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Tuesday
Nov302010

A Weekend of Thanks- The Journey out to SoCal

Every fourth Thursday in November in the US, the country stops to eat. And by eat, I mean GORGE themselves on food! Traditionally though, it's a specific kind of food, or rather, a specific bird: The Turkey.

My second Thanksgiving in the US was another fantastic experience of family get togethers, home cooking, and a great weekend just to sit back, relax and give thanks for all the things we have in the world, but especially, thanks for having each other.

But first, we had to get to our holiday destination, along with millions of others who travel to family or friends housing for the occasion.

The long weekend began on Wednesday, with Nicole and I thanking my work colleague for driving us to the airport to catch a flight "home" to California. Away from the cold, wintry weather of Wisconsin, and across the country to the sun, sea and sand of Southern California.

And it was really that simple.

Milwaukee airport is such a great airport, nice and small but with a good number of reasonably priced flights to a large variety of places. We took a Southwest flight, to the south west of the US, which is a great airline as you can check two bags completely free of charge! Despite this however, for the first time in our lives we travelled incredibly light, and only took carry on bags, so we didn't need to wait in line at the check-in desk. Being Thanksgiving, we were expecting lines at the airport both to check in and to get through security. However, we sailed right on through, including the line for security, which was non-existent. There was literally not a single person in front or behind of us when we went through the rigorous, but now monotonous routine of loading bags onto the conveyor belt, laptops out, shoes off, belt off and pockets checked for anything that might cause a beeping noise and result in irksome looks from TSA staff. It was so quiet, we could take our time unloading everything and putting everything back on; even the TSA lady who checks your boarding cards joked about how busy it was.

We had heard that Milwaukee had the new airport scanners, which x-ray your body and create an image of it on a computer screen which leaves little to the imagination. Though we have had these for a while in England now (I went through them in Manchester) there has been uproar in the US recently about the privacy these scanners offer to travellers, and the alternative option of a very intense hand pat down. Despite the concern for safe air travel, there have been calls for these security procedures to be reviewed, with a number of protesters calling for travellers to refuse the scanner and cause big delays at airports. Personally, I don't see what all the fuss is about. Our imaginations can create just as, if not more detailed images, and the images are merely outlines, with faces blurred, and are viewed by someone who doesn't even see the real you. If it makes travelling safer, speeds up the line at security, and means I don't have to take my belt and shoes off, then I am all for it. And the pat downs? Well either just go through the scanner, or sit back, relax, and enjoy the feel of a stranger's hands roaming over you. Try to look on the bright side!

Though I was expecting a nice little dose of radiation, or at the very least a soothing massage, I was very disappointed; the promised new scanners were turned off in Milwaukee, and on our return flight from LAX (we had to wait in line here at security, but the airport was still surprisingly quiet, both flying in and out) the scanners were nowhere in sight.

Having enjoyed a nice un-rushed experience through security, Nicole and I, after debating the various overpriced food options in the terminal, opted to get some sustenance for the flights (we had to change planes) at the classic all-American diner- Johnny Rockets. Though I am sure it is entirely unauthentic, it does make me wish I could have seen American diners in their heyday in the 1950's, just like in Grease, or Back to the Future. Johnny Rockets does a reasonable job, but I think there is a market out there for more classic diners, with burgers, fries and shakes galore at customer friendly prices.

After a fulfilling Philly Cheese-steak, we began the "pre-boarding process" for Southwest, which basically means we stood in the right location, as dictated by the letter and number on our boarding card. Like the cheaper European carries, Southwest doesn't assign seating numbers, but instead (in a more civilised way than EasyJet or Ryanair) assigns passengers a specific spot to board the plane, based on how early you check in. So, the early bird catches the worm, as those who check in 24 hours in advance get the A1-10 slot, which ensures them either seats at the front of the plane so as to be first off, or seats in the exit rows for that little extra legroom. Personally, as long I get an overhead slot for my bag, I don't care where I sit, as long as it is next to someone who put on deodorant that morning.

With a headlong wind heading towards Nevada, we arrived in Las Vegas a little late, having experienced a reasonable amount of turbulence (that's why I spilt water down your back Nicole! Honest!). We thought we might have had to run for our connection, but it was only two gates down. Instead we got to spend time admiring all the slots machines, which greet Vegas visitors before they have even left the airport. The city of gambling and sin looks great from the air at night, with the strip all lit up, pyramids glowing and hotels shimmering. If only you could hear the sound of coins falling, cheers erupting and money being wasted.

Minus x-rayed images of ourselves, we arrived late Wednesday night back in the OC, and at Nicole's Grandma's house.  After a good night's sleep, the preparations began, the smell of food spread through the house, and the eating commenced....

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