Three things were interesting on the way to Wales:
1) We took four different routes for eight people. We all ended up together in Newark at various times in various ways, but we left New Jersey together for the six and one-half hour flight to Bristol, England. The plane to Bristol was large, spacious, and uncrowded. We had plenty of room for sleeping which everyone was able to do a lot -- except for Allen.
2) Jaime Howell is a Ninja when it comes to working the airlines for free stuff. I personally saw her board two different planes, only to get off and negotiate the airlines for lots of money in future travel vouchers, a first class upgrade to New Jersey, and even a free taxi cab ride across New York City. Wow, I want to be like her when I grow up!
3) Allen sustained a reasonably serious head injury in the Newark airport. According to his account, five sword-wielding Ninjas attacked him and he had to take them all out, but they got in a lucky slash on top his skull. Deedee's version is less credible: he rammed his head into the sharp metal edge of a series of TV monitors while trying to keep a coat from falling to the dirty floor. Either way, there was a 2-3 inch gash, lots of blood, a couple of paramedics, a couple of New Jersey cops, various airport authorities, and a good deal of comic one-liners (delivered mainly by Allen). The paramedic told Allen he would not make his flight to Wales if he had to get stitches. So Allen and the paramedic agreed that Allen did not need stitches. Deedee was extremely skeptical of this shoddy medical diagnosis, pointing out the depth of the gash, but she was overrruled. So Deedee ended up buying a New Your Yankees baseball cap for Allen to keep a pressure on the gauze on his wound. Other than that little incident, Newark airport was pretty tame.
Everything in Britain went off flawlessly. Disembarking from the airport, going through customs, getting luggage, and meeting the coach service all went as easily as a greased monkey on wheels. Then the team went to the fabulous Tintern Abbey just inside the Welsh border where we had a hearty (meaning heart-clogging) British breakfast (prayed over eloquently by Jonathan Wyckoff) and spent an hour in awe surveying this glorious 12th-Century monastery demonstrating the grandness of Christian experience in the past history of Wales. Zack Deck turned out to be a photographer in the most artistic sense of the word. We spent as much time watching how he took pictures as we did admiring the ancient Gothic architecture.
We went to the Etap Hotel in Cardiff where we rested and refreshed oursleves before meeting up with our missionary friend Troy Blankenship and eventually his wife Cheryl and their two lovely daughters. Troy gave us a walking and public bus tour of many key spots in Cardiff, including Bute Town where four of our team are going to be meeting with people this week. We also toured the trendy Bay area and the downtown shopping district.
Deedee got to know Cheryl Blankenship better and most of the team got to hang out in Treadfgerville church as two different services came to an end. Nate Byford seemed particularly wide-eyed in wonder on his first ever day across the pond.
We dined at a Middle Eastern restaraunt where the focus was Iranian mint tea (along with the cubes of sugar we put into our mouths through which the tea flowed into our tummies), and Naan bread, which is like giant semi-crunchy pita bread sopapillas. Good times.
We had a brief meeting back a the hotel, figuring out of whom the two teams would be comprised. A few of us dabbled on the internet but then we all went blissfully unconscious.
I (Allen) am running on adrenalin and Tylenol, so I am not even going to attempt to proofread this letter -- a highly unusual event for me. I have not slept more than 2-3 hours in 2 1/2 days.
What will the Lord bring us tomorrow?
Stay tuned, dear friends.
Allen
No comments:
Post a Comment