We spent the whole of today getting to Denmark. We checked out of our hotel around 10 am and caught a cab to Heathrow. We did battle with the automatic machines, tagged our bags, got our boarding passes, dropped our baggage in, got through security, checked out the duty free shops, then had a coffee at our favourite Heathrow cafe, the Clockwork Knife.
Now I am not sure that it is actually called that (Jeanette’s note – it’s actually called The Perfectionists’ Cafe) but there is an amazing clockwork knife that whirs away over your head as you are drinking your coffee. While we were there the restaurant staff were furiously engaged in setting up a very long table for a very large party. We watched as all the hot food was put out but no people showed. We hung on as long as we could but still no people. By the time they finally made it the food would have been very cold.
Down in the main body of the departure hall, we admired the modern sculpture and played the old game of Heathrow roulette. They seem to only put departure gate numbers up at the very last minute. It’s okay if you get a Gate A one which is only 5 minutes away but if you get a Gate B one, that’s a 15 minute plus walk and you really have to motor. Fortunately we got Gate A.
So by the appointed hour of 2pm we were onboard our SAS flight ready to depart. All the world was looking rosy then disaster struck. On the inbound leg of the flight that we were taking out, there was a passenger who needed a wheelchair. There was a delay in getting the wheelchair to said passenger and the terminal staff let our flight head down the boarding ramp before the wheelchair bound passenger had cleared the ramp.
As a result of this technical breach of security cordon, after about 15 minutes deliberation by the relevant poobahs, the whole aircraft had to disembark with our cabin baggage and go through a full security checking again. Essentially we were tossed off the aircraft and left to our own resources. We ended up wandering down miles of corridors telling our sad story and begging directions from any half sentient offical we could find.
We finally wound up at the security checking area for transiting passengers. I am not sure if the staff here were on a work to rule go slow or this was the spot where people who were too slow to work on the normal security check were put but the pace here was absolutely glacial. It took us an hour and a half to get through all this nonsense and back on to the plane.
We finally made it to our hotel around 7:30 pm. Being Denmark, our room feels a bit like living in an IKEA showroom but it is comfortable and much more spacious than London.
Hardys’ Travels 