radio... everything!

I was in seat 25a (not 42b as Colin and I thought).  When I got there the numbers stopped, so I asked the big american fella in the aisle seat if this was "row 25?".  "I hope so," came the grumpy reply.  Once the flight took off, he spent the whole time leant forward asleep.  This was fun because he kept changing the channels on the touch screen with his forehead.  Not so much fun was the having to wait for him to wake up, so I could get to the bathroom.

As I was getting settled down, the guy who would be sat in the middle seat joined us.  I figured that we'd be neighbours for the next 11 hours so I'd introduce myself.  He looked genuinely shocked!  But I did find out his name was David.  Are all Davids like this? I'm glad I made the connection though, because for the rest of the flight he'd inform me, when passing in the aisle, which bathroom was vacant.  He was always wrong, but the thought was there.

I watched three films (This will make Hanzi jealous).  A Good Day to Die Hard, which was the darkest film I've ever watched.  Not moody, or sinister, or full of dark humour, but just dark.  Everyone was in shadows, and I couldn't tell what was going on half the time.

I also watched one of my all time feel good favourites - Major League.  Dunno why, but I do love that film.  Then I finished off by watching Iron Man 3.  Great movie; the most human superhero movie I think I've ever seen.

On landing, and I'm not exaggerating here, we had to split into US Citizens and Visitors.  For every visitor there was at least 20 citizens!  Needless to say I sailed through whilst others just trying to get home were stuck for ever.  When it came to picking up the luggage, others were fighting over black and brown bags, but my yellow beauty stuck out like a sore thumb.  And you all laughed at me, well IN YOUR FACES!

No sooner then I had picked it up, I was off to find the BART (Bay Area Rail Transport).  Simple enough.  Get a ticket and get on.  I was confused and so asked a lady on the help desk.  "Get a ticket and get on," she said.  So I did.  I knew I had to change, but was confused over where and when.  After the first stop, I asked a gentleman and his wife what to do.  He was really helpful and directed me fully, then asked "Have they given the baby a name yet?".  It took me a second, then I realised they were talking about the little prince.

More excitement on the BART which took an hour from the Airport to El Cerrito.  Well I say excitement.  I meant a really aggressive rapper, rapping about Jesus into his phone.  "Dead sea scrolls, telling us how he rolls, blood sweat and tears, but he didn't give into fears," followed by a "word word".  I also heard someone call someone else "Dawg" in a very natural way that an english person could never get away with.  And so my adventure in America began!

That night I drank a lot of wine, slept well, and met to great people in Dick and Fran.

Today Fran drove me up to Bishops Ranch.  What a beautiful place (see picture below), so restful and stunning.  There is vultures here, lizard, rattle snakes and even a mountain lion (or so I've been told).  The people are warm and friendly, and all I need to do now is relax and contemplate life.

Simples :)

p.s. as I write this, the Ranch Caretaker who is called Cass, just brought me a beer!  He doesn't drink, but his wife thought I might like one.  I think they are now my favourite people on the ranch :)  Which seeing as everyone has been so amazing, is saying a lot!