Heathrow Airport = NO! Not again. I’ll pay extra money to avoid that airport.
An hour and a half layover between planes and we still ended up running for the gate at the last minute. The bus between terminals was 20 minutes. I’m pretty sure Terminal 3 is in a completely different town. X-rays are handled by one woman who was just released from the Gulag and likes to scream at everyone, “If you are not ready with your bag, you WILL miss your flight!” Even though we were about 25 people back in line, x-rays took one hour.
Finally we ran for the gate only to be stopped by security one more time. Just when I thought everything was good, my oldest son has to ask loudly, “What’s a suicide bomber?”
The man at the counter looked up, but luckily we saw a t.v. on a news channel reporting about that situation in another country so we could explain the odd question. But it didn’t help that his little brother chimed in singing, “Now we all must die! Now we all must die!”
Somehow they let us on the plane and we finally arrived after 8 hours in America – land of carpet everywhere! (Seriously, what’s up with all the carpet? Isn’t it hard to clean?)