TWENTY-FIVE years ago, my wife and I drove the world-famous Big Sur coastal road from San Francisco to Los Angeles. It was the best holiday we ever took and I'd promised to revisit the journey with our two children when they were old enough.
Now both teenagers, I decided that time had arrived and so, bags packed, we set off for Heathrow, full of holiday anticipation.
I'd some trepidation following news reports of long delays at the airport but had convinced myself things must have returned to normal; I was wrong.
Upon arrival, we were hustled by airport staff into two long queues stretching out the front door. I hate queues.
No information was offered as we stood in the blistering heat. Instead, two very large security men made half-hearted attempts to stop line-jumpers. Invariably the culprits were from the premium queue, exhibiting their sense of entitlement. I just about held my temper as we finally reached the baggage drop.
We had four-and-a-half hours before our plane left and I comforted myself that I'd have time for a cup of tea in the departures lounge; I never got my tea.
At the top of the escalators to the security check, we were greeted by a scene of complete bedlam, pictured above. A sea of people was trapped in conga queue stretching into the distance.
We never reached its end as three-and-a-half hours later, we were pulled out by airport authorities to catch our flight.
Taking my seat on the plane I finally relaxed, relieved I'd seen the last of queues for a couple of weeks; again, I was wrong.
We spent the first four days in San Francisco and as we left the city in a rental car towards Los Angeles, I kept chanting in my head, 'they drive on the right, they drive on the right'.
Every second car I met on the road was an electric Tesla, though this changed the further south we drove from tree-hugging San Francisco.
The residents of Los Angeles seemed to prefer gas guzzlers wearing a Porsche, Ferrari or Lamborghini badge. Why anyone would spend £160k on a Lamborghini Huracán with a top speed of 201mph when the legal motorway limit in the US is only 65mph is beyond me.
It seemed even more nonsensical as they spent most of the time trapped in the semi-permanent tailbacks around that city. Ten miles north of Los Angeles we hit traffic, sitting in a river of gridlocked cars for over two hours as we travelled towards Disneyland in Anaheim.
The car finally parked, I was sure the queues were behind me. Yet again, I was mistaken. While Disneyland was a magical place for my children, for me it more like a prison camp, with guards dressed as Mickey and Minnie Mouse. I honestly believe if Hitler had won, he'd have retired to Disneyland.
With temperatures exceeding 40 degrees, I was yet again corralled into long queues. I worked out that one attraction involved an 80-minute wait for a four-minute ride, and no, it wasn't worth it.
Mr Disney did at least attempt to conceal his torturous queues, having built walls to hide their length. Coming round each corner, I prayed it would be the last, only to be disappointed by yet another room of sweaty humanity.
The long chicane of people behind and ahead reminded me of an abattoir where, instead of cattle, humans waited to be processed. After 60 minutes standing in the blistering heat, I'd have viewed a bolt in the head as a happy release.
I'd never been able to get my head around purgatory, my best guess being it was God's way of giving Protestants a second chance.
It may have been the heat, but, as I queued in Disneyland and miserably shuffled along, I finally understood: this must be what purgatory is like.
You're in a queue - for how long you don't know - waiting for something wonderful at the end. And just like Disneyland, instead of finding heaven, you turn the corner to enter yet another room of sinners working off their sins.
Returning home, I was certain I'd completed no small measure of penance during the trip and looked forward to the short return flight to Belfast from Heathrow.
You've guessed it: Aer Lingus decided to reschedule our flight three times, leaving us in one last queue lasting four hours.
I was beyond annoyance as it somehow seemed appropriate that we end as we'd begun... in a queue.
