Day 176 - Las Vegas - 28th January, 2005

Julie went home today. We had always talked about her going home to see her Mum and Dad around Christmas time but since we were all together (with my brother and my Mum) in Texas, it did not seem like the right thing to do.

Then she heard the news about her dear friend's son Edd and she knew that she needed to be back in London.

It sort of came naturally on our route that we ended up in Las Vegas and this was the perfect place to get a reasonably priced return ticket. So with less than 3 days to go we clinched a deal that had her fly out at 2:00pm local time and arrive (via Chicago) the following morning. We didn't tell anyone even her Mum and Dad or her friend in London. Although after she had flown I e-mailed several people to let them know and there had been one family who knew of the details as she was going to stay with them.
At first the boys were like "OK great we can get up to Daddy tricks whilst Mum is away". This generally means, getting up late, eating out all the time, going to the pub and staying up late. The sort of thing boys do. But I assured them this would actually mean double home schooling lesson, strict discipline, no snacking during the day and burnt home cooked burgers for supper if you were lucky. This tempered their excitement somewhat.
At the point of departure Sammy was in tears and Julian was apparently (being the elder lass emotional son) non-plussed. There is no way of telling.

But I have to tell you the story of the bag. We arrived in Canada and had a tin trunk delivered to us from the UK. This contained all our winter clothes, Julie's big coat, boys games and some books. Packing up to leave Canada we managed to give away quite a bit and get everything into all our bags. We thought we would have a big sort out in Texas to determine what we actually wanted to carry in the RV and leave alot behind there.

In Texas, and by the time we had received some Christmas gifts, we ended up with one very large suitcase which contained or surplus items. Mainly books, clothes that were too small for the boys but that Julie wanted to give to someone in the UK. and souvenirs and scrap books we had made of our journey so far. We left it with my brother thinking that he may be able to bring it when he comes over to France later in the year or that we would simply have it shipped home.

When we discovered it weighed 92 pounds and would cost hundreds of dollars to send as freight we changed our minds. OK now Julie is going back virtually empty handed, lets get it sent to Las Vegas and she would be able to take it (re-packed into 2 bags) back to the UK for free. Very good idea. Call up my brother and he arranges for it to be shipped by Greyhound Express Packages from Fort Worth to Dallas. He delivers it to the Fort Worth bus depot on the morning of the 25th January.

Now it's Las Vegas and we arrive on the evening of the 26th. We tootle off to the downtown bus station. A place I distinctly remember spending quite some time in 30 years ago when I first visited. I hadn't changed much. It was still inhabited by people who really had no where else to go and a bunch of characters who were obviously marketing commodities not much in demand in our household.

The package express man said nothing had come in and that they have no other information to give other than they can confirm that it left Fort Worth on Tuesday morning. Being Wednesday evening and calculating that nearly 36 hours had elapsed since it had started it's journey which by car takes about 8 hours we were just a little alarmed. Not to worry intoned the clerk, it may well turn up on the next bus due to arrive at midnight. Somewhat jollied by his optimism, we took off back to the Vegas Strip to see if we could find any real life CSI. I was expecting to see bullets tearing through the hearts of cuckolded gay lovers in $1,000 per hour hotel rooms. None of it. We only saw 2 black guys being cuffed probably because they were too near the bus station.

The next day, first thing, we go back down to the bus station. We have a new clerk now. He wants my ID and the tracking number. Both of which I have. " I see" he says "it has left Fort Worth". Good, so where is it. Can't say for certain. A bag of that weight and size will always be bumped off the coach if it is full. Could be in Phoenix being transferred. Greyhound do not have a tracking system like UPS and DHL where you can track your little parcel as it travels around the world. (Have you ever ordered a computer from Dell? You can track it being made and tested, packed and dispatched - or so they say!). Greyhound basically have no idea where it might be. However, another bus was due in from Fort Worth at 11:30am.

So we trundle off still not sure anyone really knows or cares about our bag but encouraged to know that another Fort Worth bus in due in. We do some more fiddling about in Vegas and get back at midday. Same clerk. He insists again on seeing my ID (although he already saw it less than 2 and half hours ago and had perhaps had only 1 or 2 enquiries in that time) and typing all the information into the computer again to see if it has arrived. All of this I know is totally unnecessary. Since he is the only person in the whole building who has touched any delivered item to that depot, he would already know if any bags (especially one weighing 92 pounds) had arrived from Fort Worth. The whole parcel service operation is a very small part of their business and it takes only one person at each depot to operate.

The outcome again was that there was no bag. He gave me a list on numbers that I could call if I wanted to do anymore searching for it, including one for the Phoenix depot where it might be resting in between busses. It could come in on any bus coming from Fort Worth and there was another due in at around 3:00pm. So of we go again and by now we are making contingency plans for it's non-arrival by the time Julie is to fly.

We go back to the bus station again in the afternoon. Sammy is enjoying every moment of this as he usually ends up talking to someone. This someone is usually black, has got a great story to tell and has mannerisms and affectations that Sammy somehow seems attracted to. They usually end up giving each other a high five or some other form of deviant hand shake.

This time I park so I can see when the baggage clerk is actually on the counter and can ambush him when he least expects it. I spot him but it's an entirely different person. They have had a shift change and the young lady couldn't have been more helpful. "Why don't you come around the back and have a look yourself?" she asked me. I already knew that this would probably be unfruitful as I could see all of the 32 bags and parcels in the package express storage room from the counter and there had been no change in their arrangement or quantity now for over 18 hours. However, never missing an opportunity to see the inside workings of a great organisation, I followed her into the depths of the depot. I confirmed that indeed my bag was not already in the storage room and she also showed me that if wasn't in any unloading area. Still no bag. The lady informed me that it is usual for deliveries of this type to take 3 to 7 working days and that I should not be alarmed by it's non-arrival. "But you don't understand.." I began but did not finish. There was another Fort Worth bus due at 10:00 pm.

We devised a plan to come back. We had some supper at the camp ground (located just off the strip behind Circus Circus) and planned to go and see the Freemont Street lights. This is a covered shopping mall (type of thing as there are no real shops just Casinos) with has an arched ceiling extending for 2 or 3 football pitches in length. The ceiling contains millions of bulbs which are operated by a computer systems and can change colour. The effect is like a giant (very giant) plasma display only that everything has very blurry edges. I does work quite well particularly for the scenes of birds and fish flying and swimming back and forth. We would take the boys to see this and then return to the bus station.

We get there to find there has been another change of staff. This guy is very clear. We should ring the depot on Monday (5 days hence) to see if it has arrived. Ouch. But there is another bus coming in at midnight. We could try again in the morning. It's the only thing we can do.

We have by now (in case you were wondering) rung my brother (just to check he did do what he said he did in the e-mail he sent us), the Phoenix depot, the express parcel tracking service and all the other numbers we had been given. Most of which were not answered or were answered with "blah blah blah can you hold please" standard answer. Another way of saying "stop ringing me I'm busy you don't stand a chance". How do I know this? I was by now an expert in Greyhound Bus Depot operational procedures. There are only 2 people on duty at any one time; the express parcel person and the bus ticket selling person. Neither of whom had any operational spare capacity to answer phones. So in order that the customers who were in front of them didn't think they were ignoring the phones, they would answer them with that familiar blah blah greeting. I wasn't going to be fooled by this so I would never wait until they came back to me (I would have used all my phone credits), I just hung up on them right away.

So we went away again convinced now that the case would just have to be trundled around in our RV for the next 3 weeks. Julie prepared another bag with the items she wanted to take back home. There wasn't really much here as she only needed a few clothes for the 6 day trip. However, being the sort of person I am, I persuaded her and the boys to give up a few more possessions and extraneous items in the knowledge that we were about to receive 92 pounds of items we had already agreed to send home. So we packed up a few more things that we didn't need.

Tomorrow comes and we leave at 8:00am to go straight to the bus station. Julie flies out today at 2:25 pm and must check in 2 hours before her flight. The trip to the bus station has become such a regular trip for me that I can almost do it on automatic pilot. We get to the depot and discover no case. There is nothing to do but to take Julie to the airport and collect the case sometime over the next week. But wait, there is a bus due in from Fort Worth at 1:00 pm today. Is it possible? Could we do one more trip to the bus station before she goes?

Julie is not one for being late. Especially when she is traveling. And double especially as she is traveling on her own and by and large she hates traveling. So there is no chance that we could all be at the bus depot at 1:00 pm and have her checked in 2 hours before her 2:25pm flight. There is certainly no chance of this if she is to remain sane. The journey to the airport I estimate is 30 minutes. Don't even think about it.

But I hatched a plan. We left for the airport at around 11:30 am and got there at midday. I deposited Julie at a phone booth just beside the American check in desk. She was to ring me when she felt she needed to bail out and go and check in. I was to return to the bus depot and wait for the 1:00pm bus. She rang me with the phone number of the phone booth she was standing next to in case I had any news for her. We said our goodbyes. I thought that Julie, depending on the crowd situation, might hold out until 1:00 pm before she determined that she ought to check in. Maybe the bus would get in early, maybe she would hold out for longer. None of this made any differences if the bag was still not there.

So me and the boys said our goodbyes, left the airport and drove back to the bus depot. Sammy and I prayed that the bag would arrive. I was back there at about 12:30pm. I positioned the RV again so that I could see when the clerk was in the right position for attack. My moment came at around 12:45. There seemed to be an unusual amount of activity by the clerk, who I came now to identify as the one who asks for ID all the time. Sammy and I sprang into action. With my ID out and the tracking number in my hand, we caught him completely by surprise. I could see that the bag layout in the back storage room had changed so I knew something had come in for someone. He checked my ID again and typed in the tracking number.

BINGO. It had arrived!! Praises be. Now to get back to the airport. The clerk seemed to delight in having me fill in all the paperwork and made great exception to having to go and collect the bag that weighed 92 pounds. But by then I was probably having unkind thoughts. He was doing his job. Sammy raced back to the RV to get the mobile phone. I lumbered across the terminal concourse with that terrible feeling that you have just been saved only to be just thwarted. If the case had not arrived we could have dealt with that. We were prepared for it. But what happens if the case did arrive and we were unable to get it to Julie. That would be devastating. It was not going to happen.

Both boys immediately got the urgency of the situation and rallied to the cause. We manhandled the bag (it is the biggest suitcase in the world you know) into the back of the RV and set off. This is one of those circumstances where we should have done some planning. We had taken Julie to the airport rather leisurely along the strip. It is the most direct route but is always clogged and has at least 20 sets of lights that seem to take 5 minutes to change. This would not do. I thrust a local map into Julian's hand just as Julie answered the phone in the airport. I had the bag, it was 12:50 or so, hang on we will make it.

Julian started directing me towards Interstate 15 which seemed to run around the outside of Las Vegas and could lead to the airport if the correct turning was taken. I directed Sammy in the back of the RV to start un-packing the suitcase. No airline will take a bag over 70 pounds and I knew we would simply have to throw it at Julie at the other end. I told him to concentrate on the heavy stuff. By now the adrenalin was surging and 3 boys in Las Vegas had a mission.

There was stuff (in typical boy fashion) flying in all directions in the back of the RV. We were 5 minutes into our journey and still not clear of our route. Then Julian discovered that his door was open. The only way he could hold it shut was with both hands. In order for him to continue to issue directions, it was necessary for Sammy to hold the map in front of Julian's face. At about now, teacups started coming out of the cupboards. Luckily they were the bouncing type.

Now these RV things might have massive V10 engines but they certainly don't reach 60 very quickly. We were dodging in and out of lanes along the Interstate with Julian reading off the exits. Still not sure which one to take, I spotted a sign that said "Airport". Great, our route finding issue is solved except that as soon as you get off the direction signs disappear. We have had this problem time and time again. You just have to keep guessing. Our route finding issue just came alive again.

By now 1:00 pm had come and gone and we were stuck in local traffic (lights every couple of blocks) and were getting more desperate. Surely Julie would wait. I had to employ some very dubious highway manoeuvers to make any headway, including cutting across garage forecourts and cutting up unsuspecting drivers who usually see RVs being driven with the utmost caution. Afterall, who wants to break their tea cups?

The boys were having a whale of a time. This was true adventure. Indiana Jones himself would have been proud of us. They were hooting and holering and praying for every light to change. Banging their feet and urging me on in a way that only those who are completely ignorant of the laws or physics of driving can do.

It was good fun and we did make it. I was able to pull up exactly where I had dropped Julie off. She was able to make one or two decisions about stuff that should or shouldn't be included in the case and I was able (leaving the boys to guard the RV from patrolling traffic attendants) to check Julie in (no one at all was waiting at the check in desk - which is a miracle on it's own) and see here on here way. She didn't even seem that stressed. She had no idea what we had just been through.