I've flown in a day early so I can spend some time with our partners from Distilled

[zihadhasan012]

The Heathrow Express was delayed by 45 minutes by a slow train in front of us and now I'm scrambling to make my flight. London's bizarre security triathlon doesn't make it any easier - first a pre-luggage screening, then the usual x-ray and finally a second x-ray just for shoes (with lovely pat downs, passport checks and ticket stamping in between). Once I'm through to the bazaar of liquor, perfume & wallets, I've entirely forgotten what kind of British chocolate bars Mystery Guest wanted me to pick up (thankfully, my AT&T phone's web connection is solid, so I can pull it up on email and stuff a monstrous heaping of Cadbury into my bag).


The departures screen says my flight's gate will be annou telemarketing leads, lebanon telephone number data nced at 12:30pm, but it's almost 1:00pm and there's no gate listed, so I grab a few snacks for the flight (if only we had these brilliant macadamia, cranberry & dark chocolate "Eat Natural" bars across the pond) and wait on line for 10 minutes, primarily to dispose of my remaining sterling notes. In the meantime, my flight's started boarding and Gate 34 is a good half mile track race from the posh vendors of Terminal 3 (honestly, who buys a $500 Hermes tie at the airport?).


By the time I arrive at the gate (for my fourth passport & ticket check of the hour), I'm a tired, sweaty wreck. 2:00pm GMT, February 16th Lunchtime with Will & Duncan. I feel a little groggy from the flight and I've been in the same clothes for 24+ hours, but my compatriots aren't yet commenting on a smell.