We finished up the packing, re-weighed the cases, re-jigged the packing, weighed the cases again, and then had a quick run though the cottage to make sure all was as we'd found it. The cases had gained weight thanks to wash bags and dirty laundry, but we were still underweight on all of them, which was a relief.
The car loaded, we waved goodbye to Little Orchard and set off down the lanes the last time, at least for this trip. We'd not had breakfast so that we didn't dirty any clean crockery, and stopped at the Haldon service centre on the A38, just opposite the racecourse where my dad had been an occasional steward, or marshal, or something. It's not a full-on motorway service station so the prices weren't too scary, but we hit Greggs Bakery for some crumbly fare, and a drink. Then it was north along the A38 to Exeter, M5 to Bristol, and M4 to London.
I'm always banging on about the differences in driving styles between here and Canada, and this busy Friday morning highlighted them. Traffic on the motorway was moving largely below the speed limit, because it was busy, and because speed limits in the UK are rigidly enforced. Average speed cameras, fixed cameras, and Police patrols operate everywhere. I'm sure that Ontarians would say that was a hindrance to personal freedom, but the already low traffic fatalities in the UK have been dropping, and dropping further still, since the enforcement was applied. In these current times, a saving on fuel, almost twice the price in the UK as it is in Canada, is also uppermost in people's minds. Whatever the reasons, it's reasonably relaxing to drive when the road isn't being treated like a race track.
It was slow around Bristol, as anticipated, and as we headed west along the M4, we called in at Leigh Delamare Services for a P&T stop (pee and tea for the uninitiated). It's not the most inviting place, but the range of shops and eating places puts the 400 series service centres in Ontario to shame. Lunch was taken, at a price of course, then we were ready for the run into London. I set the navigation system to locate a petrol station close to the airport as I'd need to fill up before returning the car, but before leaving the service station, I noticed that the cost of petrol was fully thirty pence more per litre as it was at the Haldon service centre we stopped at earlier. Seriously, where's the justification for that?
Heathrow Airport is on the west side of the city so we didn't need to go much beyond the M25 orbital motorway before we turned off and found the petrol station. I was right, it was a thirty pence per litre difference in the price. I knew it would be wise to use the navigation system to get to Terminal 5, and so it proved as the roads around the airport are labyrinthine. When we'd located the Sofitel Hotel, the car's drop off point and our bed for the night, I was very pleased to remember how to get to the car rental drop-off area, as it required a complete circuit of the hotel and a sharp right into the parking area. Sixt has a damage camera system; you drive through a lighted tunnel that is equipped with many cameras, then you drive though another one when you arrive back, and their system compares the images. Our car was unmarked, if a little mud-caked.
Having dropped the keys at the office, all that remained was for us to stagger off to the hotel with our cases, about twenty yards away, and check-in. Before we'd got there, I had a text from Sixt to say the car was fine, and minutes later an invoice. We'd been dicked for GPB12 for a three hour late return, but it was that or another day's rental, so I was happy enough. The bill was about twice what I'd originally estimated, but we did fall into the up-selling trap when we'd arrived so that's on us.
Checking into the hotel was easy enough, and we spoke to a very nice Canadian receptionist who I hope we didn't make too homesick. The rooms at the Sofitel are not cheap, but they are well appointed, and our nice Canadian at the desk told us we'd been upgraded to a better room, at no extra cost. A slightly bigger room with a small complimentary mini-bar and a coffee maker - small things but welcome.
An hour or two of lazing around not doing much was followed by a pricey meal in one of the hotel's restaurants, and a walk around the departures hall of the airport terminal, a short walk through some long passages from the hotel. Back in the restaurant, the hotel added a "discretionary" 12.5% service charge to the bill. Discretionary in that if you didn't want to pay it had to tell them so, which is a bit chintzy. We'd have paid about that in a tip, so we left it on the bill, but it didn't stop one of the serving people lingering for another tip. I'm always happy to pay for service, but not twice.
We both crashed quite early, happy that we'd not have a journey to the airport immediately before the flight, although I did set my alarm just in case I overslept. The flight was at 1140 the next day, but that meant being at the airport at least two hours before, so getting up, washed, and finally packed, was always going to a rush. At least I'd already checked in online, so it was just about dropping our bags off when we arrived in the terminal. It's all about easing our way, and the Sofitel certainly did that.
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