Buses and More Buses.
New Aircraft, Old Friends
With less than an hour to transit Heathrow, get my luggage and myself on a coach, what are the chances I can make it without turning into a sweaty mess? And more importantly, will I make the coach?
In this Trip Report:
- Well, this year has been a pile of toilet so far
- Take the National Express, when your life is a mess, it will make you smile
- Heathrow Terminal 3 Lounges, featuring The Cathay Pacific and American Airlines Business Class Lounges
- AA087 London Heathrow to Chicago O’Hare – Main Cabin Extra
- Into the USA… and dealing with a Credit Card Fraud Call
- HOTEL: Holiday Inn/Staybridge Suites, Rosemont
- Airplane Art Extra from the Holiday Inn/Staybridge Suites, Rosemont
- HOTEL: Hyatt Regency O’Hare
- Airplane Art Extra from the Hyatt Regency O’Hare
- Playing with the Apple iPhone 17 Pro Camera around Chicago
- More Random Low-Effort Food Around Chicago
- Back to O’Hare Terminal 3
- American Airlines Flagship Lounge, H-K Lounge, Terminal 3
- BA296 Chicago O’Hare to London Heathrow, World Traveller Plus (Premium Economy)
- Buses and More Buses
- The Way Old Friends Do
Getting off the aircraft, I was mildly concerned. I had just under an hour on the clock left before my coach would go back to Birmingham. Considering the Boeing 787-10 was on a remote stand, I wasn’t hopeful I would make it, or, if I did, that it would be by the skin of my teeth.
Down we go
Big Trent. Heavy Trent
Doorway.
I boarded the shuttle bus to the terminal and waited for the thing to fill up, as BA and Heathrow love to pack people in like sardines in a can.
Eventually, the bus departed the hard stand. I had placed myself near an exit, so hopefully I could get a good place off the bus and jump on the immigration queue when I got upstairs.
Driving around.
The bus did its underground drive as I kept an eye on the clock. Eventually, it pulled up at the main terminal 5 building, with the doors opening reasonably quickly.
And yes, I bolted out of the bus, putting me as the third person on the escalator up to the Immigration and Transfer level.
I can’t argue with this.
Again, this was quiet – could I have lucked out at Immigration?
Heading into the main immigration hall, it seemed we were the only flight clearing at that moment in time. Thus, I bypassed the automatic immigration machines and headed straight for manual clearance (as I, of all people, know the chip in my passport has long been fried).
The agent cleared me back into the country after a few questions and confirmed the chip in the passport was long dead. That’s something I’ll have to get serviced next year.
Let’s keep going. Time is of the essence.
To baggagereclaim, whilst avoiding the most expensive ATMs in the UK.
With that done, it was time to head to baggage claim. Seeing that bags were arriving at Belt 9 (but not coming through), I walked a little further for a post-flight comfort break, knowing that I could be moving fast (and that a National Express toilet is probably the most unpleasant thing on the planet).
After feeling a little refreshed, I kept an eye on the AirTags, which moved slowly from the Hard stands at Terminal 5 to the main terminal.
Eventually, the BA App notified me that one of the bags had appeared.
One…
Shortly after, the other bag followed behind as it appeared on the baggage belt.
Two!
The whole lot was delivered in 33 minutes. From a hard stand at Heathrow, that’s more than passable.
With everything in hand, I made my way through HM Customs and Excise and into the public area.
Thataway.
Nothing to declare
The last chance to shop whilst you drop (at this point, it’s discounted – not tax free).
Into the public area.
Initially, I wanted a mug of coffee at Caffe Nero – mainly to burn a free drink voucher, but to feel human after that flight with zero sleep.
Sadly, it was shut. How rude.
Parked up.
Given that the time I had remaining was getting lower by the second, I decided to make do with the refilled bottle of water and head out to the bus station.
Life beyond the terminal.
Upon clearing the plaza, the National Express 210 to Birmingham was sitting waiting.
The waiting 210 to Birmingham
Whilst the timings were tight, I had made it.
The driver scanned my barcode, with all items accepted for the ride back to Birmingham Digbeth station. I also took the time to ask what the load back to the Midlands was like, with them responding around a half load.
That was excellent news – it would mean two seats to myself for the ride home, providing no one wanted to get close.
There wasn’t long to find out, with the coach making the journey around the Heathrow complex to the Central Bus Station.
Parking
Towards the access tunnel to Heathrow.
There were a number of passengers who boarded at the central bus station, but none chose to sit next to me for the ride homeward.
Considering I got no sleep on the inbound flight, I would take what I could get at this point for passenger comfort.
The coach took an interesting route – choosing to avoid the M25 completely. Rather, it travelled down the M4 to the junction for Maidenhead, then the A404 up to High Wycombe, then onwards to the Midlands from there.
I must have dozed off at some point, because the next thing I remember was the coach slowing for the M40/M42 Y junction.
The coach made it onto the M42 for a short while, then peeled off for Birmingham Airport.
Birmingham Airport.
Here, there were a few passengers who boarded for the short hop to Digbeth, as well as a driver change taking place near the train station.
With that complete, the new driver made the junior school mistake of heading back to the M42, the M6 and the Aston Expressway, rather than taking the A45, which is both shorter and quicker.
Did we get stuck in traffic on the M42? Of course.
On the M6.
The coach made its way onto the more “local” motorways and finally broke free of traffic as the coach started to close down on the Aston Expressway and the local routes to Digbeth Coach Station.
Villa Park.
Welcome to Digbeth. You’ll never leave.
With the coach entering the station and parking up, the engines were silenced, and everyone fought to get off first. I took my time this time, being one of the last people off, knowing that my luggage would take time to be pulled out from the hold.
I was in no mood to rush at this point.
With my baggage reassembled, I headed out to the exit and called an Uber for a ride home. At least I would get home without an argument from a Black Cab taxi driver who thinks going to North West Birmingham is at risk of catching the plague.
To the exit.
Life beyond transit.
Thankfully, I had a helpful driver who helped me load and unload the cab.
Arriving outside my block of flats, I dragged my luggage in and posed for this finishing photo.
Well. Not the end. My body saw the bed in my bedroom. The next thing I knew, it was 10 pm. I needed the supermarket.
Time enough to head to the supermarket and get some basic things, then arriving back and falling back asleep again.
I had to be in London in the morning.
Chinatown, London.
Finally
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