Having checked in already last evening, we simply made our way over to the terminal for our flight, due to leave at 11.20am. It was all calm at the gate, where a huge A380 Airbus waited.

We were headed for Chicago, one of our favourite US cities.

Everything appeared to be under control. Announcements were made and boarding began without any of the usual rush. It was all remarkably civilised.

We found our seats and settled in with a glass of champagne, realising as we did that it’s almost three years since we last flew long haul. During that time, I had forgotten some of the little routines for such occasions; what bits and pieces to get out of my bag and what can be safely stowed away. As a result, I seemed to be up and down for a while, putting my bag up in the overhead locker before realising that I’d left something in there I needed - my flight socks, for example, and then my slippers.

When we finally did manage to settle, the Captain came on the loudspeaker to apologise for the delay, caused by some baggage handling issue. As a result, we left around an hour late, though he explained that unusually, there was no head wind today and that we ought to be able to make up some of that time on the journey across the Atlantic.

I was comfortable and found a couple of films to watch: Mrs Harris goes to Paris and then maybe Notting Hill. There were a couple of concerts on the radio I thought I might listen to later when I might feel sleepy. We’d see. As lunch was served then, I settled down with Mrs Harris (OK but I much preferred the play)

By the time all had been cleared away and I was well into Notting Hill. I realised that whilst I had been sitting with my glass of Sauvignon Blanc, relaxing for a couple of hours at least, the woman across the aisle had been hard at work, tapping away at her laptop - now there is wifi in the air, there really is no escape, is there? She appeared to work for most of the seven hour flight, taking only a short break for a vegan lunch and skipping tea. No scones with clotted cream for her, it seemed.

With less than an hour to go, we were flying over familiar territory; Sault Ste Marie and Mackinac Island, before heading down over Michigan and across the lake to Chicago where we landed just fifteen minutes behind schedule, around 2.45pm.

It would be a while before we went much further however. Our Global Entry was due for renewal and though we had completed 95% of the process so far, the one remaining part - the face to face interview - was to be completed on arrival here in Chicago. Before we could do that, we had to go through immigration and the queue was immense. It was almost as though the US Immigration authority created the experience especially to remind us of why we applied for Global Entry in the first place. Of course, we reached the front of the queue eventually, only to be told to join another queue - somewhat shorter - around the corner for our “interview”. My Hero and I were sixth and seventh in line.

Almost an hour later, the first two people in that queue were called. Yes, for an hour we stood and waited, wondering if anything was going to happen. People joined the end of the line all the time but oh my word, progress was glacial in speed. Finally, at around 4.15pm, we were called, we answered a few questions, confirmed our personal details and all was completed for another five years.

Of course, we still had not collected our luggage, however. When we found the carousel empty, we asked where any remaining luggage would be. The answer was, the British Airways desk out in the arrivals hall. First of all though, we needed to go through Customs…where surprise. surprise there was a queue. Thankfully, however, our two suitcases were indeed at the BA desk and we were able to pick them up and move swiftly on to the next challenge; find the rental cars.

That involved a train ride to another remote part of the airport, which is how, having landed at 2.45pm it was now 5pm and we hadn’t really got very far.

I waited in the parking lot whilst my Hero joined the queue…being assigned a white Nissan with quite a few bumps and grazes for my photograph, taken before we left.

At 6.20pm we arrived at our downtown hotel which was already decorated for the holidays with pink nutcracker figures here and there. I think the expression on my Hero’s face when he was told that our room was not ready gave the reception clerk a clear idea of his thoughts at that moment and she swiftly found an alternative!!

We always look forward to our Giordano’s pizza when we are in Chicago, but never has one tasted so good, nor have the two of us downed a pitcher of Blue Moon beer in quite such record time'!

We finished the day off in fine fashion too, having discovered a branch of our favourite Jeni’s Ice Cream from Columbus Ohio right there next to the hotel. Our reward for the last few hours, I think!