Security is the funnest part, declares Rachel. Jim and I would beg to differ, but Virgin Airlines has a family line which keeps things running smoothly. We’re a well-oiled machine anyway. The kids know what to do (what to put in which security bins), where to walk (between mom and dad at all time), and when to talk (not at all).
We spent the afternoon in the St. Paul’s Cathedral, where Prince Charles and Lady Di were married, and a whole bunch of famous people are buried in the crypt below (like the guy who defeated Napolean). Then we zipped back to our hotel for luggage and a quick lift (in London rush hour) to Heathrow. Here we are, awaiting our gate number, cause they don’t give you that till an hour before.
My anticipation of our next overnight flight, and presence in one of the busiest airports of the world with four children, where people are flying off to exotic places like Oslo, Istanbul, and Cairo keep me from writing more.
Oh ya, and I’ve only seen one other family of four in our entire week; I guess no surprise there, we are in Europe (for the next two hours anyway).