Philly Guavas ...

So I am currently on my first flight to Philadelphia, although apparently no one calls it that (according to the “I”, has anyone heard of this paper?), I have to overcome my fear of sounding a bit to American hip and called it Philly.

After getting my knickers in a twist this morning with the idea that now suddenly because I have a boyfriend I am apparently unable to deal with small tasks such as carrying my bag down the stairs at Brixton station on my own, asking my boyfriend to abandon all work commitments to accompany me (there is a lift and I always knew that but my some what ‘weird’ boyfriend seems to think the Brixton lift is a crack den?! I shared it myself with an elderly businessman, I appreciate this could still involve crack, but it didn’t). I have previously been far more interested in the idea of lone travelling than having a travelling buddy, previously travelling across the US on a train or around Europe with a tent, much to the shock of my parents, that a girl from a private school in Berkshire could separate herself from her organic muesli and honey. Strangely German beer was working well for me until I got bronchitis and had to be escorted through Venice in a horse drawn cart to the hospital…. (So maybe I am more of a private school girl than I’m willing to admit)

Anyway rush hour London tubes (the underground to all non British) dealt with, with surprising amount of lifts available I make it to Heathrow Terminal 1. Oh and my bag is actually so light I casually can lift it with one hand it appears.

My flight appears to not contain very many tourists…. Clearly they are missing what I have just read in the personalised “I” paper for American travellers the ‘International Culture hub’ that is Philly? So far my excitement in regards to Philly have been, is the airport in West Philadelphia…because that would be cool, even if I wasn’t born and raised (think about it, yes unfortunately that is pretty much my only Philadelphia reference), and will the restaurant suggested to me at Philadelphia airport called Guava and Java fulfil my constant life long dream of fresh pink guavas washed down with a pint of fresh (Rubicon doesn’t count) pint of guava juice, and if this does happen where will I stay if I miss my flight ( strangely enough instead of originally writing ‘flight’ I wrote ‘life’ …..My psychotherapist self doesn’t think so strange) Maybe they have churros in Philly… anyway for someone with so little self-proclaimed excitement I seem to have masses. FYI I will be there for two hours where I will have to collect my luggage take it through customs and then re check it in, old school style.

Last night I felt genuinely terrified at my sheer brilliance in organisation and packing I was unnerved to find myself washing the toothpaste marks off my toiletry bag to cellotaping my toiletries up so they don’t leak and placing it alongside my small travel essentials bag and of course my travel bands…

Good thing I packed my headphones too as apparently on US airways you have to buy a pair if you fancy watching anything, I’m not sure how I feel about that, this lunch better be good.

And yes before we get ahead of ourselves yes I am currently sitting on board my flight, with my mac, my water, my book, in my comfy attire with travel bands on full display. If someone asked me how exactly travel bands work, I would probably mumble something about pressure points and then boldly state they always help me…however I have no idea if they do work or how the work or even why the work and feel a bit like one of those poor sickly children whose mother fusses over them with inhalers, emergency medicines, probiotics, and now some kind of new age travel bands (I have all of those things) is this going to far, or have I become anxious over anxiety.

Nevertheless I have worn my travel bands before, on a ferry not on a plane, I didn’t get sick on the ferry and as my family can adhere to that’s pretty miraculous…nevertheless this is not why I wear the travel bands. I wear them because the first time I ever put them on, on a ferry to Holland, they felt so weird and I felt so weird that that I laughed so uncontrollably my boyfriend had to help me take them off. Unfortunately that have never again filled me such level of euphoria or even a mere giggle, but I live in hope. As a result I continue embrace the embarrassment of looking like a neurotic traveller for now.  Because I will look a lot saner when I wear travel bands and laugh hysterically whilst alone…(John that’s a joke). Ok now I am actually starting to laugh.

( I went through the seven concourse airport in search of Guava and Java only to find they had no guavas or guava juice, and I am not exactly sure what java is, other than some secret code language, but they didnt look like they had that either. )