Newcastle-Upon-Tyne

So, it was about 4:30 AM by the time I actually went to bed last night. I got up at about 8:30 AM and took a shower. I found my eyes bloodshot, but they cleared up by the time I had a cup of coffee and packed my bags. We were supposed to be out of the room by 10 AM (even thought sessions went until noon - strange). I noticed that the duffel bag I had was quite heavy and didn't have a very comfortable handle to carry. I was supposed to meet Phil at the entrance to Windsor castle at 11 AM and it was with increasing panic that I realized that there was no way I was going to be able to carry both the backpack and the duffel bag around all day. I sent an email to Phil asking him to call me hoping that he could devise some alternate plan. The big probem is that most railway stations in England have done away with lockers because of all the issues with terrorists. So, there was no easy place to park my stuff as I toured the castle.

Phil was kind enough to give me a way out by saying that while he *would* like to see Windsor castle, he would not be devastated if we skipped our plan for the morning. So, I called my uncle in London and asked him if I could visit him instead. Not only did he agree, but he offered to pick me up from Waterloo station and drop me off at London King's Cross for my train to Newcastle at 5 PM. I took a cab to Egham, picked up my Newcastle ticket and bought a single ticket to beautiful Waterloo station. The train ride was uneventful and my uncle's timing was perfect as he drove up to the entrance of Waterloo station just as I was coming out. At home, I got a call from Phil who happened to be walking across Tower Bridge. Always the super-hospitable, my uncle invited Phil over for lunch and conversation and we even drove over to pick him up. My poor aunt had not one, but two surprise guests for lunch and still coolly managed to whip up an incredible Indian spread with iddlys, sambar, rice. Both Phil and I had our fill of the delicious food (we even ensured that Phil ate lunch the Indian way - with his fingers!)

We went for a little walk to the Tower of London (right next to their place) and then sent Phil on his way to St. Paul's Cathedral while we went home and headed out to King's Cross station for my train. We were supposed to pick up their daughter from a party and then drop me off at the station, but got caught in some terrible London traffic. So, poor Vidya was called and told to "enjoy herself where she was" while I got dropped off first, to be safe.

King's Cross is another beautiful English train station. It was opened in 1852 and was named after the surrounding area which took its name from a monument to King George IV that existed in the area around the time. The monument itself did not exist when the station was opened. It was built to be the London hub of the Great Northern Railway and is certainly grand in design. A GBP500 million restoration is currently in progress and scheduled to be completed by 2012. Did I mention I love these stations? It is like having a bunch of Grand Central Stations all over the place.

The ride from London King's Cross to Newcastle was comfortable. I was a little worried given my lack of sleep and that the train just stopped in Newcastle on its way to Glasgow. I had this mild fear that I would wake up and find myself in Glasgow. I did fall asleep, but woke up after an hour. I fell asleep again and woke up about 7:30 PM. Since the train was scheduled to reach Newcastle at 8, I decided to stay awake and read.

Srini (my cousin) and Gagan (his new wife) were at the station waiting for me and they took me out to dinner at a fantastic restaurant called "As You Like It" where I enjoyed a pint each of Radgie Gadgie and Geordie Pride, two nice local ales. The fillet (they pronounced the "t" here) of steak was exceptionally tender and delicious. There was even a decent band that came on at about 10 PM. We then walked around town a bit enjoying the sights of Tyne bridge, Millennium bridge, the Sage in Gateshead. We then walked down Grey's road which was overflowing with drunken revelers on Saturday night. The Earl Grey was from Newcastle (yeah, the tea guy) and there is, of course, a massive and impressive monument to Earl Charles Grey in the center of town.

Got home and chatted for a while before going to bed at about 1:30 AM.

Back to Egham

Since I was savvy enough to purchase my ticket from London to Newcastle online, I decided to head to Egham railway station to pick up the ticket (I was supposed to get it from one of the ticket kiosks at the station). When I purchased the ticket online, I was repeatedly reminded that I needed to use the credit card that I used online to pick up the ticket from the automatic kiosk. So, I put my Tilley hat back on, set my stopwatch (to see how long the walk *really was) and headed back to Egham.

Embarassingly, despite my complaining earlier, it took me only 18 minutes 45 seconds to get to the railway station. Of course, my last trip into Egham involved many detours since I didn't know what the hell I was doing, but it was depressing to know that it actually was only a 19-minute walk. I kept regaling people with my stories about how Egham is "at least" 45 minutes away!

I get to the station and at the kiosk there was a clearly marked button that said something like "Pick Up Tickets Purchased Online." So, I clicked on it and it asked me for the credit card which I triumphantly swiped. Then, it asked me for the confirmation number. Now, I *did* have a confirmation number that I received when I bought the ticket, but because of the repeated reminders about the credit card, I had convinced myself that I did not need to carry the number with me. In hindsight, I guess all you smart alecks are wondering why i didn't just carry that confirmation number with me since I had even savedf a copy on my hard drive. Well, you weren't repeatedly reminded by the site to carry the credit card used for the purchase.

The point being that I stood there at this damn kiosk wihtout having the confirmation number with me. I tried about six different combinations (that I later found out were close but never close enough) and then gave up. Damn British Rail needed the confirmation number to pick up the ticket, but all they had rtold me (repeatedly) was to make sure that I had the credit card (which I did). Why they couldn't let me know that I also would need the confirmation number to pick up the ticket I don't know. We've never been really been able to understand the English anyway.

So, I aimlessly wandered around town for a short while refusing to admit that the entire walk into town had been completely wasted. Realizing there was nothing else I needed, I walked back to RHU knowing that I would have to come back to the station.

You should know that I attended another couple of conference sessions in the morning that were quite good. I also made it back into town to attend an afternoon session. During the lunch hour, there was a tour of RHU that I enjoyed a great deal. I should point out that the University was built in 1886 and not 1888 as I had mentioned previously. The red brick building cost Mr. Thomas Holloway just about GBP700,000 and in their first few years, they only had about 28 students. So, life was quite luxurious for these 28 women (it was a college for women only until 1965). The chapel was beautiful as is the south quad with Queen Victoria sternly looking over everyone. They have an incredible "picture gallery" in the Founder's building with some great paintings, but we were told that most of the really valuable paintings in the gallery are currently touring galleries in America and will be back on display here next year. One of the paintings I loved is on the left. It is "Early Sorrow" by someone called H. LeJeaune. While I still have not learned to appreciate the contemporary art of the sort that hangs in our LSBE building, I challenge anyone not to admire and love the talent on display in a painting like this one.





In the evening, we had a BBQ in the north quad with the usual tasteless food. I tried the vegetarian burger hoping it would be better than the rather insipid looking beef burger. It wasn't terrible, but I wouldn't pay for one in a restaurant. Dessert was "summer pudding." You can see the remnants of my summer pudding on the right. It didn't taste much different than it looks in the picture.




After enjoying a "Blue Hawaiian" and a few glasses of wine, we were all urged to head to the "Medicine" which is the name of their bar. I have found a new favorite beer. I was introduced to John Smith's - a stout that was absolutely delicious. I think it was the fact that I ended up having 5 (or maybe it was 6) pints of John Smith's that led to me finding myself on the dance floor. Anyone who knows me fully understands that I hate to dance, am very self conscious, and would rather stand on the sideline watching others dance. Still, I spent most of the night on the dance floor (I hope there are no videos) and just got back to my room.

It is 3:40 AM.

Lost in Egham

The conference sessions started at 9, but it was still about 9:15 before I could drag myself out of bed and shower. I got myself showered and shaved and made it in time for the first coffee break. The first conference session I attended was actually very interesting and quite good. Although I have no shortage of ideas for research, the sessions helped me think of some extensions to an idea that has been fermenting in my mind for a few years now about the implications of conceptualizing "hope" and "anticipated regret" as two anchors of a single emotional dimension of forward-looking counterfactual thinking. It helped me think through some other ideas on the implications of this conception for message framing and consumer satisfaction definition. But, most of you reading this blog couldn't care less, so I'll spare you the details. I do have a full page of notes, though.

Lunch consisted of many plates of sandwiches labeled "meat," "fish," and "veg." I sampled several of these sitting outside and enjoying the sunny but pleasant weather. Since I still hadn't bought a SIM card for my phone (the free sim card I ordered from t-mobile.co.uk never arrived in Purley), I decided to take the short walk into Egham town to see whether they had some mobile phone store where I could get a sim card and top it up.

I got lost even before I left the campus. I tried to follow the campus map, but it wasn't that well labeled. It was after walking for ten minutes that I discovered I had walked past a side road I needed to take and was on the other side of campus. Lots of campus construction did not help and after more aimless wandering, I found the narrow path that was supposed to lead to Egham town centre. Once I left the campus gate, I found myself right in the middle of a residential area with numerous local streets and no signage to the town centre. I wandered aimlessly in the same general direction I was heading and occasionally asked people which way to go. They all seemed to suggest that I just needed to walk in a certain general direction and that giving specific directions would be too complex. It was quite nice to walk through these typically English neighborhoods even though I kept walking and discovered that this town centre was about a mile or two away. Don't miss the Austin Mini on the street in the photograph.

Finally, I made it to the town centre which was really not much to write home about. It is basically a narrow street with various retailers on either side of the street. I stopped in to the "Iceland Supermarket" and asked them about a mobile phone store and was told there wasn't one in Egham. The clerk did say that the Tesco Supermarket down the street may have SIM cards and I walked down to Tesco. I find supermarkets irresistable when I travel abroad and spent some time wandering the store. I made sure that they still sell "Kinder Eggs" in England and also made a mental note of other chocolate to buy before I head back home. When I was a kid, my parents would travel to England and bring home Cadbury caramels and Curly Wurly. Both are still available and worth buying for nostalgic reasons. Neil liked the "Nestle Aero" chocolate bars when we were in France some years ago and I may pick up some of that too. But, I'll leave that for Newcastle. I also bought some beer from a display that said "sample our local brews." Couldn't resist buying a bottle of "Hobgoblin" from "Wychwood Brewery." I then wandered over to a rather strange mural on the street that looked very "olde englysh" but had no explanation (see picture on the left). I looked around and realized I had no idea which way to head to get back to the University.

After walking along a bit, I decided to ask a lady how to walk back to the University. "Oh dear," she replied. "You're quite far away. It's at least a half hour walk." "That's fine," I replied, "I have time." She looked around for a moment and then said pointing in a general direction that was directly opposite to where I was heading, "Well, it's up there on the hill. Just head in that general direction and you'll see the tower on the hill in front of you. Just keep heading towards it." After heading back the way I came, I did, in fact, see the tower on the hill and wandered through the residential streets keeping an eye on the tower. Surprisingly, after asking only a couple of people on the way, I managed to get back to the gate I had taken to leave the campus and found myself back at Wedderburn Hall where I am staying. If you look carefully in the photograph, you can see a little bit of the tower poking up above the treeline in the background right in the center of the picture.

Now I really felt the impact of the lack of airconditioning or any air-flow that I had mentioned yesterday. I'm back in my room after a long walk and sweating profusely. There is no fan to cool down with and no airconditioning to relax to. There was nothing I could do but strip off my clothes and splash cold water on my face and upper body. It took a good half hour to stop sweating like a pig sitting in an airless room. I don't get what people here do. There must be some magical system they use to cool down in these rooms that I am not privy to. I can't imagine they plan on cooling down with a pint of warm beer. At the conference breaks, even the water tables have water and juice at room temperature ... If anyone has any ideas, please post them here.

I have to add one little interesting note here that may subject me to some ridicule. I found it slightly interesting that when I stopped people on the street and asked them for directions, I tended to put on a slight English accent. Now, before you say anything, I wasn't doing my Harry Potter imitations that leave the kids in stitches. However, I noticed that I would change the pitch of my phrase slightly whenever I asked directions here. The slightly sing-song upward pitch at the end of the question is different than when I ask directions in the US. This is not intentional at all. I am not *trying* to put on a British accent, but weirdly enough, I tend to naturally talk very slightly differently to locals. I even notice that my accent unconsciously changes when I talk to my Indian friends compared to when I chat with American friends. I'll try and add some sound clips to this blog to try and better explain what I mean.

In the evening, we had a reception in one of the two courtyards of the Founder's Building. This building is the campus centerpiece and is a spectacular structure. The history of the University is interesting in its own right. Thomas Holloway (after whom the University is named) was a snake oil salesman in the early 19th century. He made millions selling a remedy for everything from asthma and "womens' problems" to consumption and cancer. Of course, his "remedy" contained no active ingredients, but thanks to the well-established "placebo effect" was seen as an incredible remedy. Since Thomas and his wife had no children, at some point he turned philanthropist and wanted to distribute his millions of pounds. He built the Founder's building for the University and it was inaugurated by Queen Victoria in 1888. That's Mr. and Mrs. Holloway you see in the picture of the courtyard on the right. Interestingly, his second big contribution was to build an insane asylum in the same area. Some would argue that these were both completely congruent contributions. Others have pointed out that a University founded by a snakeoil salesman is a particularly appropriate venue for a marketing conference. I have hopefully pre-empted many of your comments by including those arguments right here in the blog post. I started the evening with some "Strongbow Cider" and the continued with a couple of glasses of Pimms (apparently a very common local drink), which, if you follow the link, you'll find is 25% alcohol! A large group of us then headed to a local Indian restaurant (Megna, by Englefield Green) and enjoyed a couple of beers and some great Indian food. A smaller group of us then headed back to the lounge in Wedderburn Hall to enjoy the three bottles of beer I had bought at Tesco earlier in the day.

Transportation Woes Continue

So, I finally got to London. Despite being a fairly good "flight sleeper" normally, I didn't get much sleep on the plane and arrived in London more tired than I wanted to be. Sicne the flight got in at about 7 AM, I decided to go to my uncle's place in Purley and relax a bit before heading to the Royal Holloway University of London.

Rather than taking the cheap train to Central London (50 minutes), I opted for the Heathrow Express which gets you to Paddington Station in less than 20 minutes (at a much higher cost). At Paddington, I switched over to the Central Line to get to Victoria station where I had to switch over to the Main Line to get to Purley. By the way, I have to give kudos to British Rail for the incredibly well thought out signage everywhere at the ststainos. Despite being a confusing morass of different lines and train systems headed all over the city and outskirts, I never had trouble knowing where to go at these stations. I had to switch lines, terminals, and platforms, btu at every point there were clear signs telling me where I needed to go. As the English would say, "Bloody Brilliant!"

The short ride on the circle line to Victoria extended my bad luck on the transportation front this week. While the entire tube system was running well, two stops into my ride, the train stopped and there was an announcement that there was a problem at the monument station and that we would be delayed. We finally pulled into Gloucester Road station and were informed that the train had been told to stop there indefinitely until the problem at Monument was fixed. With that 20+ minute delay, the time I gained taking the Heathrow Express was effectively wiped out.

I finally made it to Victoria and found out that my best bet was to take a train to East Croydon and then switch there to a train to Purley. All of this was relatively painless and smooth. I should also give another quick shoutout to the beauty of the big train stations in London. Paddington, Victoria (and later Clapham Junction) were all beautiful structures and I could have spent an hour in each place just wandering around watching people and admiring the architecture. There is something quite special about the environs of an English train terminus that everyone should experience.

I got to Purley and had some trouble calling my uncle (public telephones are not quite as ubiquitous as they used to be). But, I finally got through and he came by and picked me up. I was fed a great Indian meal at home after I showered and cleaned up. We watched Federer start to lose to Berdych and I was driven back to the train station so I could head to Egham, my destination for the conference.

By this time, I was definitely fading. I hopped on the train at Purley and saw that I had a 25+ minute ride to Clapham Junction where I would switch to the Egham train. The next thing I remember after getting on the train is waking up and finding that the train was *just* leaving Clapham Junction. I had fallen asleep and missed my stop. I got off at the next station and took a train back. Luckily the trains are so frequent and well managed that this was not a big problem (except for the lost time). Fifteen minutes after landing at Clapham Junction, I was on the train to Egham.

Egham is a tiny village outside London with a correspondingly tiny train station. There were only two taxis at the stand and someone had beaten me to them. Since the lady asked to be taken to the University, I just asked her if she was heading to the ACR conference and whether I could ride with her. Meanwhile, another conference attendee overheard and joined us for the short ride to the University.

The room was as spartan as I experienced during my last stay at University accommodations in France (LaLonde conference) many years ago. Despite this being the "premium en suite" accommodations costing GBP60 per night, it was a basic tiny dorm room with no phone or TV. Most disturbing to this spoiled American was the fact that like my LaLonde experience several years ago, there was no air conditioning or even a fan. I just don't understand this "no fan" business. How are you supposed to live through the summer (especially at night) when there is no air movement in the room? Luxury accommodations this is not.

I went for the conference reception and registration which was held in the beautiful Founder's Building Courtyard (photos of this will come later as I didn't have my camera). Had a couple of drinks and met several friends and colleagues. We went to the Founder's dining hall for a rather awful dinner. The "Malaysian Chicken" was rather tasteless and they refused to give me any of the "vegetable biryani" or "tomato soup" as I was told I was allowed only one of the options. A group of us then headed to the "Happy Man," a local pub where I enjoyed a pint. This time, the fact that it was slightly warm beer that tasted strong just added to the ambience and did not cause any complaints.

By the time I got to my room at about 10:45 PM, I had a splitting headache. I remember taking a couple of Advil and lying down in bed. Next thing I remember is looking at my little travel clock and finding that it is 8:30 AM.

Hurrying up and waiting ...

I just figured that my previous post was too long already and this new tidbit would go unnoticed.

I just checked and found that our 6:15 flight now shows as delayed. It currently shows as departing at 6:45 PM, but that's how things started yesterday.

Didn't I say something about deja vu all over again recently?

Communication Breakdown

So, here I am in a hotel room in Detroit - 3700 miles from where I want to be.

The story of how I got here reads like a comedy of errors. It would seem that Delta airlines has never had a canceled flight before and they had to scramble to figure out how to handle this.

First, given that they were aware of the problem before 6 PM last night, you would think someone would be responible for contingency planning. When the "computer reboot" didn't work, shouldn't it have triggered some process by which contingency plans were drawn up for dealing with 300-plus irate passengers in a 767 should the problem not be an easy fix. At numerous points during the repair process, they had the opportunity to set up backup alternatives. Apparently nothing like that happened. We were left waiting and wondering as they changed the departure time from 10:00 PM to 10:30 PM to 11:00 PM to 11:45 PM to 1:00 AM before finally canceling the flight at about 1:30 AM. Did they really have to keep us waiting until that long before canceling the flight? Still, it was only after this that things really went down hill. There were actually two sub-breakdowns here as a result of the lack of contingency planning - why did it take that long to make the cancelation decision? and, why does it take 24 hours to get a replacement plane?

Breakdown Two: I should express some appreciation to the Delta Skyclub folks who kept the club open for all of us Heathrow and Minneapolis (another delayed flight) passengers until we left at about 1:30 AM. Although they put away all food and beverages at 10:00 PM, it was nice to at least stay in the lounge with access to a minimally comfortable chair and access to a power source and Internet access. But then, when we headed down to the gate, there was chaos. There were no clear signs or lines or any indications on what to do. People clustered around various gates where there seemed to be agents helping people. On asking around, we were told that we just stand in one of the lines at gate A28 or A25 (there were clusters of people and no lines) to simply pick up hotel and meal vouchers. The line I was in took ages even though there were only about five or six people in front of me. The printer wouldn't work and the agent had to keep running from one counter to the next. Then, there did not seem to be any meaningful order in which the hotels were allocated. Some got the Hyatt Regency, some got the Sheraton, and I got the Holiday Inn. No instructions were given as to where to go, how to reach the htoel, and how to get back for the rescheduled flight. I had to ask someone about amenities (since I had responded to overcrowded cabins by packing a VERY small carry-on that only had my book and laptop) and they directed me to a gate where there would be a box with the toiletery pouches. There was still no one directing people to appropriate ground transportation. Their meal vouchers were for a whopping six dollars each! The management of the process of allocating hotel and meal vouchers at the gate was a mess.

Breakdown Three: I followed the crowd heading to the ground transportation area. WHen I got to the area marked "Hotel Shuttles," I found a relatively large group of confused passengers looking around for a shuttle appearing confused. No one seemed to know what to do and where to go. I went to the board with the hotels listed and tried to find the "Holiday Inn Southgate" and came up blank. I called the number listed for the Holiday Inn Express and they said they have nothing to do with the Holiday Inn Southgate and had no idea how I could contact them. He did transfer me to their general reservation line and the person there had no idea how I could contact the Holiday Inn Sothgate. She gave me the number for what she said was the hotel, but when I called it, I was back to the Holiday Inn Express. Several of the passengers called the Holiday Inn Southgate and were told that transportation was the airline's responsibility and they had no information on how we were to get to the hotel. As we were standing around wondering what to do (it was a long walk back and back through security to the gate), someone came by and said and told a few of the people that we were in the wrong spot and needed to head to a different point where coaches were waiting. She just said this to a few people around one cluster and walked quickly away before the rest of us before we could ask her what she said. We had no choice but to follow the group that had spoken to the lady. We trooped back into the terminal and ended up at the luggage claim. Then, everyone stopped and looked around bewildered. I went to one of the people who had spoken with the lady and they still appeared confused "Where did she ask you to go?" I inquired. "Well, here, I think ..." came the uncertain answer in a clipped English accent. I then headed away from the lost group (since I figured the coach is unlikely to be inside the baggage claim area) and found two large coaches waiting outside baggae claim. I called the group over. There were two coaches engaged in deep conversation with a Delta agent. The coach drivers weren't sure which coach was going to the Holiday Inn, but asked us just climb into one of the coaches now. The driver got on the mic and told us that the agent wasn't sure how many people still needed a ride so we just had to wait until they knew if everyone had been rounded up. He also said that the agent had no idea what to do after we got to the hotel and had no idea when we would be picked up the next day, "It could be 2:00 or 2:30 PM," he said helpfully "because the airline wants you back three hours before the flight." Overall, the process of keeping passengers informed of the process of getting us to our final destination was botched.

Breakdown Four: We finally get on our way and find that this hotel is a good forty minutes away from the airport. Now, remember this - the hotel has been told that a flood of stranded passengers were on their way. Several of the passengers had called the hotel wondering how to get there. It is 3 AM. It is reasonable to expect that the hotel is all set up to manage the coach full of tired and angry passengers, right? We get to the hotel and crawl out of the coach in a big grumpy bunch and find there is ONE person at the registration desk to help us all. We find ourselves in a long line as this one lady tries to get everyone's name in, respond to the various prompts, assign rooms, etc. Couldn't they have had all this set up before the coach arrived? WHile the lady was pleasant and kept apologizing for the long list of prompts she had to respond to, it still took ages. I was near the front of the line and was in my room by about 3:15 AM.

Breakdown Five: Still primarily the responsibility of the hotel. We asked about breakfast and the lady said that breakfast buffet would run from 7:30 AM to 10:30 AM. Since there was a long line, a few of us asked again, "Until what time is breakfast available?" "Until 10:30 AM," she repeated and that time was passed on down the line in a loud voice. This morning, I woke up late, took a shower, wore my old stinky clothes and sauntered over to the breakfast place at about 10 AM. As I asked about a place to sit down, the waitress said, "you know, we close at 10 AM - we're just clearing away the food." I told her that we were told 10:30 AM and she said that the lady (who we later found out had worked at this Holiday Inn for ages) at registration was mistaken. The waitress was kind enough to bring the food back (there were a few others who wandered in after me) for which she earned a $5 tip from me. So, I got some breakfast and headed back to the room to type up this ridiculously long post. But, I need this reminder for my complaint letter to Delta!

The adventure is not over yet. Who was it who said something like "Getting there is half the fun?"

UPDATE: I wandered out of the room at about 1:40 PM to get some lunch before the 2:30 coach and found most of my co-passengers out in the lobby with their bags. They said that the coach was already there and planning to leave at 2 PM for the airport (they *did* say 2:15 OR 2:30 when we were dropped off). So, I went back to the room, wrapped up and we were brought to the airport at 2:30 PM. It's deja vu all over again. I'm in the Delta Skyclub waiting for the 6:15 PM flight ...

The adventure begins ... earlier than planned

Yes, I'm supposed to be in the air now. But, about 30 minutes before our departure time (at around 6:30 PM), we were told that there is a computer glitch on the aircraft and that a new part will have to arrive from Atlanta to fix it. Our scheduled departure is now 11:00 PM.

Interestingly, five minutes after this annonucement, they announced that they're going to shut down all power to the plane and then bring the power back online for the computer system to see if a complete system reboot fixes the computer. Don't tell me that the latest Boeing 767-400 runs on Windows Vista!

So, here I am in the Delta SkyClub adding to my blog and watching time go by real slow ...

UPDATE: It is now 11:40 PM and they still are not boarding the aircraft. The Board still shows expected departure at 11:45 PM. Let's see ...

UPDATE 2: It is now almost 1 AM and there is still no sign of departure. Hey, but they updated the Board to show a 1 AM departure instead of 11:45. If the flight had left on time, we would be a bit over an hour from landing at Heathrow. Hope they don't cancel the flight.

UPDATE 3: It is now 3:30 AM. They told us at about 1:30 PM that the flight was canceled. Finally just got checked in to the Holiday Inn and came to my room. The rescheduled flight is at 6:15 PM. More tomorrow after some rest ...