THE TAXI MADE remarkable time to the Frankfurt Airport, and I got there several hours in advance as planned. Before getting married, I had been a very sheep-like traveler, doing what I was told, sitting where I was supposed to, and never asking for anything I didn’t absolutely need.  Eighteen years of traveling with Mary Elizabeth however had opened my eyes to a whole new world of travel possibilities – available to the voyager who was willing to be a little more assertive.  There was a fine line between being assertive and being pushy, and overall we were pretty skilled at getting what we wanted without alienating anybody.

I arrived at the airport with the intention of getting myself on an earlier flight with a minimum of fuss.  Our strategy had always been to get through security, get to the gate of the flight on which we wanted to fly, and hang out.  The Germans had other ideas.  The social engineers at Frankfurt had come up with a multi-stage ticketing-security-boarding process, which included holding passengers outside security, until the gate was called at which point, you would proceed to the security checkpoint closest to the gate, breeze through and board your flight.

This might have defeated my plan to get through early and hang-out at the gate – but I managed to see where the other flights to London City Airport were leaving from and head there.  When I presented myself at the gate asking to fly standby, the attendant was bewildered that I would want to get on an earlier flight.  “This is simply not done!” he exclaimed as if I had asked him to perform some highly illegal and morally questionable act. So I retreated to the seats and waited for the following London flight on which I had been legitimately ticketed.  Unfortunately, Mary Elizabeth and Charlotte were already enroute from New York and were therefore off the email grid.  I exchanged a few emails with my friend Ellinor with whom we were planning on having dinner the next week in London, and bought some chocolates while waiting.  I finally boarded and after a short jump across Belgium and the English Channel, we arrived in one piece, on-time at London’s City Airport, a smaller facility located within 15 minutes of Canary Wharf, which is where we were staying for the week.  Before landing, the plane circled a few times over central London before landing at City affording a bird’s eye view of all the major landmarks.  The Houses of Parliament were lit up and of course the London Eye stood out with its evening light show.  The flight itself was only about an hour, and I made it through with no delays and within minutes of deplaning was in our hotel room, getting out of my suit and into casual clothes.

Because we were staying a week, I was able to get a one-bedroom suite at one of the business hotels which served Canary Wharf, the new financial center of London.  The room was on the 10th floor with windows looking North and East, giving views of the 2012 Olympic Stadium under construction to the north, and the O2 arena and office buildings of Canary Wharf to the east, and a bit of the city to the west. I was psyched for Mary Elizabeth and Charlotte to see the room which in addition to a living room, featured a full kitchen.  They had thoughtfully provided a basket of goodies and breakfast foods which would come in handy for what would be a busy week.

Go to next chapter: Prisoner of Wharf