Last night we took a red eye flight from Pearson International in Toronto to Heathrow International in London. Our plane left at 10pm Ontario time, it was about 6 hours long (for some reason I thought it would take way longer to fly across the Atlantic Ocean) and arrived in London at 9:30am, London time. Which works out to 4:30am Ontario time.
We are flying with Finnair (British Airways) this time. We’ve only ever flown coach, because let’s get real, who the hell has that kind of money for first class tickets. But let me tell ya, if we had a couple extra grand to blow on plane tickets, we would be first-classin’ it up. It is ballin’ in there. You basically have your own private hotel room on the plane. Coach ain’t that special. But we were pleasantly surprised to find in-seat entertainment, they give you blankets and headphones and all that fancy stuff. And they feed you. And the booze is free.
Anyway, 9:30 this morning rolled around, and we got off the plane groggy, confused, lost and excited. The airport is about an hour ride on the tube (subway) from downtown London, and being that we only have about eight hours total here, we decided to play it safe and skip the sights. A fella we talked to said the only other proper thing to do on a short layover is to hit a pub and sample the local fare. So like the respectable Canadians we are, that’s what we decided to do. He recommended a place called The Pheasant, which was a short (free) bus ride and walk from the airport.
Now neither one of us are opposed to breakfast beers, but still having our internal clocks set on Ontario time, and indulging in a meal of fish and chips and chicken and mushroom pie for breakfast, was pretty heavy. But it was so delicious. Ordering was confusing, as etiquette in English pubs is different from the practices that we are accustomed to. The server doesn’t come to the table, you go to the bar to order your drinks, and if you want food, you go to the bar to order that as well. Once we got that figured out, we were good to go.
The surrounding neighbourhood is interesting. A combo of newer and kinda haggard row houses, some with either a Range Rover in the driveway or an old worn-out mattress. It’s strange.
Now we are back in the airport, where Jeffrey is rocking a nap looking sweet with his eyeshades on.
And that’s about it for the London layover. If you find yourself in Heathrow Airport with a short layover and nothing to do, check out The Pheasant!