Day 1: Las Vegas.

Would ya look at this!

Yes, slots in the baggage collection area!

Hurricane Michael was creating havoc down in Florida yesterday and, watching the size of the system on tv and it’s predicted path, I did have some concerns about our flight being delayed or even cancelled so as soon as I woke up at 5am, I checked the British Airways app and saw with relief that the flight was going to be on time.

Considering I was making my way to Gatwick airport at 0830, the trains were not packed with commuters and it was the sort of journey where all goes well; at Surbiton station a train pulled in as I reached the platform; same thing when I changed trains at Clapham Junction.

It didn’t go quite so smoothly at the airport though. My bag had to go through the x-ray machine twice and then it was searched. I explained to the customs officer that l had a motorcycle suit with heavy protective padding in it; could that be causing a problem? He said no, but did I have a screwdriver in the bag? Puzzled, I had to think for a moment; then it came to me! Yup, I had a teeny, tiny screwdriver for fixing the minute screws on my glasses. He examined it, turned it all around, felt the sharp end with his blue latex-gloved hands before saying it was ok to take onboard. I never even thought about that so, be warned 😂

There’s not much else in that bag other than that motorcycle suit. I’d thought to make packing easier if I wore the jacket to travel in but in the end, I decided it would’ve too cumbersome and hot.

I had requested a diabetic meal for the flight but didn’t have much confidence that it would be as low carb as I eat, so had a really nice breakfast of two poached eggs, bacon and wilted spinach whilst at the airport.

It was lucky I did; the only thing I could eat of the meal was a little cube of cheese and one strawberry. This is a long flight of about eleven hours; I would have been pretty hungry if I hadn’t had that brekky.

Nevada is 8 hours behind the UK. Jan was just going to bed as I set off. Once it’s morning he’ll pack up and move hotels once again.

We land at about 3pm Nevada time, which is 11pm UK time. I’ve got a three-hour wait for the shuttle at the airport. And, I’ve just realised, not a single dollar on me. Oops.1BCFD35A-A097-463E-A948-596F9828E8AC34D76433-D1CB-4B56-A3A1-221B8A795D42D06F3A79-7404-42C5-87E1-F69F93063452


We’ll, it’s 1633 here so gone midnight at home.

The border control people here are so friendly and pleasant compared to many airports in the USA.

I thought this was funny; as we entered the terminal, there was a message over the tannoy. The American accent actually made me jump and feel confused. I’m so used to being greeted in Spanish airports, my mind just didn’t expect it.

I had a message on Skype that Jan was checking in to the other motel then going for brunch but not heard since.

Oh well, time to limber up these ol’ hips and get ready to ride.

On our way in the shuttle. The Canadian lady sitting beside me is on her way to play softball in The Huntsman Games. She has taken part every year for the last 15 years; she’s 80 years old! How great is that.

We’ll, it’s nice to see Vegas as the sun goes down.


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