Thursday, 27 June 2019
Seattle, Washington, USA
Well, dear reader, this is it. The final day in the United States of America. After three months in North America.
Whilst requesting a late check out, which is not forthcoming, nonchalantly mention that they didn’t clean room until late afternoon yesterday, using it as a basis of argument for having a late checkout. Without even thinking, reception discount the room rate by $50. What?! What is it with this country giving freebies and discounts. Shall miss it. Can you imagine that happening in the UK?
Final bit of tourism by visiting the interesting Klondike Museum, in the nearby Pioneer Square.
Native Americans settled in the area thousands of years ago and it was only in the 1850s that the Europeans came along and built up the settlement, naming it ‘Seattle’ after local Native American tribal Chief Se’ahlt.
You see, dear reader, you’re still learning on this blog right to the very end.
No need to thank me.
Following a period of logging as the main industry, Seattle was built on the Klondike Gold Rush in the mid 1890s. In 1897, the steamship ‘Portland’ arrived from Alaska laden with miners and two tons of gold. Spotting an opportunity, the Seattle Chamber of Commerce aggressively marketed Seattle as the only place to outfit for the Klondike gold fields and as a departure port to Alaska. Helped by the Canadian authorities stating that all miners should take a year’s supply of provisions with them, Seattle rapidly became the main transport and supply point for the Klondike.
Sad to pack up and leave for the airport. Half hour journey on the light rail for only $3.
One word.
Bargain.
Very fortunately, travelling BA First Class, so security is a quick whizz through rather than the long queues. Surprisingly, there’s no rummaging through rucksack. Small stone Colombian statue has caused consternation at every other airport. Through in a breeze and settle down in the BA First Class lounge. A basic room with comfy seating. Not like the Concorde Lounge at all.
Board on time.
Turn left.
As usual.
Directed by a very effeminate air steward.
There’s more camp than a Scout Jamboree.
There’s a lot of mincing.
Settle into my First Class seat.
Ah yes.
Glass of champagne, Sir?
Oh yes.
It’s a knackered old Boeing 747 Jumbo Jet with ageing First Class suites.
Worn is a suitable word.
This is not Lufthansa First Class on the Airbus A380.
No.
This is just a little bit cramped.
And slightly disappointing.
Flight routing is over northern Canada and Greenland. 24hr daylight.
G&T sir?
Go on then.
Enjoyable fillet steak.
And a very nice glass of red wine.
Watch the inflight film, ‘Bohemian Rhapsody’. The Queen/Freddie Mercury biopic. Finishes with the Live Aid concert. 13 July 1985. Remember it well. And I bet you, dear reader, do too. Remember what you were doing?
Remember the Queen set very well. Freddie Mercury electrified Wembley Stadium. Those were the days.
Single malt whisky, Sir?
Go on then.
Cripes.
It’s a very large one.
That will make me go to sleep.
But it doesn’t.
My left leg is hurting. Have a problem with my knee and ankle. Could quite happily chop it off right now, such is the throbbing pain.
Right leg no problem. Can hardly tell I’m wearing it. So to speak.
Left leg is in pain.
Like the hokey—cokey, it’s a case of put left leg up. Right leg down. Left leg down. Right leg up.
In. Out. Shake it all about.
Trying to get comfortable.
But it’s impossible.
Then, for the first time, left leg starts involuntarily twitching. The sort of twitching that makes you kick the person’s suite in front. God knows what he thinks.
Now starting to panic that this is deep vein thrombosis. Having read all the horror stories, imagining a small blood clot working its way up my leg to my heart.
Oh. My. God.
This is it.
Am going to die at 37,000ft.
Oh well.
At least I’ve had a brilliant six months.
Might as well go out on a high.
