The Archive

Snow business

Well, it's all calmed down a bit now I'm in Baraboo. This is largely because there is nothing to do here, which I think is just what I need for a bit after yesterday, the longest day in the world.

Quite literally. Crossing the international date line meant that even though I left on Sunday afternoon, I arrived early on the previous Wednesday. Or is it next Tuesday?

I forget, the main thing is it was bloody confusing, what with the jet lag and the lingering soreness from my internal cavity search (don't worry, it was optional, but I've always been curious).

In fact, in answer to your questions, it turns out that I had a couple of issues.

Firstly I apparently overstayed my visa back in 1996. I'm pretty sure I didn't, but I also pointed out that it was ten years ago and I was coming to the US quite a lot at the time so couldn't remember. Amazingly, they accepted this answer.

The other problem was that, ironically, it seems I still have resident status but have been coming in on a visa waiver that I didn't need. This was cocking up their systems. Consequently, I had to give up my resident status and become a proper tourist, and that's what took all the time.

Still, at least they gave me coffee and a sandwich, which is more than American Airways managed.

After all the confusion and finally finding a hotel at 2am in Madison, I was woken the next day by a phone call. It went something like this.

"Hello, it's your Dad."
"Hi Dad."
"So, where are you now?"
silence.
"Are you in Sydney"
I look around the room. There's snow on the window sill.
"I don't think so Dad."
"So where are you."
Still looking around the room. Nothing is familiar. I have no idea where I am.
Long silence. Then it comes back to me.
"Oh, America."
"That's nice," replies dad, sounding distinctly worried and hanging up as quickly as possible.

So it's official, I neither know where or when I am any more.

It's given me a new sympathy for rock stars that are constantly on tour.

"Hello..." (checks scrap of paper) "Erm, Frankfurt. It's great to be here. We've always loved the Dutch people."

Fortunately this day was much better than the epic disaster of yesterday. Except for one thing.

When are the Americans going to learn that A DOUGHNUT IS NOT BREAKFAST!?

Come on folks, you're supposed to be the leaders of the world. Your technology is second to none. Is it really that hard to scramble me an egg or give me something other than a dessert with which to start my day? Ugh, you people.

Fortunately I managed to recover from the disappointment with a lovely lunch at Hooters (motto Delightfully tacky, yet unrefined). Here I was stricken with politeness and made every effort not to stare at the breasts of the perfectly formed woman who was my waitress, despite the obvious fact that they were precisely the reason I chose to go to a restaurant called Hooters in the first place.

Sometimes it's crap being English.

Even better, I managed to catch up with Bungalow Bill before he disappeared on a business trip, which was great. And I got Ringmaster Dave to come and pick me up and take me off to lovely Baraboo.

Lovely in the sense of 'small and boring' that is.

Still, it's the people that count, so here I am catching up with a bunch of old circus chums.

So best not to expect too much in the way of shennanigans and adventures until Thursday. But keep tuning in, I'll try to keep you entertained.

Thanks for playing. See you tomorrow.

posted by Peter The Great @ 5:27 PM