Sunday 6 August, 0500 British Summer Time, Pan American Flight 120, over the North Atlantic

This wasn't going to be the first time that Brian Ward and Casey Nelson had experienced jet lag. Although this time they weren't doing it on a C-141 Starlifter, nor wearing military uniform while doing so.

When they had taken off in this Boeing 747 at Los Angeles International Satellite 2, it had been just after noon on Saturday. Their body clocks were now telling them that it was nine o'clock in the evening, despite the fact that the sun was starting to rise outside their aircraft.

They had just over an hour to go in this flight, that would land at London's Heathrow Airport and discharge its UK-bound passengers into Terminal 3, before flying over the Channel to its final destination of Paris Orly.

Then they would have to go through British immigration, collect their luggage and then make their way to Central London. Fortunately, they would not have to navigate their way across one of the biggest cities in Europe in the early hours of a Sunday morning because the powers that be that decided a couple of decades back that a railway connection wasn't needed (although that was being rectified with a new 'Tube' line under construction).

Instead, they would be dropped near their London hotel with a special coach service that operated to the city centre terminal. Mind you, they would still need to occupy themselves until they could check in...

A ding from the intercom interrupted whatever thoughts they had been having.

"Good morning, ladies and gentlemen, this is your Captain speaking. We are about an hour from touching down at London Airport. Our lovely stewardesses will be coming through with landing cards for those who require them and will be provide you with refreshments at this time."

Brian Ward was not built for air travel.

Or more specifically perhaps, for commerical air travel.

He had endured the first long hours of their trans Atlantic journey with something approaching stoicism, but the constant pressure on his knees from the seat in front of him, the nagging confinement of the arm rests and awkward positioning of the head rest had all conspired to make him progressively more miserable.

He had tried to sleep, much to the frustration of the gentleman sitting behind him, as his freshly washed mane of blond hair had intruded somewhat into his neighbors space.

Now, so near to their destination as to cause a ripple if excitement to spread through the plane, he twiddled his thumbs in his lap and blew out a soft, long breath through pursed lips.

He took yet another glance out the window, having to angle himself slightly as he was seated next to the isle, and apologized softly when a cart bumped his shoulder from behind.

Not for the first time he contracted his whole form to the best of his ability to let the cart, and the stewardess pass and then gave a knowing look to his neighbor.

"Almost there..." It carried a tone of relief and encouragement. The twiddling turned to a brief drum solo on his lap to music only he could hear, his head bobbing up and down a few times before he repeated the words again with a smile. "Almost there..."

Almost...to the beginning. The beginning of a much, much longer journey that would certainly not feature complementary snacks or sardonic flight attendants.

"Someone told me it's all happening at the zoo
I do believe it I do believe it's true"

As the pitch of the engines told him they were beginning their descent, the words breathed from Casey's lips in something between a whisper and a hum, barely audible even to his own ears. Almost to England. He could have been there four weeks ago, except for his Dear Old Dad who insisted he had to see his son before he left the country this time.

And he went. He didn't have to. He already had his plane ticket and his traveler's check and all. And Rita, the English girl he'd met in San Francisco, hadn't wanted to change her plans and go back across the country. So they said their goodbyes in Nashville and Casey went home.

"It's a light and tumble journey From the East Side to the park
Just a fine and fancy ramble To the zoo."

He probably wouldn't have gone if Mom was still alive. He knew Dear Old Dad loved him but they'd never been close. D.O.D. expected a lot of his son and had been disappointed. And his son wasn't there when Mom died.

It was unexpected, quick, sudden at the end. D.O.D. wasn't the same when Casey finally got home, less rigid, less certain; it was that unexpected fragility that made him fly back to Sacramento and spend a couple weeks at his boyhood home.

"But you can take the crosstown bus If it's raining or it's cold
And the animals will love it if you do."

This visit was less awkward than he feared. No recriminations, no wise counsel, just quiet companionship. And when he finally had to go, along with the hearty handclasp, there was a surprise, an American Express gold card on D.O.D.'s account, "In case something unexpected comes up.

A commuter flight to LA and now he's almost to London. No time for the sightseeing he'd planned--the Tower, the British Museum, Buckingham Palace, London Bridge, etc, etc. Maybe side rips to Edinburgh and Dublin. Well,, there'll always be an England.

"The monkeys stand for honesty Giraffes are insincere
And the elephants are kindly but they're dumb
Orangutans are skeptical Of changes in their cages
And the zookeeper is very fond of rum
Zebras are reactionaries Antelopes are missionaries
Pigeons plot in secrecy And hamsters turn on frequently
What a gas, you gotta come and see At the zoo."
This message was last edited by the player at 21:37, Tue 15 June 2021.

The 747 began its descent, with the captain telling passengers to fasten their seatbelts and extinguish their cigarettes ahead of their landing.

They flew over the green and pleasant land of England, although in high summer, much of it was more yellow. The dark satanic mills of Sheffield's steel industry could be seen out of the left-hand windows as the Peak District passed underneath.

Soon they were travelling a slow clockwise loop over the Chilterns, waiting for ATC to give them clearance for final approach and landing. Excitable passengers looked out of the window to see the British capital in the distance. It was a very large urban area, extending out over 15 miles from the centre of the city and only checked by government mandate.

Five minutes passed and they were away on their final descent. Out of the window, a three-colour palette presented itself of grey, brown and green with the long strip of dark blue that was the River Thames. Some of the buildings were recognisable, others were not.

Then they turned right and levelled. The squeal of the gears coming down. The final descent. The ground rising up.

Sixteen tyres squealed as the Jumbo Jet touched down on Runway 27L, followed shortly by two more as the front wheel came down.

[OOC: The sort of stuff you would see: https://youtu.be/QbjNOVDx234. A B&W image of Heathrow from the east in 1971 can be found here; you've landed on the left runway and Terminal 3 is the section on the centre of the star furthest from the camera]

"This is your captain speaking. We have just touched down and are currently making our way to the gate at London Heathrow Terminal 3. Passengers should keep their seatbelts fastened and remain seated until the aircraft has come to a complete stop at the gate. The temperature outside is 68 degrees Fahrenheit with a forecast high of 80. Thank you for flying with Pan American Airlines and on behalf of the whole cabin crew, I wish you a pleasant onward journey."