Caviar, Champagne and Cattle Class...

I spent some time on the phone the other day to United Airlines and Air Canada, to discover that of the 5 hours we have in LA on the way in, we'll spend about 3 hours in immigration queues and customs.

It's 7 years since we've been over there, so I'd somehow forgotten that aspect! Therefore we can forget that hair-brained idea that it would be worth getting any Club Lounge access. So much for the proposed wisdom of my MiL, in this instance.

But we have a cunning new plan. Once we eventually get inside the terminal, there's a Russian Caviar and Champagne bar called Petrossian, which is exactly where we'll go for a caviar and creme fraiche  blini. While sipping on a Champers may seem extravagant at 10am in the morning, we reckon it will be just what we need come the time.

Once that consumption break is complete, we'll head over to the Air Canada part of the Terminal, in readiness for the next 5.5 hours of flight.

Thankfully we are sitting together on 8 of our 9 flights, but have discovered that from Newark, New York, to Charleston, South Carolina, we're separated and scattered. That would be fine if were all adults, but given our daughter is only twelve, we're really hoping United can sort this out for us when we get into Newark. They really should have a separate category for kids under 18, called 'teens', even if it's still at the same price point as adults. Having only flown internationally with our girl twice, I've not encountered these challenges before.  She was one when we took her to New Zealand and nine when we went to Hong Kong, and officially a child, so it wasn't an issue at the time.

The joys of cattle-class. Our dear girl had heard us talk of cattle class, and for some reason had decided we're not part of that, and that instead we're in some intermediate class she called 'standard'. Sadly I had to explain that this is not the case. None-the-less, she remains greatly excited, as indeed she should be! We all should be. And I really should start packing... I have a power converter in hand, and my empty old suitcase out, and that's about as far as I've got with packing.

Our 12 year old's luggage is rather splendid.

I collect our House Sitters from Ballarat Central Railway Station at Midday Saturday, so best I get cracking with the packing. I have 42 hours left, minus 16 sleeping time, and minus 8 hours work time, etc., etc. It's not a lot. Weird to think I used to do this all the time. For 15 years I travelled constantly with work, but I'm completely out of the habit these days. Sigh.

My suitcase is terribly old and tattered. However, for Christmas just past I bought our daughter this vibrant set of 'American Tourister' cases. I figured she'll use them a lot for school camps and family holidays, so well worth the spend. And she was totally over her little girl's pink case. We'll have no trouble spotting her luggage when it emerges on the carousel. One thing I need to break to her though, is that they will not look this shiny and unblemished once they've been hurled about on nine international flights! That's for sure.