(On the Way to) California: Heathrow

My flight to San Francisco was through London, and I was surprised how much I found myself wishing I could stay on and have a little time in England. I've totally become an Anglophile without meaning to. When did that happen?

I'd only been in the country about 10 minutes before I witnessed a traveler commit that legendary Greatest of All British Offenses: queue-jumping. (That's "cutting in line" to the Americans.)

Supposedly this is one of the very few ways you can actually rile the famously mild-mannered British, and indeed, the airport employee who called back the offender (a man trying to jump ahead in the line to go through security) with a sharp "Sir, there's a queue here!" seemed truly angry about it. Heh. Another stereotype confirmed.

I wandered around the airport, stupidly pleased by all the British shops selling British things (I was sleep-deprived, okay, I'm allowed to be happy about dumb, small things...) Britain is just awfully nice.

Good thing the next English countryside hiking trip is already in the works for next year!