A Fresh Start

As Steward Doug was mincing his way up the aisle towards me yesterday, dispensing hot food (and I use the word in its loosest possible definition) he was calling out the choice to all and sundry: “Chicken or Pastor. Chicken or Pastor. Chicken or Pastor.” It’s a moot point - he’d run out by the time he got to row 17 - but I really fancied the chicken … and after eating the pastor (sorry, pasta) I really wish I’d had the chicken!

I don’t know if I was the only one who giggled inwardly each time the North West Airlines crew referred to their employer as “NWA”, associating the acronym with the rappers rather than the airline. I was disappointed when the “NWA headset” supplied to allow the lucky, lucky passengers to watch “Miss Congeniality 2: Awful and Dreadful” didn’t overdub the dialogue à la Dr Dre, Ice Cube, etc. It would have improved the dross considerably.

I ate out at the local Maul last night (it’s just across the car park … i.e. half a mile from the hotel! …), disturing a flock of canadian geese en route, and went for the veggie option as per usual. It was truly vile, though, something I should have expected when the server queried my choice with clear surprise in her voice. I found myself wishing not for a better veggie meal but, rather, that I’d bought a steak sandwich instead.

While I was there, I kept an intriguingly-named outlet in view but it was, unfortunately, not visited by anyone. A shame, as I really wanted to see what a Hot Dog On A Stick looked like. I kid you not, folks. A Hot Dog On A Stick¹.

I’d taken a seat near a really fat bloke. While I find this is a handy tip to help appear more svelte, never before have I had such a choice of seats … Dearborn is clearly an affluent area.

The plan for today is to go to the Henry Ford and Greenfield Village. My ‘Guest Services Directory’ tell me that:

Settled in 1795, Dearborn was originally a stage coach stop on the Sauk Trail operating between Denver and Chicago. Today, the city is the research, engineering and manufacturing headquarters of the Ford Motor Company.

That explains why there aren’t any f*cking pavements around the hotel, then. By walking around I’ll probably get arrested for being one of them that dangerous peedestrians they’ll have been warned about at their mother’s knees. I’ve got the awful feeling that - as the village is on the other side of the multi-lane highway from the hotel, I’m going to have to take a cab to get there! Ridiculous.

I’d picked up a copy of a “Best of Dearborn 2005-2006″ leaflet from the concierge’s desk and opened it to the map. It’s dreadful! I can’t even tell where the centre of the city is as all it shows are some roads and a dozen ‘attractions’. Actually finding the hotel on the map wasn’t easy, partly because I’d asked Anni on reception to point it out.

“Weeeeeeell. We’re across the road from the Henry Ford (Community College) so we’d be somewhere around here”, she said, circling the community college rather than the likely location of the hotel. Gee, thanks Anni. I hope you have a nice day. There isn’t even a North indicated on the map. Grrrr. I’m a little irritated. Can you tell?

Ah - the sun’s finally decided to rise, so it’s time to hit the shower and then go find some breakfast. Wish me luck, folks.

¹ You need Flash for that site, but will wonder why if you choose to visit