We’re off to the Isle of Wight today. I keep referring to it as “going home to England” because it’s Stuart’s home and in a way, it feels like mine, too – or one of them. My gorgeous gracious mother-in-law is celebrating a birthday and we’ll be there to celebrate it with her, in the garden with friends and barbeque and wine.
I find it amusing that we’re skipping London entirely this time. On the way in, we get a ride from the always brilliant Dave from Heathrow down to Southampton where we catch the ferry to the island. On the way back, we’re riding the rails to the home of the darling Uborkites to spend our last night with them, before catching a coach from Reading to Heathrow. Skipping London completely! This is unthinkable to 20-year-old me, who adored London and couldn’t really see the merit of visiting the rest of England. Now, I feel like I’ve seen enough of London and love visiting England for the people – and the peace and quiet of the relative country.
I didn’t do a packing spreadsheet this time, but I did write down notes about what I was taking and our suitcase is meticulously packed on the floor of our bedroom. Tickets and passports and documents galore are all ready, as is a ziploc bag full of cables and chargers. Last time, there were so many petit disasters surrounding the trip:

1. Have BA international flights canceled because of strike at Heathrow, fly Newark-Detroit-Amsterdam-UK with 2 hours notice to be at the airport in Newark.

2. Stupidly nearly lose Most Important Document Ever, cause mayhem and heartache to everyone around us, mostly my dad who was on the receiving end of some very panicked UK-US cell phone calls from the Portsmouth ferry terminal.

3. Okay, that’s only 2 petit disasters but damn, they were big enough.

This time, I’m determined that everything within my control (I’m looking at you, AIRPLANE) will be under control. We’re packed well, we’re organized well, we’ve printed out everything we need, and we’re going to travel in style, not chaos.
So off we go to England. I am, as they say, chuffed. See you darlings when I land stateside again.

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