Queue for a song

Though in fact a song was just about the only thing we didn't have to queue for. Heathrow passport control, security, and more security, boarding. Disembarcation, Newark immigration. The children were amazingly stoical, although at passport control in Newark the little Boy kept sinking to the ground weeping silent tears of exhaustion and regretting ever having left Linton (it was 3 in the morning BST).

We missed our onward flight to Albany. This was actually quite a relief for me as I'd been close to throwing up during our bumpy descent into the US (not helped by the Girl cheerfully exclaiming 'I like all this swaying! Isn't the swaying fun!' etc etc) and couldn't really face jumping straight onto another plane. Instead Virgin put us up in a nice hotel, we swam in the morning and ate a good breakfast (there's no breakfast like an American breakfast), and made a brief trip into New York City (and I'll skate over the hours spent in the Kafkaesque hell that is Newark Liberty Airport, trying to reconfirm our flight and doing a bit more queueing).

Finally, only 24 hours late, we boarded the small plane to our new home city (only after we'd ALL been specially selected for frisking. I suppose there really are people who would pack their 5 year old with explosives before flying, but I hate to dwell on the thought). The Boy was already asleep in the departure lounge, and the Girl soon was too, which was perhaps just as well since we flew through storms most of the way and bounced around like peas on a drum. Next day the Boy greeted me with 'So we didn't catch another plane after all' - he'd blissfully missed the entire journey.

A friend met us at Albany 'International' (occasional flights to Montreal) Airport, and took us to our temporary new house, showed us how to operate the garage doors and mentioned casually that his wife had left us a few provisions - actually enough food to last us through a siege, even taking the fusspot Boy's dietary requirements into account. For which, heartfelt thanks.

And so our first full day as Albanians began, and was mostly spent getting lost in the echoey acres of the rented house, which is only part furnished to make room for a 1000 cu ft of rubbish which for some reason we are shipping over from the UK and should arrive in about 6 weeks, if it doesn't get impounded by US Customs looking for foot-and-mouth-carrying soil deposits on garden furniture. By the way, the container, here shown obstructing a well-known Linton bus stop, is in fact less than half full.

The sun is shining, the trees are leafy. People are friendly. So far so good.