Our trip actually began on May 10th (Mark’s 20th birthday). Cait and Mark both had returned from university (with their respective baggage and furniture) just days prior. There were lots of things to trip over and many loose ends to tie up, and we had to deliver Sasha the cat into the capable hands of our friend Gerry and get the minivan to off-airport parking. On the whole, everything went smoothly.
The flight itself was fine, as well, despite a detour to the north to avoid the worst of the volcanic ash. That detour extended the flight by a bit but, more interestingly, kept it from ever getting quite dark. It was as though we went from departure at dusk to arrival at dawn without ever seeing the sun set. Mark has already written some lyrics about that phenomenon.
No squalling babies, a decent movie selection, and even good food. The preferred chicken entree was snapped up before the crew got to us, at which time they apologized and provided vegetarian lasagna — which was delicious. And the flight attendants were top-notch. It left me favorably disposed to the folks at British Airways despite what happened on the return trip.