' a couple of days ago. It's causing chaos, needless to say. Taking some commuters an extra three hours to get across at peak times. Never mind, we think, the worst will be over by the time we set out and, sure enough, it is. We get across in about twenty minutes. We get to Plymouth in good time. We don't have to get to the airport until about five o'clock, so we plan to have a last looking around all the pilgrim historical sites but, as we arrive, the clouds are looking ominous and pretty soon it is drizzling with bad intent.
We nip back to the car and put our waterproofs on just in time. The rain is getting serious now, but we are determined to have a look around. We are torn between seeing things and not wanting to get soaked before the flight home. Tricky.
By the time we get to the replica of The Mayflower the rain has almost stopped. We debate whether it is worth paying to have a closer look at the ship and decide to cough up as we have plenty of hours to kill. It wasn't cheap and we finished it in about 30 minutes tops. Hmm. We could have gone on a guided tour but fdecided that people dressed in costumes talking a version of olde Englishe to be a tad corny so gave it a miss. There you go. There were some others in 'costume' and, eventually, we realised that these are genuine Amish people here as tourists just like every one else. The highlight of our day, really.
We then walk to Plymouth Rock. Well, part of it. The rest has gone. Not sure where. Souvenirs? This is all that's left of where the Mayflower landed back in the day. It's raining so hard now that we have no alternative but to have some lunch and hope it stops soon. It doesn't. We take a slow drive up and down the streets of Plymouth to see some of the historic buildings. Many other folk are doing the same. Then we decide to cut our losses and get to the airport earlier than planned. At least, that way, we'll have time to drop off the car and check-in in good time and get some decent seats for the flight home.
We are slightly dreading this drive into Boston. But we follow the R3 to the Interstate 93 and then, by simply dis-engaging brain and following the signs for Logan Airport, and after several leaps of faith that take us under the city and over many looping parabolicas, we pop back out into the rain in the middle of Logan Airport. Amazing. The hire companies are well signposted and we drop the Prius off in good time. A short shuttle bus ride later we are outside Terminal E about four hours prior to take off.
Here Vicky is doing some last minute 'shuffling' of bag contents to get through the latest security checks. We get crap seats (almost literally) next to the bogs. We are not happy. Virgin won't let us change them unless we pay $50 each for the privilege. Whatever happened to them keeping 20% back for up to two hours before take-off, as with the outward flight?
We don't pay the $100 and so we have a predictably crap flight. Cramped. More so than on the way out and it's a night flight. The cabin crew are clumsy and incompetent. At one point, just as we had got to sleep, we were tapped on the shoulder and asked if we had 'ordered a handbag?' Gawd. Other incidents pissed us off, but we can't be bothered to detail them now. Suffice to say it was one of our worst three flights of all time. Not what we expected from Virgin Atlantic whom we have flown with twice before without a problem.
Then when the endless flight finally lands, taxis slowly to the Terminal, and we all file slowly off in that despondent way, the queues for immigration are even longer than the ones to get into the USA. There's our flight, one from Thailand, and at least two others. It takes over an hour to get through. We are tired and grumpy and we've still got to drive home.
We collect our baggage and stagger though customs. We 'phone the company who parked our car and they say they'll be twenty minutes (they are quicker). We are so tired we can't get our bearings. We leave Terminal 3 by the wrong exit and have 'a discussion' about which direction we should stagger. Vicky wins, which is a good thing, 'cos we'd have been heading for Terminal 2 if we'd done what David said. Our car arrives and we load it up and get going. We have been in this soddin' airport for over two hours now.
We swap over at Oxford Services on the M40. Vicky drives and David falls asleep. He wakes up somewhere near Redditch. He's never fallen asleep in our car before, he says. Vicky is wide-eyed and trying to stay awake at the wheel. We get home safely and go to bed.
So, not the best end to what has been a pretty good holiday. A great holiday in parts but overall, only a good one. If we go back, and we might, we wouldn't bother with Cape Cod. Boston, yes. Then New Hampshire with Maine and Vermont to boot, if poss. Still, we've been and that's the main thing. The whalewatching made everything worthwhile and the day at the New Hampshire Speedway/Shaker Village was pretty darn good as well. Whilst the White Mountains were an unexpected delight. Oh, and we won't be using Virgin Holidays next time either. Their Rep never did contact us. We'll do it ourselves or use Trailfinders.
Four Stars, then (out of five).
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